It is the thought that counts, but sometimes the execution matters too.
At home, I went straight to my room, tossing the bag onto the bed before heading to the wardrobe. I pulled out a shoebox from its hidden corner, where I kept my most precious treasures and personal papers.
Inside were Mica's worn letters, a tiny keychain-sized teddy bear my brother gave me for Christmas during our last year together, and an empty bubble gum box that my brother had fought so hard for when the hunters tried to confiscate it from me.
Nestled among these keepsakes was a small pebble with a face drawn on it in marker—one of the makeshift toys Des had created in our toyless childhood. These simple items were all that remained of those days. At the bottom of the box was a flimsy photo album, buried under the weight of what most would consider worthless junk.
Most of the photos were of my brother and me as children. I rarely had the strength to flip through the entire album, and today was no different. The album naturally opened to the middle, where a single, orphaned photo was tucked between the pages. This was the only picture in the album that showed me after my twelfth year—and it didn't include my brother.
The photo's corners were crumpled, one of them even torn. I smoothed the worn paper against my thigh, staring at Alex's wide grin and my own grumpy expression captured in the image.
Elsie had taken the photo after seizing her packmate's camera to document my presence in her pack. She was fortunate that the camera was an antique that instantly printed the photo. If it hadn't, I would have smashed the device, destroying any evidence of my existence. Instead, I merely took the photo from her and threatened to destroy the camera. Ignoring the disapproving stares of the two children, I stuffed the photo in my pocket—and somehow, I never got around to throwing it away.
After repacking the box, I returned it to its dusty corner at the bottom of the wardrobe. I carried the photo back to the bed and retrieved a frame from the bag. Only then did I notice the colorful wrapping paper and ribbons Luna had included. I sighed, understanding the unspoken suggestion. If you're going to give gifts, you might as well do it right.
Smiling to myself, I resignedly set to work on wrapping the gifts, a task far more tedious than I would normally tolerate. After all, wasn't it a bit ridiculous to wrap something just for someone else to tear it apart? But I could already imagine Luna's smug satisfaction, and that thought kept me going through the unnecessarily meticulous process.
By the time I finished, dusk had settled, and Alex burst into the room, brimming with excitement.
"The girls are here," he announced, practically bouncing.
I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. I had a strong suspicion that Alex, with Jo's help, had orchestrated this entire scenario. Little conspirators.
"Oh," I responded, feigning a lack of surprise. "Well, we shouldn't keep the ladies waiting, should we?"
Alex nodded enthusiastically. I grabbed the bag of presents, anticipating that I'd rather not make another trip. I also suspected there would be a long, arduous ordeal before the gifts could be given—an ordeal the delinquent before me and his loyal co-conspirator believed was an essential part of Christmas. Personally, I would have preferred to skip it altogether—unless, of course, it involved food. That part, I wouldn't mind.
We entered the kitchen, and almost immediately, Jo threw herself at me, wrapping me in a warm hug. She kissed my cheek lightly and smiled sweetly, her presence sending my heart into a wild rhythm as though under a spell. Every ounce of my willpower was dedicated to maintaining composure, resisting the overwhelming desire to kiss her.
Coffee, true to form, offered a reserved glance. Knowing her, spending Christmas with Alex and me wasn't exactly her ideal holiday setting. She acknowledged me with a nod, quietly sipping her freshly brewed coffee.
The kitchen was disgustingly festive, decked out with colorful decorations, garlands, and baubles everywhere. It was far from the understated approach we had agreed upon, and for that, Alex and I would definitely have a little chat.
We settled around the table, sipping mulled wine. Coffee had brought it, though she hadn't tasted it yet—I figured once she received my gift, that might change. Jo had baked a batch of cheerful, intricately decorated gingerbread cookies, filling the room with their festive aroma. Meanwhile, Alex had rigged up an old, worn-out radio that crooned songs far too sentimental and Christmasy for my liking.
Jo's laughter rang out as she recounted her afternoon adventures, providing a detailed rundown of her gifts. Her warm voice wove through the air, softening my usual defenses. Before I realized it, I was smiling, her cheer infectious. When Jo asked, Coffee reluctantly shared that her gifts were mundane and forgettable, except for a coffee machine from her father, which made her genuinely happy.
Jo laughed, missing the deeper significance of the gift. The coffee machine symbolized a reluctant acceptance from Coffee's father, who, after years of struggle, had finally begun to tolerate her unconventional lifestyle. Mr. Blutkaiser, a renowned noble, had long resisted his daughter's nonconformist ideas. Perhaps, one day, Coffee might even convince him to swap his afternoon cup of crimson for a sip of coffee—but that was as likely as him approving of her friendship with a human.
With a bittersweet smile, Alex shared the most unexpected part of his Christmas: a message from his childhood friend, Elsie. He told the girls they had been together since birth and noted that as children we played together a lot. This was a slight exaggeration because they wanted to play with me and I usually outsmarted them and laughed at their pathetic attempts.
He recounted tales of life in the pack, carefully omitting any mention of werewolves for Jo's sake. He and Elsie had been notorious troublemakers, their antics ensuring the pack never had a moment's peace. Encsi was the mastermind, with Alex happily following her lead in whatever mischief she concocted.
"I was really surprised," Alex laughed, his voice cheerful, though a trace of bitterness lingered beneath his words.
"I visited a friend today," I said, cutting through the chatter without any preamble. All eyes turned toward me, likely surprised that I had spoken up. "She's traveling with the Gypsy Caravan and invited us to their performance tonight. She said she'd like to meet you all. Would you be interested?"
"The Gypsy Caravan?" Jo asked, her excitement palpable.
"My dad was planning to take me," she explained, "but work got in the way."
"Who's this friend?" Alex inquired, his tone laced with curiosity and a touch of suspicion.
"I haven't known her long," I admitted.
"We should definitely go," Jo said eagerly, her enthusiasm lighting up the room.
Coffee let out a resigned sigh, succumbing to Jo's pleading gaze. Alex still seemed a bit wary, probably imagining I'd gotten involved with someone dubious again—not entirely inaccurate—but his interest was piqued.
"Time for the gifts," he declared, bringing an air of anticipation. Jo's face lit up instantly.
"Who's first?" the wolf asked, though the answer was obvious.
Jo placed her bag on her lap and pulled out the first gift, handing it to Coffee. The vampire's lips curled slightly—if I didn't know her better, I might have thought she was smiling. But, understanding her as I did, I refrained from making such an accusation. The colorful wrapping concealed a glass rose, delicate and intricate.
"It's beautiful," Coffee said softly. "Thank you."
With a subtle nod, Coffee handed over her own gift—a sophisticated notebook. Jo often wrote stories, and her current one was clearly nearing its end.
Jo pulled out the next gift, this time for me, her hands trembling slightly with anticipation. I accepted it with a smile and unwrapped it to reveal a snow globe. Inside, a quaint little house sat beneath the glass, surrounded by pine trees and a snowman. It looked like a perfect depiction of a real home at Christmas.
"Thanks," I murmured, then retrieved my present for her.
Jo's lips parted in awe as she tore open the wrapping to reveal the necklace. The subtle pulse of magic emanating from it was unmistakable, even to Coffee, who, for perhaps the first and last time, glanced at me with something close to acknowledgment in her eyes.
"My God!" Jo exclaimed, her eyes shimmering like captivated fireflies. "It's wonderful! Tell me it didn't cost a fortune!"
"No, I got off cheap, actually," I reassured her with a grin. "Can I help?"
Jo nodded, looking a bit flustered. My fingers brushed against her silky skin, sending a fiery chill through me. As I gazed into her eyes, I saw again the warmth that I cherished most in her.
Coffee cleared her throat, breaking the moment. I withdrew my hand quickly, and Jo blushed deeper. The vampire shot me a scowl but didn't say a word, nor did she try to curse me to hell—progress, I thought with a smirk.
Jo then handed Alex a personalized apron with "Master Chef" embroidered on it. He looked a bit embarrassed, mumbling under his breath about not being that great of a cook. I couldn't help but grin; Jo had outdone herself.
Alex chuckled, admitting he was actually tired of his old apron and liked this one a lot. For Jo, he had chosen a romance novel she'd casually mentioned over lunch once, and she seemed genuinely pleased with the thoughtful gesture.
Coffee's gift to Alex was a cookbook, which he accepted with a grin, assuring her that he would make good use of it. She handed me a packet of exotic cocoa, acquired through her father's trade network. The packaging alone looked more expensive than anything I owned. I never imagined Coffee would find a gift that could sweep me off my feet, but this came close.
Then came Alex's gift to me: a lace thong. A bright red one. The most provocatively red thong I'd ever seen. The girls turned crimson from ear to ear, while Alex laughed gleefully at my expression. Coffee's red slowly shifted to green—her keen visual senses were probably on overload.
"That's a really... delightful gift, Alex," I said, forcing a jovial grin. "You always know my heart's desires."
"It's only natural, mate," he grinned, winking. "You'll be a heartthrob in it."
He couldn't contain his laughter any longer, bursting into another fit. Jo, still blushing, chuckled softly, while Coffee, ever composed, sipped her coffee with an air of practiced indifference.
Last year, I had gifted Alex a studded collar, hoping to embarrass him, but he had been thrilled instead, promising to wear it to a heavy metal concert at the first opportunity. I handed Alex his present, wondering if he was anticipating another quirky surprise, as had become tradition in recent years.
When he unwrapped the picture frame, his reaction was different. He froze, his lips trembling as though he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. For a long moment, he simply stared at the photo, a soft, nostalgic smile gradually emerging on his face.
"I thought this was lost forever," he murmured, almost to himself.
"I found it among some old junk," I said with a shrug. "Figured you might want it. I was going to toss it out otherwise."
"Thanks, Shay," he said, his grin wide and genuine—something I hadn't seen in a long while.
Luna had been right. It was the perfect gift for this sentimental idiot.
"Look," he said, showing the photo to Jo and Coffee, who leaned in curiously.
"How adorable!" Jo exclaimed. "When was this taken?"
"Six years ago," I answered.
Alex glanced at me, his eyes warm with surprise. "I didn't think you'd remember that."
I shrugged again. "Just have a good memory."
He gave me a look so sentimental it made me wonder if he was about to hug the frame to his chest and roll around like a delighted golden retriever. Thankfully, he restrained himself, leaving that scene to my imagination.
"Coffee," I addressed the vampire, who lifted her gaze to meet mine. "Could I have a word with you outside?"
Jo and Alex exchanged puzzled looks, but I offered Jo a smile and Alex a reassuring glance, silencing their questions. Coffee followed me out into the crisp December evening. She watched me with curiosity as I handed her a small package. She unwrapped it, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"It's a unique potion," I explained. "The only one of its kind. It lets vampires experience human taste for a day. I wasn't sure if you'd want to use it today, so I thought it best to give it to you privately, so you can decide."
Her lips parted slightly in surprise, and for the first time, I saw genuine hope flicker in those cold, blue eyes.
"Is it… real?" she asked hesitantly.
"Why don't you find out for yourself?" I suggested.
She hesitated for a moment, then downed the contents of the bottle in a single gulp. Her expression shifted from uncertain to skeptical as she glanced at me, seeming to feel no immediate change. I'd expected this. With a small smile, I handed her a gingerbread cookie—star-shaped and adorned with intricate decorations.
Coffee took the cookie with trembling fingers, pausing before bringing it to her lips. Then, with a delicate bite, she slowly began to chew, her eyes closing as she savored the flavor. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, a single tear, shimmering like liquid silver, slid down from under her dark lashes. She took another bite, savoring it as if each flavor was something to be cherished.
She opened her eyes and looked up at me. In that brief glance, I could see something I never expected—genuine gratitude, and a soft acceptance that felt like the first time she truly saw me as a friend.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.
"Merry Christmas," I replied, offering her a smile. "Do you want to head back inside and try more things? I'll be right behind you."
Coffee nodded and silently closed the door behind her as she disappeared back into the house. I turned and headed down the stairs, glancing up to the roof where a dark figure perched. I took the gift from my bag and tossed it toward him. The cat caught it effortlessly, his emerald eyes glimmering in the dark with surprise.
"What's this?"
"I thought it was obvious," I teased, "It's Christmas. A colorful package. Thought you might connect the dots."
"For me?" he asked, hesitantly.
"No, for my neighbor Aunt Mariska," I rolled my eyes. "If you see her, feel free to give it to her."
"Oh," he said, sounding very intelligent.
Honestly, I half-expected him to ask if I really had a neighbor named Aunt Mariska.
"What, you're not going to open it?" I asked, impatience creeping into my voice. "It's freezing out here."
With a low growl, he tore through the wrapping. His reaction was immediate—a surprised squeak.
"Is this... what I think it is?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not a mind reader," I shot back, but the cat ignored my sarcasm.
He leapt down from the roof in a fluid motion, landing beside me in an instant. Eagerly, he slipped the cloak over his shoulders, tying it in a little bow. He pulled the hood over his head, his fingers tracing the delicate fabric in awe. He was mesmerized by the ethereal material on his hands that hid it.
"Let's go inside," I muttered, shivering. "I'm freezing my ass off out here."
I started to move, but the kid remained rooted in place, unsteady and hesitant.
"What?" I asked, my tone sharp. The cold wasn't helping my mood.
"Are you sure...?"
I sighed deeply, turning around with a mocking smile tugging at my lips. "You don't have anywhere else to go, do you? I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing some fury might come hunting you down from my roof."
We stepped into the warmth of the house, and as the cat planted his feet at the threshold, I was forced to push him toward the kitchen. The two girls glanced up, their eyes filled with curiosity, and Alex grinned knowingly at me. I rolled my eyes in response.
"Coffee, Jo," I said, "This is Rolo, a friend of mine. I promised him he could spend Christmas with us."
"Hello," the annoying gremlin kid muttered under his breath.
We finally made our way to the lively market, where the gypsies set up their stalls. Coffee was immediately drawn to the sweets.
"You'll get fat, Izzi," Jo remarked cheerfully, causing the vampire girl to blush deeply.
"I have a feeling you'll be on a strict diet after tonight," I grinned, enjoying her embarrassment.
Her blush deepened. Alex didn't know what I had done to Coffee, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he had an idea. His gaze was a mix of amusement and curiosity, but he haven't asked a single question yet.
The gypsies offered a variety of foreign delicacies, and Coffee couldn't resist sampling every single one. She flitted between the stalls like she was dancing, and for a brief moment, I could've sworn I saw a small, genuine smile tug at the corner of her lips. But no, I must have been imagining things.
Jo wrapped her arm around Coffee and steered her toward the stalls selling various goods, making it her mission to keep her friend's appetite in check. With her other hand, she pulled a bewildered Rolo along, who was still getting used to her assertive ways.
One of the vendor's tables was piled with crates, and the girls eagerly opened one. Out popped a clown's head on a spring, making them all gasp in surprise. Jo squealed and burst into laughter. Then, something completely unexpected happened—Coffee laughed too. It wasn't loud, but it was unmistakably a laugh. My mind refused to accept what my ears had heard. Coffee, the ice-cold vampire princess, had laughed.
"I wonder what you did to her," Alex said, draping an arm around my neck.
I glanced up at him. He was watching the girls with a warm smile, clearly enjoying the moment. I shifted my gaze back to the stalls, my thoughts still lingering on the sight of Coffee so... free.
Rolo sighed with a small, amused smile and announced that he wanted cotton candy. Coffee looked at Jo with a gleam of excitement in her eyes that made Jo laugh again. Without missing a beat, Jo clung to them both and dragged them toward the cotton candy vendor.
"I didn't do anything special," I replied, trying to play it off.
"It doesn't matter what happened," Alex remarked. "I've never seen her so happy."
I nodded, watching Coffee scan the crowd for something. When her eyes found me, her lips curved into a subtle smile. She shook Jo's jacket, and Jo followed her gaze. When they spotted me, Jo waved energetically and called us over. Without hesitation, I reached into Rolo's cotton candy and grabbed a huge chunk, much to his dismay.
"Hey!" he shouted in displeasure, but I just responded with a wicked grin.
Exotic music blasted through the air—drums, whistles, and flutes blending in a wild symphony. Our little group made its way through the throngs of people, eager to reach the source of the sound. By the time we squeezed through the crowd, though, the performance was winding down. The gypsies had danced and played, captivating the crowd with their mesmerizing rhythm. As the show came to a close, one of the dancers, draped in a blue veil, approached me.
"Did I charm you?" she asked, her voice playful.
I didn't even have to size her up, she was already showing me during the dance her shapely body wrapped in mysterious veils. She looked more than alluring in that dress—she knew exactly the effect she had.
"Luna," I grinned, then turned to the others, "Guys, meet my very dear friend, Luna."
Luna stepped up to each of them, her grace evident as she introduced herself and extended a hand in a fluid, almost regal gesture.
It quickly became clear that Luna took it upon herself to show us the best gypsy stalls, chatting away about everything and nothing as she led us through the market. Along the way, another gypsy handed her an ankle-length jacket, which she slipped on, looking effortlessly stylish.
When no one was looking, Alex whistled softly and nudged me in the side.
"Man, you never told me this particular friend was so hot," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Keep your eyes off of her," I grinned, amused by his reaction.
Luna, as if she could sense our playful exchange, glanced over her shoulder. Our eyes locked, and hers sparkled with amusement. But she didn't break her stride, continuing to chat with the girls as if nothing had happened.
The wolf next to me hummed with a knowing smirk, clearly not missing a beat.
"There's something in the air..." he teased, his eyes flicking between me and Luna.
"Oh, shut up," I muttered, elbowing him in the ribs.