Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells (Whispering Pines #8)

Chapter 3

THREE

F alkor Grashen soared above the clouds, his massive wings cutting through the night air with practiced ease. The storm that had nearly claimed the woman’s life was already dissipating, its unnatural energy no match for a dragon’s ancient magic. But Falkor’s thoughts were far from the weather.

He couldn’t shake the image of those light brown eyes wide with fear and then wonder looking directly into his own. For a moment – just a moment – he had felt... seen . Truly seen in a way he hadn’t experienced in centuries. It was unsettling like an itch under his scales that he couldn’t quite reach.

Falkor shook his head, dislodging the thought along with a few stray snowflakes clinging to his dark scales. A low rumble, half growl and half sigh, escaped his throat. It was ridiculous. He was Falkor Grashen, last scion of an ancient dragon lineage. He didn’t get flustered over a chance encounter with a witch, no matter how intriguing her eyes might be.

And yet...

There had been something about her. A warmth, a spark of life that called to him even as he tried to maintain his distance. It was... troubling. Falkor had spent centuries carefully constructing walls around his heart, keeping the world – and its inevitable disappointments – at bay. But in that brief moment of connection, he had felt those walls tremble.

With a low growl, Falkor banked sharply, turning away from Whispering Pines and back to his isolated cabin deep in the woods. The wind whistled past his ears, carrying with it the scents of pine and snow and, faintly, the lingering trace of the witch’s perfume. He shook his head again, more forcefully this time, as if he could dislodge the memory through sheer willpower.

He had chosen this life of solitude for a reason. The last thing he needed was to get entangled in the affairs of witches and Christmas-obsessed towns. Emotions were messy, complicated things, and in Falkor’s experience, they only led to pain. Better to stay alone, to keep to the simple rhythms of mountain life and the timeless cycles of nature.

But as he flew, powerful wings carrying him effortlessly through the night sky, Falkor couldn’t quite suppress the nagging feeling that his carefully constructed isolation was about to be thoroughly upended. Change was coming to Whispering Pines, whether he liked it or not.

And it had light brown eyes flecked with gold.

Landing with a soft thud outside his cabin, Falkor shifted back into his human form. The transformation was smooth, practiced – scales melting into skin, wings receding, his massive draconic body shrinking and reshaping until he stood on two legs once more. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the different balance of his human shape.

The cabin loomed before him, dark and silent. Usually, the sight of his secluded home filled Falkor with a sense of peace. Tonight, however, it seemed... empty. Lacking in something he couldn’t name.

Growling softly at his own foolishness, Falkor strode inside. He needed to check in with Cedric, the town’s mayor and one of the few people Falkor might grudgingly call a friend. If there was a new arrival in town – especially one who had nearly plummeted off a cliff – Cedric would know about it.

Falkor hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over his phone. What did he care about the welfare of some random witch? It wasn’t his problem. He had done his good deed for the century by saving her life. That should be the end of it.

And yet...

With a sigh of defeat, Falkor snatched up the phone and dialed Cedric’s number. It rang twice before the mayor’s deep, jovial voice answered.

“Falkor! To what do I owe the pleasure? Don’t tell me you’ve decided to join our Christmas festival planning committee after all?”

Falkor snorted, a small puff of smoke escaping his nostrils. “You know my feelings on that particular holiday, Cedric. No, I’m calling about... something else.”

He paused, suddenly unsure how to broach the subject without revealing too much of his own interest. Cedric, damn him, remained silent, waiting patiently for Falkor to continue.

“There was a car on the mountain road tonight,” Falkor said finally, aiming for a tone of casual disinterest. “Nearly went over the edge in that freak storm. I was wondering if you’d heard anything about it. If the driver made it to town safely.”

“Ah,” Cedric said, and Falkor could hear the knowing smile in his voice. “You must be talking about our newest resident. Briar Rhee, I believe. She arrived safely, if a bit shaken. Mentioned something about a miraculous rescue, though she was rather vague on the details.”

Falkor felt a weight lift from his chest, one he hadn’t even realized was there. “I see,” he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “Well, that’s... good. That she’s safe, I mean.”

“Indeed,” Cedric agreed, far too cheerfully for Falkor’s liking. “She seems like a lovely young woman. I’m sure she’ll be a wonderful addition to our community. In fact, I believe she’s taking over management of that new children’s skincare shop. Enchanted Essences for Kids, I think it’s called.”

Falkor grunted noncommittally, even as his mind raced with this new information. A shop manager? For children’s products? It seemed so... ordinary. Mundane, even. How could someone so seemingly unremarkable have stirred such feelings in him?

“Well, if that’s all settled, I should go,” Falkor said abruptly. “Things to do, you know.”

Cedric’s chuckle was warm and knowing. “Of course, of course. But, Falkor? It wouldn’t hurt you to come into town once in a while. Who knows? You might even enjoy yourself.”

Falkor ended the call without dignifying that with a response. He tossed the phone onto a nearby table and ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body.

This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Getting worked up over a witch he had seen for all of thirty seconds. Next thing he knew, he’d be hanging Christmas lights and singing carols.

With a final, disgusted growl, Falkor stalked off to bed. Tomorrow, he decided, he would forget all about Briar Rhee and her golden-flecked eyes. He would go back to his solitary existence, unbothered by the comings and goings of Whispering Pines and its inhabitants.

But as he drifted off to sleep, his dreams were filled with the image of a red-haired witch smiling up at him with wonder and gratitude in her warm brown eyes.