Chapter 2

The storm outside howled like an angry beast, but inside the cabin, it was almost peaceful. Now that dinner was over and cleaned up, which Demetris had offered to help with but Holly had declined, she was back to her knitting. Her fingers worked rhythmically through the yarn, her knitting needles clicking in a steady rhythm that filled the quiet. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a soft golden glow over the room, and the scent of the homemade stew still lingered in the air.

Demetrius sat across from her, seemingly at ease in the armchair that Hexi usually favored—although the vampire had earned several cold, judgmental glares from the cat since taking his seat. Moonshadow, meanwhile, had remained comfortably on the couch, her shining silver fur quite a contrast with the colorful knitted throws.

Although a new Christmas movie was playing on the television now, Holly found herself distracted from her knitting by watching Demetrius. He was staring into the fire, his angular features softened by the flickering light. For a moment, she allowed herself to study him—his chiseled jaw, the way his dark hair fell in rakish waves over his forehead, and those piercing gray eyes that seemed to glow in the firelight.

Not bad for an undead brooder , she thought with a wry smile.

For a long time, neither of them said a thing. Holly knitted. And Demetrius … brooded.

“You know, I didn’t expect to have a vampire as a houseguest over Christmas,” Holly said, breaking the silence. “I figured it’d just be me, Hexi, and my knitting.”

“I don’t suppose you did.” Demetrius turned his gaze toward her, raising an eyebrow. “Just like I didn’t expect to be snowed in with a witch who knits cat sweaters.”

“Correction,” Holly said with a grin, holding up her half-finished creation. “I knit Hexi sweaters. I wouldn’t feel right calling myself a cat-sweater knitter until I’ve made one for Moonshadow, too.”

Demetrius chuckled softly, surprising Holly. It was a warm, rich sound—unexpectedly human for someone who generally looked like he was pondering the meaning of life eternal and whether it was worth continuing.

“I’d pay to see that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Moonie in a sweater. She’d never forgive me. Or you.”

Holly laughed, imagining the haughty silver creature wrapped in one of her colorful, fuzzy creations. “True. She’d probably curse you before clawing me to shreds.”

Demetrius smirked, his gaze drifting to the fire again. “So, what’s with the knitting anyway? I thought witches were more into potions and spells.” He wiggled his fingers. “Eye of newt, toe of bat. That sort of thing.”

“Toe of bat? Really?” Holly snorted as she pulled another length of yarn through her needles. “I do spells and all that, but knitting is … different. It’s calming. Plus, you’d be surprised at how many enchantments I can work into a piece.”

Demetrius raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Can you make a scarf that gives you the ability to fly?”

She grinned mischievously. “Well, I haven’t gotten quite that far. But I did knit a scarf that repels bad luck. Gave it to my parents’ neighbor last year. He swears he hasn’t had a single bad day since.”

Demetrius leaned forward slightly, intrigued. “Interesting. So, knitting is your magic specialty?”

“You could say that,” Holly said with a nod. “It’s practical magic, in a way. Weaving spells into something useful, like a blanket or a pair of mittens. It’s how I learned to focus my power. When I’m knitting, everything just … clicks. No pun intended.”

Demetrius went silent for a moment, watching her hands as she worked the needles effortlessly. After a few more seconds, he quietly said, “I get that. Having something to focus on. Keeps the mind from wandering too far.”

Holly glanced at him, sensing there was more to his words than he was saying. She knew a little about Demetrius’s family—how they’d come to Nocturne Falls years ago to build a family haven. She’d had a few brief interactions with him, seen him in passing, that sort of thing, but he wasn’t like the other vampires in town, who were more social and integrated into the quirky community. Demetrius always kept to himself when he was here, keeping a healthy distance from most of Nocturne Falls’ residents.

Most of them probably had no idea who he was. She only did because her family’s cabin was the last residence before his family’s lodge and years ago, his family had asked her family for permission to pave the road, the first half of which was on the Winters property.

The Vosses had offered to include the Winterses’ driveway, proposing to do it at no cost to her family. The Vosses had also needed the Winterses’ permission to access that brief stretch of the Winters land. Holly’s father had granted the necessary rights, creating a friendship between the two families.

As a further thank-you, Holly’s mother and grandmother had bespelled what was now known as the Winters-Voss barrier, done to protect both properties from all kinds of magic, although obviously not storms, as the one raging outside proved.

“So you came up here for peace and quiet. Is the rest of your family here?” Holly asked, curiosity getting the best of her. “You don’t seem like the ‘gathering around the Christmas tree’ type.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, though there was a distant look in his eyes. “No, I suppose I’m not. And it’s just me. My family is in the Alps. I just needed some space.”

Holly paused her knitting. There was hurt in his eyes, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. She understood. “Everyone needs space sometimes.”

Demetrius nodded, his eyes fixed once again on the fire. “It’s strange. I’ve lived for centuries, but there’s something about the holidays that makes time feel ... different. More important. Like I should be doing something more. Something meaningful.” He frowned. “But I never quite know what.”

Holly’s heart gave a little tug at the vulnerability in his voice. “I get that. Christmas can be overwhelming, even for us magical types. All the pressure to be happy, to be together, to make memories … Sometimes, it’s okay to just take a step back and let yourself feel whatever you need to feel.”

Demetrius said nothing, but his gaze flicked to her, and for a moment, the room felt warmer, as if the fire’s glow had reached her heart. There was something comforting about the way they were sharing space—two supernatural beings, each dealing with their own baggage, finding an unexpected connection in the middle of a blizzard.

“Do you ever miss it?” Holly asked softly. “The human things, I mean? Christmases before you were, that is, when you were … alive?”

“I’ve never been human or technically alive.”

“Right. I knew that.” She cringed as she realized she had known that but just forgotten it. Her parents had explained that to her and her brother about the Voss descendants years ago.

Even so, his face darkened for a moment, the trace of sadness in his expression unmistakable. He leaned back in the chair, his hands gripping the armrests, as if he needed to hold on to something. “There are things I miss. The world has changed so much. The traditions, the people, the attitudes … But every now and then, there’s something that reminds me of what things were like. The warmth. The laughter. That sense of … belonging.”

He suddenly shook his head. “Forget I said any of that. It’s sappy. And I do not do sentimental.”

“It’s not sappy. It’s honest,” Holly shot back, feeling a pang of empathy. She had only lived a fraction of the time he had, but she knew the ache of missing something that had once brought comfort. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling. And you belong here, too, you know. In Nocturne Falls. It might be kind of weird, yeah, but it’s as much your home as it is anyone else’s. You don’t have to spend Christmas on the outskirts, alone.”

Demetrius met her gaze, and for a second, his cool, indifferent demeanor cracked, revealing a hint of something deeper. Something just a little bit broken. “Maybe,” he said quietly. “I guess I’m still figuring out what home feels like.”

Holly smiled softly. “Well, you’re welcome here, at least until the snow clears. I mean, Hexi is pretty territorial, but Moonshadow seems fine with it.”

As if he’d been listening, Hexi shot Demetrius a withering glare from his spot on the hearth, while Moonshadow, still nestled regally in the blankets on the couch, purred contentedly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Demetrius said, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “I doubt Moonshadow has any interest in giving up her spot anyway. Looks like she’s exactly where she wants to be and has no plans to move.”

Holly chuckled, setting her knitting down in her lap. “Cats are just like that. They know what they want, and no one can tell them differently. They’re like furry little dictators.”

Demetrius’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he glanced at his cat. “She’d agree with you.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the sound of the movie, the crackling fire and the soft purring of the cats filling the cabin although not quite drowning out the occasional gust of wind outside. Holly felt an unexpected sense of contentment, knowing that despite the snowstorm, she wasn’t alone. There was something comforting about Demetrius’s presence—steady, quiet, and surprisingly warm for someone who seemed determined not to lose hold of his hard exterior.

As the evening wore on, the combination of the fire’s heat and the soft glow of the lights on the little Christmas tree lulled Holly into a peaceful sense of nostalgia. Not that she’d ever spent the holidays with a vampire before. She glanced at Demetrius, who seemed equally at ease, his usually sharp features relaxed.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Holly asked, sitting up straighter. “I make a pretty mean cup.” She wanted one, and it wouldn’t be polite not to at least ask him.

Demetrius’s eyebrow lifted. “Does it involve blood?”

“Okay, gross.” Holly laughed. “No. Just cocoa, marshmallows, and a little magic. Trust me, it’ll be the best thing you’ve tasted in centuries.” A bold statement to make, but she felt pretty sure she could back it up.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “All right. I’ll have a cup. Hard to resist when you sell it like that.”

Holly stood and padded into the kitchen, her wool socks muffling her footsteps on the wooden floor. She set to work making two mugs of hot chocolate, getting out a pot and doing it the old-fashioned way. She added milk and the high-quality cocoa she’d ordered online from a Swiss supplier, then stirred in a bit of cinnamon, vanilla, and sugar.

As the brew heated, a sweet aroma began to fill the air. For good measure, she wiggled her fingers over it, spelling it to be delicious. She couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all—making hot chocolate for a vampire just days from Christmas in the middle of a blizzard.

If someone had told her this was how she’d be spending the holidays, she would have knitted them a hat just to hide their foolishness.

With the cocoa done and steaming in the mugs, Holly brought them back to the living room and handed one to Demetrius. He eyed it suspiciously for a moment before taking a cautious sip. His eyes widened slightly, and Holly grinned.

“Good, right?”

Demetrius swallowed, nodding. “I must admit, better than I expected.”

“I told you,” Holly said with a laugh, taking a sip from her own mug. The rich, sweet taste warmed her from the inside out, and she curled up in her chair, savoring the cocoa and the moment.

They drank in comfortable silence, the raging snowstorm outside no longer feeling so ominous. Inside the cabin, the world was warm and safe, and Holly couldn’t help but feel as though something had shifted between her and Demetrius. It wasn’t just the snow that had brought them together—it was something deeper, something neither of them had anticipated.

Or maybe she’d watched too many Christmas movies.

As the night stretched on, Holly found herself slouched further into the chair, her eyelids growing heavy. Demetrius, too, seemed more relaxed, his usual guarded expression softened by the warmth of the fire and the quiet of the evening.

In that moment, she realized that maybe—just maybe—Christmas had brought her something she hadn’t known she needed. Not just a warm fire, a quiet evening, and an unexpected companion.

But the beginning of something truly magical.