Page 68 of Avidian
He shrugs, unrepentant. “You make it sound so calculated. I’d call it...spontaneous.”
I laugh, nestling back into his side as the Ferris wheel begins to move again, our cart swaying gently as it descends. “I’m not sure what’s worse—your smugness or the fact that it actually worked.”
“I’ll take that as a win,” he says, his arm tightening around me as he looks out at the carnival lights below. “You seem like you needed a night to just...be.”
I glance up at him. “To just...be?”
“Yeah,” he says, his expression thoughtful now. “No missions, no projecting into creepy veils, no looking over your shoulder every five minutes. Be Kat. Laughing. Smiling. Forgetting the rest of the world exists, even if it’s only for a little while.”
As the ride slows and we near the bottom, I tug on his coat sleeve. “Thank you.”
“For bribing a Ferris wheel operator?” he jokes, but his eyes soften when he sees my expression.
“For tonight,” I say, looking away. “For making me feel like...me.”
Malachi’s smile turns softer, more genuine. “Anytime, demon. But don’t thank me yet. We still have to go ice skating.”
“Ice skating,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you want me to break my neck tonight too?” I joke, though I’ve never actually tried any kind of skating before.
Malachi grins, that infuriatingly charming half-smile that somehow always gets me to go along with his plans. “I won’t let you get hurt.”
The way he says it, so confident and easy, makes it impossible to argue. I roll my eyes but follow him willingly, my nerves already tangling with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
It’s not as hard as I thought it would be, but I have a death grip on Malachi’s arm the entire time, clinging to him like my life depends on it. Every now and then, he glances down at me with a teasing look on his face, but he doesn’t say anything. He steadies me, his hand warm and secure on mine.
The skating trail is breathtaking. It’s not some big circular rink like I imagined. Instead, it weaves through a cluster of lonely trees and is lined with holiday decorations that glow against the dark night. There’s a snowman made entirely of Christmas lights, its bulbous form cheerfully flickering, and a sleigh with fake, lit-up reindeer poised as if ready to take off into the starry sky.
It reminds me of being a kid, of those rare, magical winters when my parents would string lights around the house and hang stockings by the fireplace. A pang of nostalgia hits me hard, mingled with the ache of loss. I haven’t celebrated Christmas—or any holiday, really—since they died.
Marco’s family throws extravagant holiday parties, but they’re nothing like what I remember. They’re cold and impersonal, and thankfully I’m usually not invited.
“Are you okay?” Malachi’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. He slows his stride, steadying us both as I wobble slightly.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “This is really nice.”
He squeezes my hand lightly and guides me along the glowing path.
The skates slip out from under me without warning, and before I even have time to yelp, Malachi’s hands are on me. He reacts so fast it’s like he was waiting for this to happen, catching me before I hit the ice. But instead of keeping us both upright, he lets himself fall, landing on his back with a soft grunt—me sprawled right on top of him.
I blink down at him, my heart racing from the near-disaster. His face is inches from mine, and he’s laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Hey!” I shove at his chest, which doesn’t budge because he’s basically made of stone. “You let me fall!”
He chuckles harder, his deep voice rumbling under me. “I never said I wouldn’t let you fall,” he says, one hand still steady on my waist. “I said I wouldn’t let you get hurt.”
I narrow my eyes at him, my mouth twitching with the threat of a smile I don’t want to give him. “That’s semantics.”
“That’s survival,” he counters, his smile widening. “And clearly I’m very good at it. You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No, but I might hurt you if you keep laughing,” I mutter, but I can’t keep the heat out of my cheeks or the laugh that escapes me despite myself.
He props himself up on his elbows slightly, forcing me to shift so we’re even closer. “You’re cute when you’re mad,” he teases.
“You’re impossible,” I shoot back but don’t move away. Instead, I find myself lingering there for a moment too long, caught in the warmth of him and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
The cold ice beneath us is a stark contrast to the heat building between us, and as much as I want to make some sarcastic retort, I...don’t. Instead, I bite my lip, the tiniest of smiles creeping onto my face as I finally push myself up, standing on wobbly legs.
“Come on,” I say, holding out a hand to help him up. “Let’s get more of that hot chocolate before we freeze to death.”
