Page 15 of Merry Cris Moose

Cris froze mid-transformation, halfway between moose and man, as he spotted a figure standing at the edge of the field. His heart dropped. His eyes locked with hers as he finished his shift.

Keely was standing there, her eyes wide, her breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. Her expression was a mixture of shock and disbelief, her body frozen as if she couldn’t quite process what she had just seen. And then she crumpled to the ground.

Cris paced outside the infirmary, grateful to Holly for having brought him so clothes so he could get redressed. His breath coming in ragged bursts that had little to do with the cold air of the North Pole. His boots crunched against the snow-dusted walkway, the sound steady but doing nothing to calm the storm raging inside him. The tension gnawed at his gut—Keely had seen everything. She had witnessed him flying. And now, she was lying unconscious inside, the shock of it all too much for her.

He replayed the scene over and over in his mind, her wide eyes locked on him as she watched him shift from moose back into man, the disbelief and confusion that had clouded her face before she collapsed into the snow. Cris had rushed to her side, scooping her up in his arms, his heart pounding with fear and guilt. What had he done? He had tried to protect her until he thought she was ready, but now everything was out in the open. Maybe it was for the best.

He leaned against the stone wall, staring out at the snowy expanse of the North Pole. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. His duty to protect the secrecy and security of this magical place clashed violently with the undeniable pull he felt toward Keely. He had sworn to protect this place, to keep its secrets from the human world, and yet here he was, breaking that oath for a woman who had somehow captured his heart. Granted she was shifter, but still…

How could he let her into this world? How could he not?

The door to the infirmary creaked open, and Holly stepped out, her small frame bundled up in a thick, festive coat, her greeneyes shining with concern. “She’s awake,” Holly said gently. “You should go to her.”

Cris’s heart leapt at the words, but the weight of guilt and uncertainty kept his feet rooted to the ground. “How is she?”

Holly gave him a soft smile, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. “Confused, but... she seems okay. More than okay, really.”

Cris’s brow furrowed. He had expected Keely to be shaken, maybe even terrified. She was bright; she’d seen him fly. It wouldn’t take much for her to put the pieces together. He could well imagine how it must feel to see the impossible—a world she had perhaps dreamed about but had never seen.

“She’s not... scared?” he asked.

Holly shook her head, her smile widening slightly. “More like... intrigued. I think you’ll be surprised.”

With a deep breath, Cris nodded and forced himself to walk through the door, his heart hammering in his chest. He steeled himself for the conversation ahead, not knowing how he would explain everything to her, but he knew one thing for sure—he couldn’t lie to her anymore. Whatever questions she asked, he would answer.

The moment he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on Keely, sitting up in the bed. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her wide eyes were bright with a mix of curiosity and something else... something that looked an awful lot like excitement. When she saw him, her lips curved into a soft smile.

“Hey,” she said, her voice light but a little uncertain. “So... you can fly? Cool. I guess we need to talk.”

Cris swallowed hard and walked over to her, pulling up a chair beside the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to start. “Keely, I—” He stopped, his voice heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to see that. I wanted to explain it all to you... but not like this.”

She tilted her head, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “You mean, you weren’t going to tell me you can fly?”

Cris shrugged, unsure of how to proceed with everything he needed to say. “Yes. I can fly. It was a gift from…”

“Santa?” she supplied.

He grinned sheepishly. “Yes, a gift from Santa.” He ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding. “My guess is you’ve figured out that there’s real magic here. Santa, elves, the whole spirit of Christmas.”

She nodded. “Scrooge gets ghosts and a nightmare. I get a flying moose. I think I like mine better.”

He shook his head at her almost childlike wonder. He blinked, caught off guard by not only her acceptance, but also her enthusiasm. “So you believe?”

Keely let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief but clearly delighted. “I saw you fly with my own eyes. I saw a moose fly. You know your kind isn’t known for their grace of movement, but when you were up there, it was almost like you were dancing. It was really beautiful—powerful, but beautiful. As for believing the rest of it—Santa, elves—Iwantto believe it. I can’t tell you how much I’ve always wanted to believe, and now I can.”

Cris stared at her, completely stunned. He had been prepared for anger, for fear, for rejection, for anything but this. He had never imagined she would embrace it so easily, so openly. “You’re not... freaked out?”

Keely smiled, her eyes bright with excitement. “Are you kidding? I’m thrilled. I mean, it’s a lot to take in, but... I’ve always loved Christmas. I’ve always believed in the magic of it, even if I thought it was just a story. And now... I get to be part of it.”

Cris felt a wave of relief wash over him. Keely wasn’t going to run away. She wasn’t scared. She was here, with him, and shewas accepting everything about his world with an open heart and open arms.

But before he could respond, Keely’s brow furrowed as she looked at him more seriously. “So, what’s going on? I’ve heard people whispering about having to save or to protect Christmas. From what?”

Cris snorted. “Not just what, but who. We keep a sharp eye on people’s belief in the magic of Christmas. We’ve been monitoring it pretty closely and have figured out it is fading. It’s one of the reasons why I brought you here—your ideas, your toys, I think they have the potential to reignite children’s belief in Christmas. Tinker and everyone else agrees. But what I’ve discovered is that the magic isn’t just fading, someone has been actively trying to steal the remaining magic.”

Keely’s eyes widened. “Who?”

“Frost,” Cris said, his voice bitter.

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