Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells (Whispering Pines #8)

Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

T he snow crunched beneath their feet as Falkor walked Briar through the town square. Unbelievably, the dark clouds that had been rolling in had stopped as if they’d hit an invisible wall in the sky. What could possibly be holding the storm in check?

Falkor grabbed Briar’s hand, telling himself it was for practical reasons—the cobblestones were treacherous with ice—but he couldn’t explain away the warmth that spread through his chest every time she squeezed his fingers or smiled up at him.

Laughter and excited shouts drew his attention to the town center where a large section had been transformed into an impromptu ice skating rink. Children from the orphanage darted across the ice, their joy evident in their red cheeks and bright eyes. Magical lanterns floated overhead, casting warm golden light onto the scene.

“Oh!” Briar’s eyes lit up, reminding him of sunrise touching crystal. “We should join them!”

Falkor stiffened. “I don’t like skating.”

“Have you ever tried?” She turned to face him, snowflakes catching in her dark red hair like stars. The sight did something strange to his chest, making it tight and warm simultaneously.

“No, but?—”

“Then how do you know you won’t enjoy it?” Her smile held a challenge that stirred both his pride and something deeper, more primal. “Come on, dragon. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I flew off a cliff as a child,” he reminded her dryly. “I think that counts as adventure.”

She laughed, the sound making his magic stir beneath his skin. “This is a different kind of adventure.” She looked up at him through snowflake-dusted lashes, and he felt his resolve crumbling like ice in spring.

“Fine,” he growled, but he couldn’t quite hide his smile when she bounced excitedly.

Molly appeared with skates for them both, her knowing smile making Falkor suspicious. “Hot chocolate and cookies for all participants,” she announced cheerfully. “Ivy’s providing tea and scones, too, for the more sophisticated palate.”

“There’s nothing sophisticated about how much you love those scones,” Briar teased, sitting on a nearby bench to lace up her skates.

Falkor watched her fingers move deftly with the laces, finding himself fascinated by the simple grace of her movements. When she stood, wobbling slightly, he steadied her without thinking. His hands settled on her waist, and the contact sent a jolt through him even through layers of winter clothing.

“Ready?” she asked softly, looking up at him with those warm brown eyes that seemed to see right through his carefully constructed walls.

“No,” he admitted, but he followed her onto the ice anyway.

His first steps were uncertain, his natural grace compromised by the unfamiliar surface. But then Briar took both his hands, skating backward with surprising skill to guide him.

“Trust me,” she said, and the strange thing was—he did.

A small figure whizzed past them, and Falkor recognized Tommy from the orphanage. The boy had been shy around him before, but now he called out, “Mr. Falkor! Watch this!” before attempting a spin that ended with him sprawled dramatically on the ice, giggling.

“Excellent form,” Falkor said seriously, making the boy beam.

“Very artistic,” Briar agreed, her eyes dancing with happiness. “Though maybe a little less falling next time?”

More children joined them, showing off their skating skills or lack thereof. To Falkor’s surprise, he found himself enjoying their uninhibited joy. One little girl, Jadie, attached herself to his free hand, declaring she needed “dragon warmth” to skate properly.

“You’re good with them,” Briar observed softly as they took a break, sipping Molly’s hot chocolate while watching the children play.

“They’re...” He searched for the right words. “Uncomplicated. They haven’t learned to hide their hearts yet.”

She studied him over her cup, something soft in her expression that made his pulse quicken. “Neither have you, really. You just built walls around yours instead.”

Before he could respond to that dangerously accurate observation, Tommy called out, “Snowman contest! Everyone has to participate!”

“Oh, we’re definitely joining,” Briar declared, grabbing Falkor’s hand again. That warmth flooded through him at her touch, and he found himself following without protest.

They claimed a patch of fresh snow, and Briar immediately began outlining an ambitious plan. “If we’re making a snowman, we’re making a snow dragon,” she announced. “I hope you’re ready to use those sculptural skills, dragon man.”