Page 27 of Santa Daddy, I'm Not the One

9

NILS

The chilly morning air bit into my cheeks as I urged the reindeer higher and swept my gaze over the vast, snow-covered expanse below. The blizzard had calmed, but the once pristine snow was now marred with the chaos of last night’s events, yet it offered no trace of Landon. Desperation clawed at my chest, each passing second stretching into an eternity of worry. How had things spiraled so out of control? By the time I’d calmed the town and procured a new sleigh, he’d had a good start on me. Throughout the night, we’d been searching in the air and on the ground.

An hour ago, we’d discovered the remnants of the sleigh he’d taken. The reindeer had been fine, although one had sustaineda minor injury. From the frost I found on the sleigh, he must’ve been struck down by Frostheart.

If Frostheart hurt Landon…

I clicked my tongue, spurring the reindeer on. They pushed forward through the biting cold, their breaths small white puffs in the crisp air, their sides heaving with exertion. We’d been searching for hours, calling Landon’s name, hoping against hope for a response, a sign, anything. But the wilderness offered no answers, just the haunting echo of our calls.

I glanced at Eirik beside me, his face pinched with concern. “We can’t stop now,” I insisted, my voice hoarse from shouting. “He’s out there, alone and scared. We need to find him.”

Eirik placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Santa, the reindeer are tired. They’ve been running all night. We need to let them rest, regroup at the workshop, and come up with a better plan. We won’t help Landon by driving ourselves to exhaustion.”

He was right, but the thought of leaving Landon out there, possibly hurt or worse, filled me with an unbearable sense of dread. The light of dawn did little to warm the chill that had settled deep in my bones, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

With a heavy heart, I nodded, signaling the reindeer to return to the workshop. The journey back was silent, each of us lost in our thoughts, the weight of the situation like a heavy cloak around our shoulders. The workshop, usually a place of laughter, was now dark and quiet, like a somber reminder of the joy that had been snatched away so cruelly.

As we landed, the other elves rushed to meet us, their faces etched with worry. Eirik and I debriefed the search team. The words were mechanical, my mind elsewhere, replaying the last moments I’d seen Landon, the look of betrayal and hurt in his eyes as he fled into the night.

“Santa, the townspeople sent the elders,” an elf said. “They’re waiting to talk to you in the workshop.”

“Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The town wasn’t in imminent danger. Landon was. My focus had to be on him. “Finding Landon is more urgent.”

“But, Santa—”

“Go, Dolbie.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the elf left, I led the reindeer into the stable. The dimly lit interior was strewn with straw, the familiar warmth a contrast to the piercing chill outside. I moved farther in, the soft murmurings of the reindeer and the gentle rustle of hay underfoot grounding me.

What was that? A prone figure was stretched out on a dark cloth. Heart in my throat, I slowly approached.

Landon. It was Landon.

I dropped to my knees, closing my eyes and breathing deeply as gratitude washed over me. He was alive.

“Landon?” Gently I shook his shoulders, whispering to him and urging him back to consciousness. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a glimpse of confusion and fatigue. “Nils?” he murmured, his voice weak and laden with disorientation.

“Yes, it’s me, baby. How did you get here? I’ve been searching for you all night. Can you remember anything?” I asked. How can he be here?

He tried to sit up, wincing slightly. “I don’t know. I was running, and then… everything went blank. I was so cold, and then I woke up here.”

He dropped his gaze to the cloak he was lying on. A shiver ran down my spine. I recognized the deep, inky black fabric that seemed to swallow the light around it. Frostheart. He was lying on Frostheart’s cloak. That realisation brought a torrent of questions and a deep sense of alarm.

“This cloak, Landon. How did you come by it?” My voice was strained, the words heavy with implication.

He shook his head, a look of confusion and then dawning fear crossing his face. “I don’t know. Should I?” His innocence seemed genuine, but the cloak was an undeniable fact I couldn’t ignore.

“We’ll talk about it later.” I watched his reaction closely, but his features remained puzzled. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up. How does a bath sound?”

“Good.”

I lifted Landon in my arms, and he wrapped his arms around my neck, his hold on me weak. Had Frostheart done something to him? He felt so cold. Did he always feel like that?

My instincts told me he was telling the truth, that he was as much a victim in this as anyone. But doubts gnawed at the edges of my mind, fueled by the cloak’s sinister presence. What was Frostheart up to, and did Landon’s appearance have anything to do with him?

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