Page 11 of Naughty Elf: Aster

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Page 11 of Naughty Elf: Aster

“That sounds lovely. Thank you. And maybe you can tell me more about your life? I… Do you have a mate already?”

I heated apple cider with cinnamon sticks floating in it, over the stovetop. I pulled out cookies and watched as he put one in his mouth. They probably weren’t good enough for a baker from the North Pole, but my son and I liked them well enough.

“These cookies are fantastic, Wolfe. You would give some of the apprentices a run for their bells.”

“Bells?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. It’s a bartering system. We don’t use money like humans. We use bells.”

“Here you go,” I said, pushing a cup of steaming cider toward him. “Tell me more about the North Pole.”

Chapter Eight

Aster

One minute, I was on the shelf. The next minute, I was standing there on two legs, talking to Wolfe—Wolfe, who I now understand my connection to. He wasn’t just a random shifter, and my place here wasn’t based on accident or serendipity. No, this was where I was meant to be. He was my mate. I wasn’t even sure how I knew that, but I did and there was not a single glitter of doubt in me.

Sure, he was hot, and all I could think about was tasting his lips, seeing if they were sticky from the cider, if he was a hard kisser or a soft kisser—and what it would feel like to have them pressed against my shoulder where he would one day mark me. But it was more than that. He was my mate, and that meant I was his. I still didn’t know if he wanted me. Losing a mate was a challenge unlike any I could understand, but Fate thought I was who he needed, and I was holding onto that.

What that meant looking forward, I had no idea, but he must have sensed it too. Because instead of kicking me out, or calling the police, or wolfing out and bleeding me dry to protect his young, he was feeding me cider and cookies. Delicious, delicious cookies.

I wouldn’t say they were quite as good as mine, but the thing with cookies was that they all had their own personalities, and they all had their place. And right now, these cookies’ place was inside my belly. They were the perfect blend of sweet and crunch with a tad of chewy.Nom. Nom. Nom.

I’d planned to ask about the kitten, and somehow it turned into me asking him about his late mate. I’d already told him I didn’t have one, and somehow that morphed into a discussion that probably should’ve waited until morning.

David had been his name, and everything I learned about him told me I’d have liked him, that we’d have been friends. Even if I hadn’t heard Wolfe talk about the man, it was obvious he’d been mated, his mark visible on his shoulder.

As I listened to him talk about David, how much he loved him, and a little bit more about his passing, it was a difficult and sweet conversation, and one I wish he never had to have. The heartbreak of losing one’s mate—it was, it was much.

I wanted to be honest with him about everything, about how I was feeling, about my job, about my draw to him. But I didn’t want to throw too much at him too soon. So when he asked about the North Pole, I talked about my baking kitchen, my apartment, my favorite activities. I talked about things I liked to eat, places I liked to go, and Ernie. And mostly, we talked about cookies.

I scooped down and picked up the kitten who had been glued to my foot the entire time. “Is it okay if I hold them here, or should I move to the other room?”

We were sitting close to the table, and some people got weird about pets near the table.

“Go ahead. Snowball’s too cute to disappoint.”

“Snowball? I should have known his name would be snowball. Noel really loves the snow.”

“You heard all of that?” He’d caught my slip. I hadn’t been actively trying not to let him know how much I’d heard, but also, I wasn’t about to be bragging about it either.

“Yeah, it was—being a figurine was weird and complicated, and I’m not sure how this is the best way to describe it, but it was like I was in the statue but not really part of the statue. I could see out the eyes, but I couldn’t move anything.”

“That sounds like when I first got my wolf.” His words surprised me.

“How so?”

“Well, when you’re a kid, and your wolf takes over, they have complete control. And you want to have control, but you can’t. It’s like you’re a visitor in your own body because they’ve been trapped inside for so long.”

He worded it so much better than I had. That was exactly how it felt.

“Over the first year or so, you kind of work that out between the two of you, and now I’m in control of my beast, of course. It’s like we’re friends, which—that’s a whole other thing.”

“I get it. That had to be hard.” Being a teen was difficult enough. I was a grown sugar plum elf, and I struggled.

“You said time didn’t really make sense?”

“No, none.” I wasn’t altogether sure time was working normally yet.


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