Sleigh Bells and Dragon Spells (Whispering Pines #8)

Chapter 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

D awn broke over Whispering Pines, painting the sky in strokes of rose gold. Briar Rhee stepped outside the orphanage, inhaling deeply as the first rays of sunlight pierced through dissipating storm clouds. The fierce winds had calmed to gentle whispers, leaving behind a pristine blanket of snow that sparkled like scattered diamonds.

The Christmas tree stood tall and proud in the town square, its magical lights pulsing with renewed vigor. Each ornament caught the morning light, sending rainbow reflections dancing across the fresh snow. The air carried the crisp scent of pine mingled with woodsmoke from nearby chimneys.

“Miss Rhee! Miss Rhee!” Katie’s excited voice rang out from the orphanage doorway. The little girl bounced on her toes, pointing at the sky. “The scary clouds are gone!”

“They sure are, sweetheart.” Briar smiled as other children emerged to join Katie, their faces bright with wonder.

Mrs. Thompson appeared behind them, her weathered face serene. “You did it,” she whispered, squeezing Briar’s shoulder.

“We all did it—together.” Briar watched the children venture out to play in the fresh snow, their laughter rising like music on the morning air.

But something tugged at her heart. Someone missing. Falkor. She hadn’t seen him since the final moments of battle when Morganna’s spirit had shattered into stardust.

“Have you seen Falkor?” she asked Molly, who’d emerged from Bewitched Bakery carrying a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls.

Her friend’s eyes twinkled. “Last I saw, he was heading up toward Sunset Hill.”

Briar’s boots crunched through fresh snow as she climbed the winding path to the hilltop overlooking town. Her heart quickened when she spotted him—a tall figure silhouetted against the morning sky. Falkor stood motionless, gazing out over Whispering Pines, his posture more relaxed than she’d ever seen it.

“Enjoying the view?” she called softly.

He turned, and her breath caught. The usual shadows in his golden eyes had lifted, replaced by something lighter, almost peaceful. “It’s more beautiful than I realized,” he replied, his voice rich with emotion.

She moved to stand beside him, close enough to share warmth but not quite touching. Below them, the town sparkled like a jewel box, its cobblestone streets and snow-capped buildings picture-perfect.

“You seem different,” she observed.

“I am different.” He paused, considering his words. “For the first time in centuries, I feel... uninhibited. The weight of the past, my mother’s influence—it doesn’t haunt me anymore.” He turned to face her fully. “Because of you, Briar.”

Her heart skipped. “Me?”

“You showed me there’s more to life than isolation.” His expression softened. “Before you crashed into my world—quite literally—I’d forgotten what it meant to care. To connect. To hope.” He reached for her hands, enveloping them in his warmth. “I was lost, and you found me. Your kindness, your unwavering belief in me, your ridiculous Christmas enthusiasm—” A smile tugged at his lips. “It changed everything.”

Briar’s eyes stung with happy tears. “Even the terrible cookies?”

“Especially the terrible cookies.” His thumbs traced circles on her palms. “I love you, Briar Rhee. Not because you saved me, but because you showed me I deserved to be saved.”

Joy bubbled up inside her like champagne. “I love you too, you stubborn dragon.” She squeezed his hands. “I’ve loved you since I glimpsed the goodness in you hiding behind all those walls. Even when you growled at my decorations.”

“I did not growl.”

“You absolutely growled. It sounded exactly like—” Her words cut off as he pulled her close, one hand rising to cup her cheek. The morning sun caught in his eyes, turning them to molten gold.

Their kiss tasted of snowflakes and possibility. Of endings and beginnings. Of promises kept and adventures yet to come. Somewhere in the distance, church bells began to ring, their joyful pealing echoing across the valley.

When they finally parted, Briar noticed a new charm had appeared on her bracelet—a tiny golden dragon wrapped around a Christmas star.

They descended the hill hand in hand, returning to find the town square filling with people. Children built snowmen while their parents chatted in clusters. Delicious aromas wafted from the cafés and bakeries.

“Well, well.” Celeste’s amused voice carried across the square. “Looks like someone finally found his Christmas spirit.” She elbowed her husband, Kade, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“About time,” Daisy chimed in, her pink hair especially bright against the white backdrop. “We were taking bets on how long it would take.”

Falkor’s grip on Briar’s hand tightened slightly, but she noticed the tips of his ears had reddened. “I suppose I deserved that,” he murmured.

The day unfurled like a gift being unwrapped. They helped string fresh garlands across the square, Falkor’s height proving particularly useful for reaching high places. At Bewitched Bakery, they sampled Molly’s latest creation—gingerbread cookies spelled to roar like tiny dragons when bitten.

Children dragged Falkor into a snowball fight, and Briar’s heart melted watching him carefully calibrate his throws to match their abilities. His deep laugh rang out more freely with each passing hour.

As afternoon softened toward evening, they found themselves beneath the orphanage’s outdoor Christmas tree. Its magical lights cast ever-changing patterns on the snow around them.

“I can’t believe how much has changed,” Briar mused, leaning against him. “When I first arrived, I hoped to find a place to belong. Now I have a home, friends who’ve become family, and you.” She looked up at him. “Especially you.”

Falkor’s arms tightened around her. “I never imagined I could have this,” he admitted. “For centuries, I thought power meant having control, staying distant. But real power is in connection. In community. In love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’ve given me so much more than freedom from my past. You’ve given me a future worth living.”

“We’ll make it wonderful,” she promised. “Create new traditions, blend old ones. Dragon-themed stockings, maybe?”

“As long as you don’t try to put antlers on my dragon.”

“No promises.”

Fresh snow began to fall, fat flakes drifting lazily through the glow of Christmas lights. Somewhere nearby, carolers sang, their voices rising sweet and clear in the evening air. Briar snuggled closer to Falkor, savoring his warmth.

They’d faced darkness together and emerged stronger. Found love in unexpected places. Built bridges between past and future, between solitude and connection, between ice and fire.

And as they stood wrapped in each other’s arms, watching their town sparkle beneath gentle snow, Briar knew this was only the beginning of their story.