Page 13 of Naughty Elf: Aster

So, on the floor near him it was. Serving the dual purpose of guardian to Noel and satisfying my wolf.

We’d spoken for quite a while before settling in for the night, and although his breathing was slow and even—soothing—my mind would not slow down enough to sleep. I plumped the pillow under my head and kicked off the blanket over my legs. The fire was low but still put out a ton of heat, and even after banking it for the night, the cabin stayed comfortable. This close to the hearth, in front of the sofa where Noel and I often sat and talked on cold winter’s nights, I was more than toasty.

Pushing up to lean against the couch, I turned my head and watched Aster resting on his back, lips slightly parted. He was still covered with the handmade quilt we’d been gifted by David’s aunt at our mating. It was still one of my most precious possessions, and I supposed I should have been bothered by loaning it to someone I was feeling such attraction to. But, although I searched for any negative feelings or concerns, I found not a one. Only pleasure at providing comfort to our guest after what had to be a traumatic experience. Settling in, I watched the glowing coals and the occasional flicker of flame. A few hours before, I thought our life was settled. Maybe I wasn’t happy, as I’d been when my mate lived, but I had found contentment.

Aster was intense, his energy strong and clear, and it had been a long time since I’d been this close to an attractive alpha. I couldn’t fully understand what he’d experienced. But I believed him. The most far-fetched part of the whole thing was his turning from a statue into a person, but I knew that happened, so why not the rest.

The elf rolled over onto his side, the quilt falling to his waist, and without thinking, I reached up to tuck it around hisshoulders again, as I would have for Noel. Was he cold? Probably not, but I didn’t want him to be.

Suppressing a chuckle, I realized I was worried about someone from the North Pole catching a chill down here in the Lower Forty-eight. He probably wore flip-flops in the snow. But didn’t elves wear those pointy-toed shoes with the bells every day? Probably a stereotype. He did have pointy ears though.

Standing, I walked to the window and looked out at the wintery landscape. A doe bent her neck to nibble something in the snow and an owl hooted in the distance. Living here in the cabin, nature was all around us. Noel loved it, and so did I. It had a calming effect seeing the animals go about their lives and the scene right outside change with the seasons.

Beautiful. And cold. And not all sweet and pretty, which I knew well as a predator. As soon as Noel shifted, his wolf would want to hunt, and mine would teach him his ways. Maybe not what other people might think of in terms of my adorable child, but we were more than that. We were both human and beast.

And the elf? From what he said, he’d been cursed or something similar by breaking a North Pole rule. So he probably didn’t have two forms usually. Probably lucky. It couldn’t be fun to have to stand on a dusty shelf all day without moving. What drew my son to the statue? He loved all things Christmas, but a figurine was not really a typical item to catch his interest. Had he known somehow that there was more to the item than just what presented?

At his age, he might have a hard time expressing something like that, but I would like to know.

The moon hung low in the sky, and morning would be here soon, so I returned to my makeshift bed and closed my eyes, trying to shut down all the thoughts still racing inside my mind. I was so drawn to the elf, but I felt as if there was more to the storythan he revealed. Was that what had me feeling so protective? Or was it just normal me?

At some point, I fell asleep because the first rays of wintry sun touched my eyelids, without a trace of warmth. Summer felt a million years away. But that was all right. Noel and I would have fun crunching through snow while it lasted as well. He was a great companion.

And it was time to get up and see what today brought. Pushing to my feet, I looked down to see Aster’s eyes open. “Good morning,” I said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I have for the past several days, for sure.”

Now there was a question. “Do statues sleep?”

“I’m not even sure. It feels a little like a dream now. But then…here I am. Not back at the Pole baking cookies. Did you want me to leave?”

“Actually, I am going to wake Noel and make breakfast. He’s going to be surprised to meet you.”

“Maybe.” Aster stood up and folded the quilt, stroking its soft, worn cotton before laying it over the back of the sofa with care. “Children often surprise us, don’t they?”

I chuckled. “Noel does, for sure.”

“Why don’t I start breakfast? Cooking or at least baking is kind of my jam.”

I gave a little bow. “Excellent. I’ll go get my son and be back as soon as he’s on the move. Want me to come help you find things first?”

“No.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “I’m usually right at home in the kitchen.”

Chapter Ten

Aster

I was nervous. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. Meeting Wolfe had gone so well, but Noel—that was a different story. I put on a good face because kids really did surprise me. They sometimes understood things adults did not.

All of that aside, at the end of the day, if he didn’t want me here, I was gone. Not because Wolfe would kick me out into the snow but because it was the right thing to do. This was Noel’s home, and he had to be 100 percent comfortable with everything that happened here, at least as it pertained to me. He was allowed to be grumpy if he was told to do chores. That was pretty much a rite of passage.

I looked through all the cupboards. I was going to make pancakes because everybody likes pancakes and they were quick. I mixed up the batter, and my fingers tingled a tad.

In a human, that meant something was wrong with their body, but with me, it meant my magic was there. There wasn’t a lot of it, just a little, and I used it to amplify my pancake-making skills.

As I flipped the cakes over on the griddle, the first batch looked like cookies—not just one kind of cookie either but all different kinds of cookies. There was a pancake that looked like a frosted Christmas tree cookie, another that looked like a chocolate chip, and another that was oatmeal raisin. They would taste just like pancakes, but they were adorable and fun and perfect. I couldn’t wait for Noel to see them, and I didn’t have to because next thing I knew, his arms were wrapped around my leg.

“I knew you were ours! I knew you were ours!”