16. Santa

Chapter 16

Santa

I snuggled on the bed, knotted with Dario, holding him close to me, wondering how the goddess had decided I was worthy of such an omega. Dario was everything someone could ask for in a mate. He worked hard, cared for others, and was hotter than the ovens we used for baking cookies. And still… somehow when he looked at me, he thought I was the catch. As if someone married to their job could ever be enough. I still didn’t know what we were going to do, how we were going to manage. The truth was, maybe we wouldn’t be able to.

But in this moment, I was filled with such happiness, I didn’t let the nagging worries settle in too deep. They would still be there when the post-orgasmic haze had faded.

“Are you cold?” I kissed his shoulder.

We were on top of the blankets instead of underneath, simply tumbling to our sides after we came. There was a mess to clean up and some settling in needed before sleep, but this was time for us to cherish being connected in the most intimate way.

“No, I’m perfect.” He snuggled in a tad closer, not that there had been any measurable room between us.

We held each other, neither of us speaking, simply enjoying the moment. And then, as with all things, it came to an end.

My knot deflated, and the two of us separated, and I gathered the blankets and covered him up. He snuggled into my chest, his hand resting over me.

“Please tell me you’re staying.” He looked up at me with a lazy smile donning his face.

“I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.” I kissed the top of his head, and my phone started to beep in the other room.

I ignored it. Max did not, wandering into the bedroom and turning in circles.

“Does Max need to go out again before bed?” I’d never had a dog, and I wasn’t quite sure how often they needed… well, anything, really.

“He’ll let us know. Right now he’s just finding a comfy place to sleep.” He had a bed in every room. I didn’t quite get his choice of location, but then again, I wasn’t going to be the one sleeping there, so it didn’t really matter.

My phone went off again, this time with a different sound, meaning a different elf. And yet again, I ignored it. I wasn’t ready to give this up, and since none of the notification noises had been Ryfon, they could wait.

“I won’t be mad if you go get it.” He pressed a kiss to my chest. “I can wait.”

“I only have one first time with my mate. I’m not going to ruin it by checking my messages.”

And then, before we could settle back in, yet another notification came in—a different sound— the one I dreaded. Up until now, it had been Sprinkles, someone from the kitchen phone, and someone from the delivery dock. None of that seemed like it could be that important, certainly not important enough to leave my mate. But now? Now I wasn’t so sure. This was Jingle Bells… aka Ryfon, and he wouldn’t be bothering me unless it was really important.

“Gumdrops,” I grumbled.

“You need to go.” His disappointment was evident in his voice, but he tried to cover it up with a small smile. He kissed my chest and then rolled off me. “Go, go see what’s wrong. I’ll be here when you come back.”

“I don’t want to leave. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ll go check.”

When I got to the other room and picked up the phone, each and every one of them had left voicemails. They never left voicemails. I glamoured on some clothes, not wanting to waste the time to find them in the pile of discarded garments, kissed my mate goodbye, and with a twitch of my nose and a blink, I was back at the North Pole.

I landed in the kitchen, assuming that’s where the problem had begun. The only thing there were cookies cooling on the racks. Nothing seemed amiss.

Off to the loading docks I went. Once again, everything seemed as it should. Finally, I went straight to Ryfon. He would know.

“What are you doing here, Santa?” He set down his tablet—the one he used now instead of his clipboard.

What was he asking me that? He was the one who called me. “I got four messages.”

“And did you listen to any of them?”

“I figured that after the fourth one came in, whatever it was needed me faster than it would take to listen to them all.”

Ryfon rolled his eyes. “Listen to mine.”

I took out my phone and tapped away.

Hey, Santa. Ignore them. I told them not to bother you. It’s already taken care of. Hope you’re having fun on your date.

“I should have listened to yours, at least.” I could’ve still been in bed with my mate.

“Yeah, you should’ve.” He reached for something on his desk, but then pulled his arm back, coming over to me instead. “Are you okay, Santa? You don’t look right.”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“Did things not go well on your date?”

“No, they went really well. It was perfect. But then I had to come here, and now... my body hurts. It doesn’t make sense. I’m not sick. I don’t get sick.” It was one of the benefits of being Santa.

“Start from the beginning and tell me about your date.” He indicated the big red armchair, and I sat down with him across from me.

I proceeded to tell him everything—everything up until the kiss under the mistletoe, anyway. Some things were private.

“And did you kiss him under the mistletoe?”

I nodded.

“Did it end there? What I mean is did you two…” Ryfon waggled his hand back and forth, as if we weren’t grown-ups and he couldn’t say the words.

“That’s private.”

“Or it could be important information.” His cheeks were the color of a beet. “You said he’s your mate and you’re his, and now… if you had the fun… I think you have this half-bond. Unless there’s a mark somewhere...”

“There’s no mark, but yes to ‘the fun.’” I wouldn’t share any details, but apparently, what we did together was need-to-know information.

“Then that’s it. You have a half-bond, and this feeling is going to just keep getting worse as time goes by.” Not the news I wanted.

“I can’t force him to choose this life. And if that means I’m in pain, I’ll just get used to it.”

“Santa, tell me… did you give him the choice to choose this life, or did you choose for him?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why do you see me?”

“Because I get paid the big bucks to be observant.”

“You get paid in cookies and sweets and a cushy lifestyle.”

“Exactly.” He stood up and twirled around. “Best job ever. But seriously, Santa. You need to decide. If it’s this bad for you, don’t you think maybe it might be this bad for your mate?”

“My mate...” The thought hadn’t crossed my mind at all. I figured it was me suffering because of not being a shifter or what have you. And now that I knew better, I understood what I needed to do.