Dancer sat up and shook snow from her velvety antlers. Bad idea. Her head hurt, pounded like a child getting their first drum set under the tree. At her age, she should know better than to get sloshed, especially this close to Christmas. Santa expected all his reindeer to be in fit form, but in her defense, she’d been trying to mend her broken heart.

The bull she’d had her sights set on was engaged to another. It should be noted Rudolph never showed her the slightest interest, and yet she’d been hopeful that—as she was the only other reindeer misfit—they’d be naturally drawn to each other. Him with his glowing red nose, her with the horny nubs that didn’t disappear when she shifted. Her deformity meant she couldn’t date outside of, or even leave, the North Pole because she couldn’t be seen in public—unless she wanted to end up with her head mounted on someone’s wall or as a lab specimen dissected by curious humans.

Her inability to leave the North Pole shattered her dream of one day becoming a FUC agent and fighting crime. Some would say she should be happy she got to work for the jolliest man on Earth, but those people obviously had never worked for the big man. Santa trained them hard, had to since he wouldn’t lay off the jelly donuts. They’d had to reinforce the sled for the second time in as many years.

Thinking of her boss made her squint at the dark sky, the usual for this time of the year in the North Pole. They wouldn’t see sunlight again until March. According to the position of stars, morning fast approached, and if she didn’t get moving, she’d be late for sleigh training. Not a good idea, as it would ruin her bid to lead the team this year. Not that she stood a chance. Rudolph had the big guy wrapped around his ruby-red nose.

Dancer pushed herself up from the snow, swaying on her wobbly legs. Maybe she should send a message she couldn’t make training because she was sick. Sick with the candy cane flu.

A scream from inside the village made the nutcrackers in her head clack their jaws harder. Ow. Some people had zero consideration for the hungover.

“Run for your lives!” an elf yelled, his high-pitched voice carrying and adding to the pounding discomfort.

Probably a Yeti incursion. They liked to raid around Christmas, knowing the elves would be baking their favorite treat—fruit cake. The QUEEFS—Quick Uber Elite Elf Fighting Squad—would handle it. The combat-trained elves were the village defence against predators. Dancer had applied when her dream of being a FUC agent fell through, but not being an elf, she got rejected immediately.

Totally unfair.

Dancer took a moment to stretch her stiff limbs. At least she’d shifted before collapsing in the snowbank. Nothing worse than waking up with frostbite, especially given the remedy tasted so foul. Whoever came up with the idea of mixing cinnamon with bourbon, crème de menthe, and turkey broth should have their taste buds checked.

As she rose to her wobbly hoofs, more yelling occurred. The QUEEFS must have mustered to repel the Yeti.

As she went to totter around the mound of snow—sidestepping a pile of puke with chunks of cherries—a puffin came waddling past.

She bleated a querying note at his panic.

The puffin, known as Joe, paused, and his eyes widened at the sight of her.

“Run!” squeaked her friend, who could speak in his bird shape.

She huffed. As if she’d flee. It was just a Yeti. The QUEEFS would toss it some fruitcakes until it stopped smashing the gingerbread houses. Not exactly the best building material, but the elves preferred it over igloos.

“It’s not a Yeti,” Joe huffed, understanding her disdain. “The village is being attacked by Krampus.”

She uttered a scoffing snort.

“I swear it’s true. Someone calling themselves Krampus has arrived with an army. Santa’s workshop is under siege.”

Her muzzle dropped open in shock.

“He’s got wolverines and walrus rounding up everyone. Flee while you can.”

Flee? No way. This was her chance to fight. Dancer suddenly had visions of grandeur. If she saved Christmas, Santa would be so thankful he’d let her lead the sleigh instead of Rudolph.

Joe scurried off as something exploded in the village and sent up a cloud of multicolored smoke. The damage to the paint factory would slow down production in the New Year. Good thing the elves had already finished this year’s batch of toys.

Despite her pounding head, she had to act, even as she didn’t know what she could do. She’d never trained to fight. Then again, perhaps Joe misunderstood the situation. Puffins weren’t known for their intelligence. A peek at the situation seemed called for.

A quick trot brought her around the snowbank and in sight of the village.

A village under attack.

Elves ran to and fro, chased by wolverines who appeared to be herding them in the direction of Gingerbread Hall. Walrus stood guard at the village entrance, kind of a misnomer since there was no wall or fence around the place.

While the place appeared overrun, the QUEEFS were trying their best to repel. Armed with candy cane shooters, hot cocoa throwers, and licorice whips, they went after the invaders. However, a forty-pound elf was no match for a ridiculously heavy walrus.

The red and white striped missiles bounced off the hide of the big male that humped its way toward the squad, which splintered and bolted in different directions.

As she watched, another explosion rocked the snow underfoot, and a river of hot taffy began rolling through the icy lanes, coating everything in its path, from elf to walrus. It proved especially painful to listen to Freezo the Snowman scream, “I’m melting.”

It occurred to Dancer that she alone would not be enough to turn the tide. Walrus outweighed her and could be nasty with those goring tusks. Wolverines loved to tear out tendons to topple the four-legged. Saving the village would require help beyond that which the QUEEFS could provide, but the nearest FUC outpost was in Greenland, which meant crossing the Arctic Sea. She could swim, but she’d freeze, drown, or get eaten before she managed to traverse the five hundred-plus miles.

It would have been an easy trip if she could fly, only she couldn’t soar without Santa’s dust, which he kept locked away in a vault along with his bible of Good and Naughty Children.

However, she knew where to find a hidden stash. Her good friend Comet had managed to filch some so she could visit her boyfriend in Alert, Nunavut.

Dancer retreated from the village and trotted to the training field where Santa had an obstacle course set up for them to run their paces. Chimneys for them to leap over. Narrow roofs that required precise landing lest the sleigh fall off. Steep sloping tile. Asphalt surface. Woven grass. Every kind of roof dotted the field, as Santa took their training seriously.

The special dust had been tucked inside a chimney, and as Dancer pulled the baggie out with her teeth, she heard a grunt. A glance behind showed a walrus humping in her direction.

Jumping hollyberries, she had to speed up. Dancer tugged at the drawstring with her teeth, loosening it enough to see there weren’t many precious sprinkles left.

A loud whistle by the walrus brought some wolverines yipping.

Time to go. She upended the bag, and dust dumped out, landing on the hard ice. Dancer bent her head and sniffed the powder, feeling it tickle as it went up her nose. She would have liked to have snorted more, but those wily polar devils were coming at her fast.

Hopefully she’d inhaled enough. She began to run, her long legs stretching, her adrenaline sluggishly waking and erasing the last remnants of her hangover.

She didn’t have a proper runway to get up to speed. However, she did have motivation, as the racing wolverines got closer, slavering with excitement.

On Dancer and Dancer and Dancer and Dancer. She encouraged herself using Santa’s chant, wondering if any of her reindeer friends survived the attack. She almost stumbled at the thought she might be the only one left.

A chimney in her way led to her making a mighty leap. For a second, she remained aloft, but the powder hadn’t fully taken effect. She needed her blood coursing, moving the dust through her body. She huffed hotly as she strained, moving her legs rapidly.

Snap. The jaws that snapped much too close to her hindquarters startled her into jumping again, her legs still pedaling. This time she didn’t sink back down. She went up.

And up.

Only as she realized she flew did she glance down to see the wolverines converging under her, muzzles upturned in anticipation.

Not today, mongrels.

Dancer ran on air, heading for the Arctic Sea, racing as fast as she could, knowing the power would run out and she needed to reach land before that happened. She used the stars to guide her route, something she’d been taught but never had to do before. It was eerie flying by herself. Usually, she only ever took the skies with the team. But if Comet could do it to get laid, then so could she!

She might have made it to Greenland had a storm not suddenly developed. Dark clouds, heavy snow, whipping winds. She fought against the buffeting tempest, disoriented, tired, but determined.

Bad weather wasn’t new. She’d flown through worse. Only, she usually had Santa and Rudolph to guide her.

When the dust began to fail, she found herself losing altitude, sinking, sinking. The only reason she didn’t panic? The dark churning sea had changed to white, meaning she’d reached solid ground. She kept descending, readying to land. The storm chose to kick up a notch, rendering visibility to nil, which was how she ended up slamming into a mountain.

Chapter 2

Nanook heard the excited shrieks and grumbled. Why, oh why, wouldn’t his darling hellions nap anymore? There used to be a time when they’d all snuggle in a furry big pile, having the grandest slumbers. However, his daughters, having recently turned five, made it clear those days were done.

He rolled from his comfy chair to the floor on his four paws and gave a quick glance around. He could hear their excited chatter but didn’t see them inside the cave. Those precocious brats had gone outside into the nasty storm.

Before he could exit and give them a stern scolding, and see what had their fur in a fluff, they entered huffing and chuffing. Pure white and cuddly, their coats laced in snow, seeing their blatant disregard for his rules led him to shift and bellow, “What were you doing outside without me?” While he encouraged independence, he did require they remain within his sights, given the predators that would gladly take down a still-learning cub.

Siku shifted and clapped her hands as she squealed. “Dada! We found something.”

“Found what?”

The reply came from Sesi, who also transformed. “A woman with horns.”

He blinked, mostly because the statement made no sense. “Do you mean a caribou?” Herds of them inhabited Ellesmere Island.

“Yes and no. You have to help her. She was too heavy for us to lift.” Siku pointed to the doorway with its weighted leather flap to keep out most of the snow and cold drafts.

Obviously, there was a communication issue. While his girls were highly intelligent, their young age made them perceive the world differently than an adult. Still, their claim bore checking out.

“You stay here while I go have a look.”

He swapped back into his bear rather than get dressed. Maybe he could finish that nap before dinner.

Out into the storm he lumbered, the whipping snow reducing visibility and clinging to his fur, not that it bothered him. They didn’t call his kind ice bears for nothing.

He didn’t have to go far to find what had his daughters in a tizzy. He immediately spotted the woman lying in a heap in the snow.

A nude female to be exact, smelling of caribou, with antler nubs peeking from her hair.

He blinked, but the horns remained. Well damn. His daughters weren’t confused after all. But he had a dilemma. What to do with her? Leaving her outside, she’d die for sure. Bringing her inside meant dealing with a stranger. He didn’t like outsiders, or people in general.

In this scenario, he didn’t have a choice. He’d warm her up and set her on her way. He grabbed the female and heaved her over his shoulder. He brought her inside and dumped her naked butt on the wolf skin rug. She flopped onto her back, which meant noticing, despite her frigid pallor, the stranger had an attractive countenance and a fine form.

While not a gentlebear, he glanced away.

Siku clapped her hands. “She’s pretty. Can we keep her?”

“Yes, Dada, can we?” Sesi squealed.

He shifted and grabbed his robe before muttering, “No, we cannot keep her. She’s not a pet.”

“I know that,” Siku huffed, rolling her eyes. Where had she learned that? Probably her cousins whom they’d visited recently when they went to get supplies.

“She can be our mommy,” Sesi declared. She and her twin had been bugging him of late about how they didn’t have one. Apparently, they’d reached an age where they noticed such things. When they asked where their mother went, rather than say off sucking an elf’s dick, he’d muttered, She died. Seemed kinder than explaining the slag abandoned them without a second thought.

“You can’t just decide a random stranger is going to be your mother,” he pointed out, tossing a blanket over the stranger. His logic didn’t deter his stubborn girls.

“Yes, we can,” Siku insisted. “Rory got a new daddy. Rory says his mommy found him when she went to Alert for supplies.” Patty never met a man she didn’t want to bring home, although the most recent one had lasted longer than most at six months.

“How come you never brought home a mommy when you went to Alert?” added Sesi. Alert was the nearest town, if you could call a place with less than two hundred people a town. Ellesmere Island being remote with harsh seasons didn’t exactly boast a huge population. A few hundred people at most.

“Because we don’t need a mother. You have me, the best father ever.”

The girls eyed each other and used that secret twin connection they’d been born with to say in synchronization, “We want one.”

“This one,” Siku emphasized.

“The answer is no. It’s not up to the kids to choose a mommy.”

“Who chooses then?” Sesi cocked her head as she asked.

“Is there a store to find a mommy?” his other innocent daughter asked.

Was he really going to have to tell them about the bears and the bees? “You can’t buy a mommy, or a daddy for that matter.” Then, because they were opening his mouths to bombard him, he added, “What usually happens is a man and a woman will meet, and if they really like each other, they might decide to live together and be a family.”

“How can you meet someone when you don’t go anywhere?” Siku pointed out.

“And you hate everyone,” Sesi stated.

His girls knew him all too well, and they raised valid points, which he didn’t want to address, so he diverted their reasoning. “Has it occurred to you that maybe this woman doesn’t want to be a mommy?”

Again, the twins shared a secret look before saying, “Why wouldn’t she want us?”

Siku’s lower lip jutted. “Are you saying we’re not cute?”

“Are we not perfect?” Sesi’s eyes brimmed.

“Of course, you’re cute.” And excellent at using it to their advantage. “And perfect.” Perfectly capable of driving him up an iceberg.

“Then she will want to be our mommy and tuck us in and read us stories—”

“And bake cookies!” Sesi declared, interrupting her sister.

Nanook held in a sigh. He’d been doing that more and more often of late. It began when his cubs learned to speak and had been snowballing as their bright little minds grasped more than they should.

Who knew what they’d start demanding once they started school? They’d turned five, and while they didn’t have to attend kindergarten by law at that age, he knew they’d have to go to school eventually, which meant moving from his very remote cave to a place with people.

He disliked most people, but he loved his daughters, hence why they’d be relocating in the spring so they could start school in the fall. Not in Santa’s Village, though, even if they had an excellent scholastic program. He still couldn’t see or hear about anything Christmas without getting into a snarling rage.

“Tell you what. Once we move to the cape, I will hire a nanny who can bake and read stories.” A good compromise in his mind.

“A nanny is not a mommy,” Sesi stubbornly insisted.

“Close enough. Now enough of that kind of talk. I think she’s waking.”

Indeed, the woman stirred, rustling the fur blanket covering her lush frame.

A body he surprisingly admired. How long since he’d paid any attention to the opposite sex? He blamed his daughters’ big idea for his ogling. Making this random stranger their mommy, indeed. Never again. He’d sworn off relationships after the fiasco with Anjij.

The stranger opened her eyes, blinked at him, and murmured, “Please don’t eat me, Mr. Bear.” Her sense of smell must be working.

Siku giggled. “Dada doesn’t eat people. His favorite food is whales.”

“Which are blech.” Siku stuck out her tongue. “Burgers are better.”

“Er, what?” The woman blinked and sat up, holding the blanket to her chest as she glanced around. “Where am I?”

“In our house,” Sesi chirped.

“And your house is where, exactly?” Asked as she stood. The stranger put a hand to her head and swayed on her feet. “Oh, peppermint sticks. I must have crashed hard.”

“Were you driving a snowmobile?” Siku asked. “Uncle Arnie broke his. Aunt Kira said he crashed it ’cause he’s a dumb bear who rides too fast.”

“No, no snowmobile. I was flying,” the woman murmured.

“You’re a bird?” Sesi’s nose wrinkled, and Nanook understood her confusion. The woman’s scent was the distinct one of a caribou… but caribou didn’t fly. It hit him then. Oh, frozen shitsicle.

“You’re a reindeer!” Which, for the confused, was the European name for caribou. Why the difference, he couldn’t have said.

“I am. And you’re a polar bear. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way—"

“You’re one of them,” Nanook harrumphed, glaring at her.

“Excuse me?”

“One of the reindeer on his team,” he growled, avoiding the S word.

“I am.” Her chin lifted. “Dancer Lightfoot, second lead. And you are?”

“Not interested in dealing with you. Buh-bye.” He stood by the door and gave a scooting gesture.

She pursed her lips. “It’s still storming outside.”

“And?”

“While I’d love to accommodate your request, it would be foolish of me since I can’t get my bearings until it stops.”

A valid point. “Fine, you can stay until it dies down, but then I want you gone.”

“Goodness. Someone is a Grinch,” Dancer huffed.

“What’s a Grinch?” asked Sesi.

“Someone who hates Santa,” the woman replied.

“What’s a Santa?” was Siku’s next question.

“Wait, how do you not know who Santa is?” Dancer sounded shocked.

Nanook had to act fast. “Girls, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private chat with our guest.”

“But, Dada, we found her,” whined Sesi.

“Finders-keepers, remember?” Siku reminded.

“That doesn’t apply to people,” he snapped as he grabbed Dancer by the arm and dragged her from the main living area to his bedroom. Before he could explain she needed to keep her Santa nonsense to herself, Dancer exclaimed, “This is the nicest cave I’ve ever seen. It’s so big. How many rooms?”

“Five. Now about—”

“Five? It’s a veritable mansion. Did you carve it out of the mountain yourself?”

“Parts of it, yes. Now—”

“This is very impressive.” She dragged her fingers over the smooth wall, chiseled in his spare time.

The compliment puffed his chest but did nothing for his attitude. “Forget about my house. It isn’t important. You are not to mention Santa or anything Christmas to the girls.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because Christmas is banned in my home.”

“Banned?” She ogled him. “Isn’t that unfair to your daughters?”

She zeroed in on the guilt he kept stuffing down—deep down. Not everyone celebrated that dreaded holiday. His girls were doing just fine. “They can’t miss what they don’t know.”

“But what about their presents? I’ll bet they’re on Santa’s good list. You’re depriving them of—”

“Nothing. They have everything they could need. A roof over their head. Food for their bellies. Books to read.”

“What about toys?”

“They have some, but then again, who needs fabricated items when there’s a world outside to explore?”

“Glad you’re not my dad,” she muttered.

So was he because his body’s reaction to the very attractive reindeer would have been wildly inappropriate.