Page 25 of Elven Kisses & Winter Wishes

I blink, trying to picture living inside an oversized flower. At least it would smell better than an onion. “That’s very kind, but—”

“You aren’t building houses or doing anything else for at least a week, love,” says Atlas firmly. His voice sounds like two rocks rubbing together.

“She can stay with me,” Frost interjects smoothly a beat after Atlas. “I have plenty of room in my poinsettia house.”

My eyes widen. “Your what now?”

His lips curl into a smile. “My home. It’s made from a poinsettia. A gift from Grizelda years ago. Would you like to see it?”

Curiosity gets the better of me. “I... Yes, actually. I would.”

Grizelda waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Ooh, moving in together already? My, how things progress quickly around here.” She titters. “Like the town evokes love and magic.” She winks at me.

My cheeks are hot. “I...”

“Don’t tease,” says Frost, his cool hand finding mine. The touch sends a shiver of magic up my arm. “Evony is still figuring out everything.”

Grizelda’s knowing smile widens. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you lovebirds. Go on, enjoy the rest of the celebration. Oh, Evony?” Her expression softens. “Welcome to Evershift Haven. Truly. I’m always available to build a house if—”

“After next week,” says Atlas.

The witch gives him an exasperated look and rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t argue.

I imagine he’s going to have his hands full trying to keep her from overdoing it again. I nod as a lump forms in my throat. “Thank you.”

Frost gently tugs my hand, leading me away from Grizelda and back into the heart of the festivities. The town square is alive with music and laughter. Fairies dart between floating lanterns, their wings leaving trails of sparkling dust. A group of elves harmonize near the Heart of Haven, their voices weaving a spell of joy and contentment over the crowd.

“This is incredible,” I whisper, taking it all in.

He squeezes my hand. “It gets better every year. Though I must say, this is the most exciting Yuletide I’ve experienced in centuries.”

I turn to him, curiosity piqued. “How old are you exactly?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Old enough to know better, but young enough not to care. Let’s just say, I’ve seen my fair share of Christmases.”

We weave through the crowd, stopping occasionally to sample magical treats or admire enchanted decorations. I try a mug of “Reindeer Radiance” hot chocolate that makes my nose glow red for several minutes. Bella tells me it’s a tweak on her previous recipe. It tastes more like raspberry than mint as an undertone, and I nod my approval.

By the time the glow fades, Frost introduces me to a group of ice sprites, who create intricate frost patterns on my skin with a touch of their fingers.

As the night wears on, I start getting tired. The adrenaline of the day’s adventures is finally wearing off, leaving me pleasantly exhausted.

Frost notices my fatigue. “Ready to call it a night?”

I nod, stifling a yawn. “I think so. It’s been quite a day.”

He smiles softly. “That it has. Let’s slip away. I’ll show you to my home.”

I should protest, since I have a room at the “Moonlit Inn,” but I’m dying to see his poinsettia house—and be alone again with him. We make our way to the edge of the square, biddinggoodnight to those we pass. As we leave the bustle of the celebration behind, a hush falls over us. The streets of Evershift Haven are quieter now, lit by softly glowing lanterns that float alongside the path.

“It’s not far,” he says, leading me down a winding lane. “Just behind the ice shop.” The houses we pass are a whimsical assortment of shapes and sizes. I see dwellings that resemble everything from acorns to miniature castles.

We round a corner, and I gasp. Before us stands a house unlike any I’ve ever seen. It’s shaped like an enormous poinsettia, its vibrant red petals forming walls and roof. The windows glow with warm light, and a wreath of holly adorns the door.

“Welcome to my home,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, taking in every detail.

He leads me up the path, waving his hand to open the door. As we step inside, I’m enveloped in warmth and the scent of cinnamon and pine, with the faintest hint of a floral note, probably from the poinsettia. The interior is cozy yet spacious, with high ceilings that mimic the curve of poinsettia petals. Furniture of polished wood and soft fabrics in shades of green and gold fill the space. The walls are petals but hard, like Candice’s onion house.

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