Page 9 of Cherished By Her Guardian

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Winterlyn asked.

Annette turned to face the portal. “My grandfather is sick.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Would you rather not do this right now?”

“No,” Annette said. “I was going to wait until Christmas Day, but I can’t. There’s not enough time. It’s now or never.”

“Um, what? I could just ask another witch to take me if it’s not a good time for you.”

Winterlyn suddenly felt very strange. It was as if there was more going on with Annette than just her wanting to help a down on her luck shifter. Taking a step back, Winterlyn glanced through the portal at the dark sky. Snow was falling, highlighted by the Northern Lights. It looked magical.

Annette grabbed her upper arm and moved forward, towing Winterlyn along with her. “Come on, it’s important. Ithasto be now.”

As they moved through the portal, a male said, “Hey, you were supposed to wait for an escort.”

At the sound of the voice, Winterlyn’s fox chittered loudly in her head and her heart clenched.

“There you are,” Annette said. “Santa, I’ve got to speak with you right away. It’s an emergency.”

Winterlyn stood by the Entrance with her hand pressed to her heart.

What was going on?

The satellite phone on Declan’s hip buzzed as he made his way around the perimeter of Northernmost and had almost reached the Well of Magic.

It was cold as hell.

Or…wherever the coldest place on earth was.

Oh right. Here in Northernmost.

Jack Frost had really gone all out this solstice, blanketing the world in winter and seeming to focus on the North Pole. The snow had fallen fast and thick overnight, and the elves who were tasked with shoveling the paths and walkways were working hard to combat the fast snowfall.

“Declan,” he answered, then released the speaker button.

“We got a request for a witch to see Santa. She wants to come this morning. I have her coordinates,” Hunter, one of the polar bears, said. He was working in the security office, watching the security monitors.

“I’ll grab Bart, I just passed him on my rounds.”

“Just sent you and Bart the coordinates.”

“Thanks.”

He glanced at the screen of the satellite phone and saw the coordinates. He used the walkie to have Bart meet him at the Entrance. As he made his way to the Entrance, he wondered what was so important that a witch needed to see Santa at dawn a few days before Christmas. Santa was a warlock—the most powerful one in the world—but the most powerful witch was Mother Nature. If a witch had a problem and needed help, it would make sense for her to reach out to Mother Nature, not Santa.

“Hey, man,” he heard Bart call as he caught up to him.

“Hey.”

Heavy footsteps sounded behind him, and Declan glanced over his shoulders to see Santa. “Morning,” he said. “We could have brought the witch to you.”

“I haven’t even gone to bed yet,” he said with a yawn. “The Nice List takes the most time to go through. If the witch needs help, I’ll probably send her over to Mother Nature unless it’s something specifically I can help her with. Although I can’t imagine what that might be.”

The trio met up near the Entrance. “I’ll open the portal to the coordinates she gave us,” Bart said. “Hopefully she’s there and ready to go.”

Santa shivered. “Frost certainly pulled out all the stops up here. I think it’s the coldest it’s ever been on the solstice.”

“He must be pissed because you keep stopping him,” Declan said.

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