Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells (Whispering Pines #8)

Chapter 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

F alkor closed his eyes, forcing himself to face the memories he’d buried deep within his soul. Christmas mornings spent alone while other children celebrated. Morganna’s cold dismissal of his attempts to please her. The day she drove Evangelina away, shattering their family forever.

But this time, instead of feeding the anger these memories brought, he acknowledged the pain beneath. The loneliness. The desperate need for approval that had never come. The love that had been denied him.

“I am not defined by your cruelty,” he spoke, voice growing stronger with each word. “Your darkness is not mine to carry.” He opened his eyes, meeting his mother’s shocked gaze. “I choose light. I choose warmth. I choose love. I…forgive you, Mother.”

Something shifted inside him—a loosening of chains that had bound him for centuries. The dragon fire surrounding him changed completely, no longer fueled by rage but by something purer. Like the way Briar smiled at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Morganna’s spirit flickered violently, genuine fear crossing her ethereal features. “What are you doing?”

“Breaking free.”

Power surged through him, different from anything he’d experienced. His transformation came naturally, scales erupting across his skin as his form expanded. But where his dragon shape usually manifested in shades of darkness, now his scales shimmered with iridescent colors that caught and reflected the light like prisms.

Wings spread wide, Falkor launched himself skyward with Briar held securely in his claws. Her laughter rang out—bright and fearless—as they soared above the orphanage. His roar shook the very foundations of Whispering Pines, carrying not anger but liberation.

“Ready?” he rumbled.

Briar’s smile could have lit up the darkest night. “Together.”

She raised her hands from where she sat snuggled into him, her Christmas magic spiraling upward to join with his fire. The great tree in the orphanage courtyard blazed to life, its enchanted lights pulsing in rhythm with their combined power. Children pressed their faces against the windows, wonder replacing fear in their eyes.

The flames he breathed now shined with golden light, cutting through Morganna’s storm clouds like sunbeams through darkness. Where fire and Christmas magic merged, they created something entirely new—a power born of joy rather than suffering, of love rather than hate.

“This cannot be!” Morganna’s voice shattered like ice. Her form began to crack, fissures of light breaking through her frozen exterior. “I am your mother! You are my legacy!”

Falkor banked in the air, turning to face her. For the first time, he saw her clearly—not as the terrifying force of his childhood, but as a bitter spirit clinging to power she no longer possessed.

“You were my mother,” he acknowledged, compassion replacing his former hatred. “But you are not my future.”

Briar’s magic surged through him, their powers so completely entwined he could no longer tell where his ended and hers began. Together they released a final surge of purifying flame that struck Morganna’s spirit dead center.

She screamed—a sound of rage and disbelief that ended in sudden silence as her form shattered into countless ice crystals. They drifted harmlessly to the ground, catching the light like diamond dust before melting away completely.

The storm clouds dispersed, revealing a sky full of stars. Falkor descended gently, shifting back to human form as his feet touched the snow. Exhaustion hit him, but beneath it lay something new—a lightness he’d never known.

Briar slid from his claw during the transformation, coming to stand before him. “You did it,” she whispered, eyes shining with pride and something that made his heart race. “You’re free.”

“ We did it,” he corrected, drawing her closer until barely a breath separated them. “I couldn’t have faced her without you. You gave me something worth fighting for—worth changing for.”

She smiled, reaching up to touch his face. Her fingers traced the places where scales had been moments before. “How do you feel?”

“Free.” The word came easily, truth ringing in every letter. “For the first time in centuries, I feel truly free.” His arms tightened around her. “And terrified.”

“Of what?”

“Of how much I feel for you. Of how quickly you’ve become essential to me.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Of how much I want this—want you—want everything I never thought I deserved.”

“You deserve happiness, Falkor.” Briar’s voice carried absolute conviction. “You always have.” She smiled impishly. “And for the record? I want you too.”

Looking into her eyes, seeing the warmth and acceptance there, Falkor finally believed in happiness, in possibility, and in love. “I think I’ve found it all,” he murmured, closing the last distance between them.

Their kiss tasted of snowflakes and woodsmoke, of Christmas magic and dragon fire. Above them, snow began to fall—not Morganna’s bitter ice, but soft flakes that caught the starlight like diamonds. The Christmas tree glowed steadily, its magic restored and strengthened. From inside the orphanage came the sound of children’s laughter, no longer muffled by fear.

Falkor held Briar close, marveling at how natural it felt to let someone in. The chains of his past lay broken around them, melting away like winter snow at the first touch of spring. In their place bloomed something new—something that felt remarkably like the beginning of forever.

“Merry Christmas, my grumpy dragon,” Briar whispered against his lips.

For the first time in centuries, Falkor smiled—full and genuine and free. “Merry Christmas, my Christmas witch.”