Page 41 of Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells

His eyes softened in that way that still made her breath catch. “Thank you.”

“Oh! Wait—one more.” She produced a smaller package with a mischievous grin.

Falkor unwrapped it and burst out laughing at the coffee mug emblazoned with “Dragon by Day, Snuggler by Night.”

“You’re impossible,” he declared, pulling her into his arms.

“You love it.”

“I loveyou.” His expression turned serious as he set the mug aside. “Which brings me to my gift.”

Briar’s heart stuttered as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small velvet box. He slid from the couch to one knee before her, and suddenly breathing became a conscious effort.

“Briar Rhee,” he began, his voice rich with emotion, “you barged into my life—quite literally—and turned everything I thought I knew upside down. You showed me that love isn’t weakness, that joy doesn’t have to be earned, that home isn’t a place but a feeling.” He opened the box to reveal an antiqueemerald ring that caught the firelight like captured stars. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded emphatically. “Yes! Yes, of course, yes!”

The ring slipped perfectly onto her finger as if it had been waiting for her all along. “It belonged to my grandmother,” Falkor explained softly. “The only person in my family who understood that love could be a source of strength.”

“It’s perfect.” She threw her arms around his neck, and he lifted her easily, spinning them both as dragon-fire sparks danced through the air in celebration.

“I love the ring,” Briar said, admiring how the emerald caught the firelight. “But you do realize this doesn’t count as a Christmas gift, right?”

Falkor’s golden eyes widened. “I propose marriage and you’re telling me I still need to give you a present?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” She grinned, poking his chest. “The proposal is its own category. Christmas gifts are sacred.”

His laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “In that case...” He retrieved an envelope from beneath the tree. “Perhaps this will suffice?”

Briar opened it to find two tickets for the Polar Express, a magical train that rode through the winter realms on Christmas night. Her squeal of delight made him wince dramatically.

“A real Christmas train ride? With hot chocolate and caroling and—” She gasped. “Do we get to wear pajamas on the train too?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he growled, but his eyes sparkled. “Though I suppose one more set won’t kill me.”

EPILOGUE

The winter market buzzed with activity, made even more magical by the presence of Whispering Pines’ newest residents. Reed and Ellie approached, little Asher bundled in tiger-striped Christmas pajamas that matched his parents’ set. The baby’s amber eyes, so like his father’s, widened at the twinkling lights overhead.

“There’s our favorite dragon,” Ellie cooed to Asher, who reached for Falkor with chubby hands. “See? Even the baby approves of your festive attire.”

“Not you too,” Falkor grumbled, but he couldn’t hide his smile as Asher grabbed his finger with surprising strength. The baby’s tiger-striped footie pajamas included a hood with tiny ears that twitched when he giggled.

“If you think that’s cute,” Briar pointed across the square, “look at the Blackwoods.”

Celeste and Kade approached, their matching wolf-themed pajamas coordinating perfectly with baby Amara’s own tiny set. The infant sported a hood with wolf ears, while her father’s pajamas featured running wolves that actually seemed to move across the fabric—no doubt another bit of Celeste’s magical mischief.

“Don’t start,” Kade warned Falkor, adjusting Amara in his arms. “At least yours don’t howl when the baby cries.”

“An excellent feature,” Celeste declared proudly. “Makes it much easier to know when she needs attention, especially with wolf hearing.”

“It makes it impossible to pretend I’m sleeping through midnight feedings,” Kade corrected, but his besotted expression as he gazed at his daughter belied any real complaint.

Fia and Sayer completed the parade of families with little Vienna perched on her father’s shoulders. Their dragon-scale pajamas shimmered with actual magic, changing colors to match Vienna’s moods. Currently, they glowed a happy pink as she pointed excitedly at all the Christmas decorations.

“I see you’ve joined the matching pajama club,” Sayer noted to Falkor with a sympathetic grin. “They’re surprisingly comfortable, aren’t they?”

“Don’t encourage them,” Falkor muttered. “They’ll have us all in coordinating outfits for every holiday.”

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