21. Chapter 21 The Magic of Giving （Part 2）

Chapter 21: The Magic of Giving (Part 2)

J oy

As the party winds down, Grum finds me by the refreshment table. He’s shed the Santa costume, but the twinkle in his eye remains. He even winks at me for good measure.

“I have something for you.” He pulls out a small, wrapped package. The plaid paper is bunched and off-kilter, making it all the more special.

With trembling fingers, I unwrap it to reveal the beautiful bracelet from the bazaar, adorned with jade green stars. “Grum,” I breathe, “it’s beautiful. But how…?”

He grins, tusks gleaming. “I may have done a little shopping while you were taste-testing mellatons .”

Warmth fills my chest as he fastens it on my wrist. This orc has come so far—from Grinch to Santa, even requesting someone play “Jingle Bells” earlier. It’s more than I could have wished for.

“I love it. Thank you.” I reach up to kiss the star tattoo on his forehead. “The bracelet matches the star on your handsome face.”

A peculiar flush covers his cheeks. “So this is what orcs look like when they blush,” I tease.

“No! Absolutely not. I don’t blush. Ever.” His mock tantrum is adorable.

“Admit it, or I’ll call your friends over and ask–”

“Okay, okay. If you insist I’m blushing, I guess I am.”

I pepper his face with kisses, listing reasons: “For letting me be right… for being cute when you blush… for giving these kids an amazing time, for indulging my thirst for hot cocoa, for turning me onto the best mellatons in the zone, for—”

“Okay, Sleigh Belle. I get it.”

Emotions flit across his face before settling on that soft, affectionate look I’ve come to cherish.

“I have something for you too.” I hand him a carefully wrapped package.

Grum tears the paper with as much gusto as any of the children to reveal a leather-bound journal, its cover embossed with “From An’Wa to Earth: An Orc’s Journey.”

“I thought,” I explain softly, “you could write down your memories of home. Maybe share them someday. Help bridge our worlds.”

Grum traces the letters, eyes shining. “Joy, this is… perfect. Thank you.”

As we stand surrounded by twinkling lights and the party’s remnants, a sense of rightness washes over me. This is where I belong. With this community. With Grum.

He pulls me close, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Merry Christmas, my Tinsel Queen,” he rumbles.

I grab his arms tightly, floored by those two little letters. MY Tinsel Queen. He said I’m his. It means more than anything.

Snuggling into his embrace, I breathe in his comforting scent. “Merry Christmas, my Grinch.”

Bold approaches, his wolven features set in a serious expression. “Hey, lovebirds. Got some news for you.”

Grum raises an eyebrow. “Good or bad?”

Bold grins, showing impressive canines. “Depends on who you are. Good news for the Zone, bad news for Sykes, who is in custody. They’re building a case as we speak. This picture was flashed on every network and new station and paper in the city.”

He shows us a picture on his phone of three very unhappy goons with duct tape on their mouths and Christmas lights tying them together, blinking red, green, and white, reflecting off the ornaments and mounds of tinsel hanging all over them.

The headline reads: A gift from Santa for the Los Angeles police department.

I laugh excitedly. “That’s fantastic! Justice is being served.”

“Hold your reindeer,” Bold continues. “There’s more. Word is, they think Frost of Frost Enterprises was the kingpin behind it all. Sykes rolled on him.”

My jaw drops. “Frost? But he’s such a philanthropist! He even helped us get the toys back.”

Grum squeezes my shoulder. “Sometimes the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, Joy.”

“But… he seemed so genuine when I called to thank him for working his magic with the police,” I protest, struggling to process the nice man who threw the gala to benefit the Zone with the same man who syphoned funds into his own pocket.

Bold shrugs. “Hey, I’m just the messenger. But think about it—who better to run a massive embezzlement scheme than someone above suspicion?”

“He’s got a point,” Grum nods. “It’s the perfect cover.”

I sigh, leaning into Grum. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… disappointing.”

“Look on the bright side,” Grum says, eyes twinkling mischievously. “We’ve officially graduated from Santa’s little burglars to full-fledged Christmas crime-fighters.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Does this mean you’ll wear a superhero cape next year instead of a Santa suit?” Oh my God, just thinking of my musclebound male in spandex has me wanting to drag him back to his apartment so I can have my way with him.

“Don’t push your luck,” Grum growls playfully. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

Bold rolls his eyes. “Yeah, a reputation that’s getting softer by the minute. Next thing you know, you’ll be leading the Christmas caroling.”

“I’d pay good money to see that,” I giggle.

Grum huffs, but I know it’s all for show. “Keep it up, and I’ll stuff you both in stockings and hang you from the chimney.”

The party winds down slowly because no one wants to leave, a testament to how comfortable we are with each other, no matter how vast our differences. As I watch Grum chuckle at Bold’s teasing, my mind sprints to future Christmases… and all of them have a gorgeous green Grinch in them.

… or should I say former Grinch?