CHAPTER 3:SNOW, GUNS, AND BLIZZARDS OF TROUBLE

The crack of gunfire echoed across the snow-covered lodge grounds, splitting the serene morning like a lightning bolt. Sebastian Volkov barely had time to register the sound before instinct took over. He shoved Noelle to the ground behind a decorative ice sculpture shaped like a reindeer. Snow sprayed into the air as she landed with an undignified “oof.”

“Daddy!” she shrieked. “What’s happening?”

“Stay down,” Sebastian growled, rolling over to cover her. His eyes darted to Nyra, who was already scanning the perimeter, a small pistol in hand—tenser than anyone should ever be before breakfast.

“You always bring a gun to coffee?” Sebastian asked, his voice low, tight, but almost amused.

Nyra’s lips curved slightly. “You really shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

He scowled. “I want the answer.”

“You wouldn’t like it,” she said, snapping off a shot that sent a ricochet over the snow. “Besides, my coffee is stronger than your coffee.”

Sebastian stared. Somehow, she’d made a gunfight sound sarcastic—and even slightly charming. Noelle, sitting cross-legged in the snow, was furiously waving her tiny mitten.

“Don’t shoot each other, okay?” she demanded. “I like both of you!”

Sebastian froze. He wanted to argue, but Nyra’s eyes flicked toward him, warning. Her warning carried something else today—something like… playful tension.

A shadow moved between the trees. A man in black tactical gear ducked low, holding a rifle. He fired once—then ran.

Sebastian rolled toward him, firing a shot that sent the man diving for cover. Nyra darted after, her boots crunching against the snow.

“Cover me!” she called over her shoulder.

He didn’t answer, because he didn’t have to. Something about her in the chaos—the way she moved, precise, confident, deadly—made him… furious. Furious that he was noticing. Furious that she was saving him. Furious that he’d rather notice her than the attackers.

Noelle, of course, decided now was the perfect moment to give a commentary.

“Daddy,” she yelled, “you’re getting sand in your hair!”

Sebastian froze mid-run. “Snow! It’s snow, Noelle!”

“I don’t care! Sand is bad!”

Nyra rolled her eyes but laughed under her breath. She ducked behind a snow-covered bench, firing again. “Your daughter has a weird sense of priorities,” she said.

Sebastian growled. “She’s six.”

“And incredibly honest,” Nyra replied.

Another shot rang out. This time, it was closer. Sebastian felt the heat of the bullet whizz past his arm. He crouched lower, dragging Noelle behind a large snow-covered planter.

“Daddy, do you have to shoot people?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said flatly. “Yes, I do.”

Nyra’s eyes met his. “And yet, somehow, I like you more when you do.”

He ignored her. Mostly.

“Sebastian!” she hissed, pointing toward the attackers. “Three more coming from the left!”

He scanned quickly. Three men, rifles raised, snow flying around their boots as they advanced. He raised his gun. Nyra was already moving. They were a perfect team, not that either of them would admit it.

Sebastian fired once, hitting the snow beside the nearest attacker. Nyra lunged forward, spinning around him, firing two precise shots that sent two men tumbling. Sebastian rolled, firing again, and the third attacker fell.

Noelle clapped. “Yay! You did it! You’re like superheroes!”

Sebastian groaned. “We are not superheroes.”

Nyra crouched down beside Noelle. “She’s adorable,” she said softly. “I like her.”

“Do not like her,” Sebastian snapped, though he could feel a little warmth creeping into his chest. He adjusted his stance, ready for more.

“Relax,” Nyra said. “I like her. You don’t get a choice.”

Sebastian grit his teeth. He wanted to argue. He wanted to glare. But he also wanted to… look away.

Another sound, this time closer. The wind shifted, carrying the faint echo of more footsteps.

Sebastian cursed under his breath. “They’re not done.”

Nyra’s smirk returned. “Neither are we, apparently.”

Noelle jumped up. “Do you two always fight like this?”

Sebastian stared. “We—no.”

Nyra raised an eyebrow. “Technically, he does fight like this every morning.”

Noelle giggled, running between them. “Can I have a turn?”

Sebastian blinked. “A turn… to shoot people?”

“Yes! I’m good with snowballs!”

Before either adult could protest, she grabbed a handful of snow and launched it straight at Nyra’s face.

Nyra shrieked, slipping slightly in the snow as Sebastian tried—and failed—not—to laugh. Then she scooped up snow and retaliated.

A full-blown snowball war erupted in the middle of a gunfight scene.

Sebastian sighed. “This is exactly why Christmas is a mistake.”

“You’re not having fun,” Nyra said, ducking another snowball.

“I am not supposed to enjoy this,” he grumbled.

“You are,” she replied simply.

By mid-afternoon, the attackers had scattered—or at least retreated far enough. The snow was trampled, everyone was wet, and Noelle had somehow created a small snow fort. Sebastian, exhausted, sat inside it with Nyra crouched opposite him.

“Why are you here?” he asked quietly.

“Why am I here?” she echoed. “I came for the same reason you did. My daughter would have loved a Christmas getaway too, but…” She paused, eyes flicking to the lodge. “It’s complicated.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t come here to kill me?”

Nyra smirked. “Not yet.”

“Not helpful,” he muttered.

“No,” she admitted. “Probably not.”

Noelle bounced happily between them. “Do you like each other yet?”

Sebastian choked on a snowball. “We do not like each other.”

Nyra laughed so hard she almost fell out of the snow fort. “Noted.”

And yet… the tension lingered. Between bullets, snow, laughter, and playful banter, neither of them could deny the strange pull forming. They were rivals, enemies, and in every other universe, they should have hated each other.

But here—amid chaos, snow, and a little girl’s mischief—they were alive. Too alive. Too aware of each other.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in pink and orange streaks, Sebastian received another message. A single line:

“This Christmas, you won’t get away.”

Sebastian’s hand tightened around his gun. He looked at Nyra. She read it instantly.

“Well,” she said, adjusting her coat, “looks like neutral ground is officially a myth.”

Noelle looked between them, eyes wide. “More enemies?”

Sebastian sighed. “Unfortunately… yes.”

Nyra grinned. “Then it’s Christmas Eve. Time to make it interesting.”

Sebastian froze. He didn’t like how her grin made his heart pound—or how he knew she was right.

The snow settled silently around them, but Sebastian Volkov knew one thing: by morning, nothing would be the same. Not the lodge, not the town, and certainly not the fragile balance between him, Nyra… and the tiny whirlwind that was Noelle.