Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells (Whispering Pines #8)

Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

B riar refused to be deterred by his clipped responses. “The town’s lovely this time of year. The orphanage especially—the children are so excited about Christmas. We’ve got this huge tree, and normally it’s enchanted with the most beautiful lights...” She trailed off, noting how his expression shifted subtly at the mention of the children.

“The storm’s affecting the tree?” A hint of interest colored his tone.

“Yes.” Briar seized the opening. “It’s getting worse by the day. The magic is draining away, and the children are scared. We’ve tried everything we can think of to counter it, but whatever’s causing this storm... it’s powerful. Dark.” She hesitated. “We were hoping someone with your abilities might be willing to help.”

The slight softening in his face vanished. “I’m not involved in town matters.”

“I understand you prefer your solitude,” Briar said gently, resisting the urge to reach across the table and touch his hand. “But the town could really use someone with your strength. Those children—they deserve a magical Christmas. One full of joy and wonder, not fear.” She paused, then added with a hopeful smile, “If you help us, I’d be happy to cook you a home-cooked meal as thanks.”

Falkor’s eyebrow rose again. “You’d cook for me?” Skepticism dripped from every word.

“Absolutely. It would be my pleasure.” She tried not to be distracted by the way his mouth quirked slightly at one corner.

“You don’t strike me as someone who spends much time cooking,” he remarked dryly.

Briar laughed, the sound bright in the austere space. “Well, I may not be the best chef, but I make up for it with enthusiasm. And hey, if it’s terrible, we can always order pizza.” She tilted her head. “Do dragons like pizza?”

The quirk of his mouth deepened fractionally. “Dragons eat whatever they want.”

“Was that almost a joke?” She grinned. “I knew you weren’t completely made of ice.”

His expression closed off immediately. “I’ll consider helping,” he said, voice cooling again. “But I can’t make any promises. You may leave now.”

Hope bloomed in Briar’s chest. She stood, gathering her coat. “That’s all I ask. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me.”

Falkor walked her to the door, his movements still graceful despite his obvious discomfort with the situation. Heat radiated from him—dragon fire warming his blood, she supposed. The wind howled outside, fiercer than before. “Be careful on your way back,” he said gruffly.

She turned to look at him one last time, struck again by the contradiction of strength and solitude he presented. Up close, she could see flecks of amber in those golden eyes, like flames dancing behind glass. “I will. And don’t forget—I owe you a meal.”

The forest path seemed less foreboding on her return journey, though the cold remained bitter. Briar couldn’t shake the feeling that there was far more to Falkor Grashen than his gruff exterior suggested. The pain behind his eyes spoke of old wounds, the kind that time alone couldn’t heal.

Those eyes. She was certain now—they were the same ones she’d seen during her near-accident, though she kept that revelation to herself. Whatever had happened that night, whatever had brought her to this moment, she sensed it was only the beginning.

Her attraction to him was unexpected and, honestly, probably ill-advised. But there was something about him that called to her on a level deeper than physical appreciation. She recognized the loneliness in him, even if he claimed to prefer it. No one truly wanted to be alone—they just got used to it and built walls to protect themselves from further hurt.

The orphanage’s weakened lights came into view through the swirling snow. Briar straightened her shoulders, determination settling over her like a warm cloak. She would find a way to help this town and these children. And maybe, just maybe, she could help a lonely dragon remember the magic of Christmas along the way.

As if in response to her thoughts, the wind picked up, driving ice-laden branches against each other with sounds like breaking bones. The storm was growing stronger. But now, at least, they had hope—if she could just convince one stubborn, unfairly attractive dragon to embrace it.

Briar hurried through the deepening snow, already planning her next visit to the cabin in the woods. Falkor Grashen might think he preferred his solitude, but she suspected what he really needed was someone brave enough to break through those walls he’d built. Someone who understood that sometimes the greatest gift you could give another person was simply refusing to let them face their demons alone.

She smiled, remembering that brief flash of warmth in his golden eyes. Yes, there was definitely more to Falkor Grashen than met the eye. And Briar Rhee had never been one to back down from a challenge—especially not when it came wrapped in dragon scales and winter shadows. Though she had to admit, the fact that those scales came with a face that belonged on the cover of a romance novel didn’t hurt.

“Get it together, Briar,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head at her wandering thoughts. “He’s not some project for you to fix. You need his help to save Christmas, that’s all.”

But even as she tried to convince herself, she knew it wasn’t that simple. The way he’d looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention—quick glances filled with curiosity and something else, something that had made her skin tingle with awareness—suggested he wasn’t as indifferent as he pretended to be.

A gust of wind nearly knocked her off her feet, and she stumbled in the deep snow. The storm was definitely getting worse. Ice crystals formed on her eyelashes, and her warming spell flickered weakly. She needed to focus on the immediate problem: convincing Falkor to help them fight whatever dark force was trying to destroy Christmas in Whispering Pines.

The charm bracelet on her wrist jingled softly as she walked, each tiny charm representing a moment of joy in her life. She touched the newest one—a small silver star that had appeared the day she’d arrived in town. The magic in it pulsed warmly against her fingers, reminding her that she was exactly where she needed to be.

“One step at a time,” she reminded herself, thinking of the challenge ahead. First, she’d have to figure out how to cook something edible enough to tempt a dragon out of his self-imposed exile. Then she’d worry about why her heart skipped a beat every time those golden eyes met hers.

She laughed softly, her breath forming crystals in the frigid air. Around her, the forest creaked and groaned under its burden of ice, but her steps remained steady. She had a feeling her life in Whispering Pines was about to become much more interesting—assuming she could survive her attempt at cooking for a dragon.

The orphanage’s inside Christmas tree came into view through a window, its magic dimmer than ever but still fighting the darkness. Like the tree, she wouldn’t give up. Something told her that saving Christmas might just be the beginning of a much bigger adventure—one that involved melting a dragon’s frozen heart.