Page 29 of Daddy Christmas

"To show you the truth."

Chapter 7

Nicholas opened the door,and cold air hit my face like a slap. I shivered but followed him out. My boots crunched in the snow, the sound sharp in the quiet night. Then I saw it.

The sleigh was unreal—like something straight out of one of the Christmas books I used to devour as a kid. Carvings twisted along its sides, shapes that almost seemed alive when the glowing runes lit them up. The whole thing shimmered under the pale light, soft and otherworldly. And the reindeer . . . God, the reindeer. Their coats sparkled like they’d been dusted with stars, steam curling from their noses as they stood there, calm and waiting.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "What is this?" My voice barely made it past a whisper.

"Our ride," Nicholas said, stepping closer, his smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. That damn smile—it already felt warm enough to melt the frost clinging to me. He reached for my hand and pulled me forward gently, his touch steady, comforting. "Come on. It's better up close."

"Is this real life?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. My eyes stayed locked on the sleigh, too afraid that if I even blinked, it would disappear.

"It’s real life," he said, his voice low, like he was telling me something sacred. He turned to me, those green eyes—so impossibly bright—catching mine. "You trust me, don’t you?"

I hesitated. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. It’s just . . . this? This felt like stepping into a dream I didn’t know I’d been having.

"Yes," I said, barely louder than a breath. And then I let him lead me to the sleigh.

He helped me climb in, his hands firm around my waist, lifting me like I weighed nothing. The seat was wide and cushioned, impossibly soft beneath me. Before I could say anything, he grabbed a thick blanket—a deep red thing trimmed with gold—and tucked it snugly around my shoulders.

"Comfy?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"Yeah," I said, though my heart was pounding too hard for me to feel comfortable. My fingers gripped the edge of the blanket like it might keep me anchored.

"Good." He climbed in beside me, moving with a grace that shouldn’t have been possible for someone so tall. With a flick of his wrist, the reins snapped, and the sleigh jerked forward.

"Wait—" But the word died on my lips because suddenly we weren’t on the ground anymore.

We were flying.

The scene below blurred as the sleigh lifted higher and higher. Lights stretched out like scattered jewels against the dark, fading fast as the world fell away beneath us. Wind rushed past, sharp and cold against my cheeks, but I barely noticed. All I could do was hold onto the blanket, my knuckles white, and stare at the endless stretch of stars opening up above us.

"Okay," I said after a moment, my voice shaky but still mine. "This is insane."

"Insane or amazing?" Nicholas asked, leaning back like this was all perfectly normal.

"Both," I shot back. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I couldn’t help glancing his way. He looked so relaxed, his hand resting casually on the reins, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. Like he did this every day. Maybe he did.

"Relax," he said, his voice smooth and easy. "You’re safe with me."

"That’s not the point," I said, gripping the edge of the seat now instead of the blanket. "You—this—" I gestured wildly, trying to encompass the impossible thing I was sitting in. "People don’t fly sleighs, Nicholas!"

"Sure they do," he said, throwing me a wink. "They just don’t believe they can."

My breath hitched when the endless sprawl of highways and buildings gave way to something else entirely.

"Look," Nicholas said softly, his voice pulling my attention. He pointed out past the sleigh's edge, his gloved hand steady despite the rush of air around us.

I followed where he gestured, my heart still hammering from the impossible reality of what was happening. Beneath us, the world had transformed. Snow stretched out in every direction, broken only by dark ribbons of frozen lakes and rivers cutting through the white. It was like someone had reached down and painted over everything—clean, untouched, and glowing faintly under the stars.

"That’s insane," I murmured, half to myself.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" Nicholas leaned closer, his voice low and warm by my ear. "There are places out here that haven’t seen a single footprint. Not in centuries."

"Centuries?" That one word stuck in my head, spinning around with all the others I couldn’t quite make sense of.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tugged gently on the reins, guiding the sleigh in a smooth arc through the sky. The reindeer responded effortlessly, their hooves leaving faint trails of light behind them, like sparks.

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