Page 14 of Milk
“If you choose the mating bond, we’ll have a mating ceremony, and you’ll become my queen. Once you’re my queen, your fae lifeblood will awaken, meaning we’ll have hundreds of years together. You’ll live here with me, rule the North Pole, and fuel Winter—and Christmas—magic.”
“Will…will we have children?”
He nods, smiling softly. “If you wish them, yes.”
“What if we don’t? What happens to the kingdom?”
“Without heirs, the magic will pass to another line.”
“Don’t you want heirs?”
“I do. But mostly, I just want you.” He strokes his fingers over my cheek. “I want to know you, to learn you. To fall deeper in love with you with every day, every year, every decade that passes.”
I sigh and cuddle into him, loving the feeling of being in his arms. We lie like that for a long time, his hands roaming my skin, my fingers playing in his hair. He tells me stories of the NorthPole, of the reindeer and the endless winter sky, of the children who still believe. His voice is like a delicious lullaby, and I drift, half-asleep, until his voice pulls me awake.
“It’s time, little one.”
I don’t argue, but my body tenses, reacting to the thought of leaving. He helps me dress, his touch lingering on my waist, my wrists, like he doesn’t want to let me go. Then a snow globe materializes out of thin air, and he takes it and presses it into my hands. It’s heavy, and when I peer inside, I see an exact replica of the Winter Palace. I tilt it, watching glittering silver and gold flakes fall around the gleaming castle.
“When you’re ready to give me your answer, you can summon me by shaking this,” he says. “You must make a choice as to where you feel you belong.” His kisses me, slow and sweet, and then brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “I pray it’s here. With me.”
I’m caught up in a swirl of glittering snowflakes, and suddenly I’m standing in my bakery, holding the snow globe.
It’s cold, and empty, and I already miss him.
Eight
Holly
The next morning, I stand alone in my bakery, holding the snow globe. I look around, taking it all in. Am I ready to walk away from this? From Evergreen Valley? I like my life here. Mostly. Sometimes.
But I can’t deny that what Nick’s offering me feels like…more. It feels important. Destined in a way that should scare me, but it doesn’t. It makes me want to run towards Nick, not away from him.
My body is still humming from everything that happened yesterday, but our connection is already more than physical. He’s sweet, and tender, and a little mysterious. I don’t know him—he’s practically a stranger—and yet it feels as though I’ve always known him. He feels familiar, not foreign.
I want him, in every single way.
I barely slept last night, turning everything over and over in my mind. Tracing hypothetical paths—a life in the North Pole, a life here in Evergreen Valley.
My heart pounds, hard and fast, as I look at the snow globe, and I remember the way Nick told me he loved me. That he prayed I’d choose him and a magical life together in the North Pole. I take a deep breath, then another, my hands shaking slightly. I shift, making my sweater pull tight against my breasts, which are already full and tingling again in a way that makes me wet. My nipples ache, desperate for Nick’s mouth, for the milking machine.
I peer into the snow globe, studying the Winter Palace. Then I close my eyes, and a vision of Nick fills my mind. Nick, with his flowing silvery hair and beard, his icy blue eyes tinged with gold, his broad shoulders and wide chest. And when I think about him, I realize that my heart feels more full than I ever thought possible.
I know what I want. Who I want. I’m ready.
I take a breath and shake the snow globe.
There’s a sudden swirl of frost and golden glitter, a gust of sharp, icy air, and then he’s here, in my bakery. Frost patterns bloom across the bakery’s windows, and Nick’s cedar and mint smell fills the air.
My heart thumps happily in my chest at the sight of him, tall and wide, his silver hair falling around his shoulders, his beard neatly groomed. Snowflakes cling to his shoulders, as if he ran through the snow to get here. His chest rises fast beneath his dark red coat, hands flexing into fists at his sides, as though he’s stopping himself from reaching for me. Our eyes meet, my heart stuttering at the hunger and possession I can feel in his gaze. The love.
A slow grin spreads across his face, making little lines fan out around his eyes. “Holly.” I can hear the emotion in his voice, the hope.
I step towards him, my legs a little shaky, the floor creaking softly beneath me. I clutch the snow globe, gripping it so hardthat the tips of my fingers ache. My chest is tight, as if the words I need to say are pressing against my ribs, desperate and eager to burst free.
“I want to be yours.” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “I choose you. I choose us. I want the magic. I want you.” Another step. Nick looks like he isn’t even breathing, he’s so still. “And I want to give you all of me. My milk, my magic, my heart.”
He moves closer, hands sliding around my waist. “Those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard, little one,” he says, his voice quiet, rough. “Tell me again.”
