Chapter 30

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‎The golden lights strung across the high rafters flickered softly as the clock near the entrance chimed eleven thirty. The Christmas Eve banquet was reaching its peak, the room filled with the warm hum of laughter, the clinking of cider glasses, and the rich scent of roasted chestnuts and pine resin. A few couples were still swaying gently on the wooden floor near the spruce tree, while others gathered around the long tables to trade holiday stories.

‎Kat stood near the punch bowl, her hand resting comfortably in the crook of Harlan’s arm. She smoothed down the front of her wine-red velvet dress, keeping her posture tall, elegant, and entirely composed. She had spent the last hour strictly managing her thoughts, refusing to analyze the strange, sudden spike of emotion that had flared up earlier in the evening. As far as she was concerned, she was at a holiday celebration with a kind, handsome doctor who treated her with absolute respect, and that was where her focus would stay.

‎"Can I get you another cup of warm cider, Kat?" Harlan asked softly, looking down at her with clear, genuine affection. "Or maybe a slice of Marge's apple tart before the midnight toast?"

‎Kat smiled up at him, her dark eyes bright and easy. "A warm cider sounds lovely, Harlan. Thank you."

‎"Right back," Harlan promised with a warm nod, stepping toward the refreshment table a few paces away.

‎Kat stood alone for a moment, enjoying the pleasant atmosphere of the hall. Nearby, Abby Miller was standing by the dessert display, gesturing excitedly as she told a story to a few of the town council members. Standing beside Abby was Azriel.

‎He was broad and imposing in his dark charcoal blazer, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the side aisle. He held a glass of amber whiskey in his large hand, his stance rigid, unyielding, and silent. He wasn't participating in Abby's conversation. His jaw flexed into a hard, dangerous pulse along his cheekbone, his knuckles turning white where his fingers gripped the glass. His face was an absolute mask of stone, entirely unreadable as he stared out into the crowded room.

‎Kat caught the tight, rigid set of his jaw out of the corner of her eye. For a split second, a quiet, familiar thud echoed deep in her chest—a sudden, uninvited wave of heat rising beneath her skin.

‎Kat immediately crushed the feeling, shutting her mind to it before it could take root. She didn't care why he looked like he was ready to punch a timber post, nor was she going to waste a single second trying to decipher the mood of a man who chose to live behind stone walls. She adjusted her gold locket with a firm, deliberate touch, turning her head smoothly as Harlan returned with two steaming mugs.

‎"Here you go, Kat," Harlan said smoothly, handing her a mug with a warm, attentive smile. "To a wonderful Christmas."

‎"To a wonderful Christmas, Harlan," Kat replied, her voice sweet, clear, and full of effortless warmth as she clinked her mug against his, burying any lingering distraction beneath her cool, unshakeable grace.

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‎As midnight approached, Mayor Thomas stepped up to the small wooden stage, tapping a spoon against his glass to gather the crowd for the countdown. The room erupted in cheerful chatter, everyone moving closer to the massive spruce tree to welcome the holiday together.

‎Kat walked beside Harlan toward the front of the hall, letting him guide her gently through the crowd. The heat inside the room had grown thick, the air dense with the scent of burning candles and rich food.

‎Near the timber pillar by the punch bowl, Azriel stood perfectly motionless as people moved around him. He took a slow, heavy breath, his broad chest expanding beneath his dark blazer as his jaw tightened into a rigid line. He set his empty glass down on a side table with a quiet, solid thud, his posture stiff, closed off, and completely guarded. He didn't join the gathering around the stage. Instead, he turned his broad shoulders, walking toward the side exit that led out to the back porch.

‎Kat watched his dark silhouette disappear through the heavy oak door out of sheer habit, but she didn't linger on it. She kept her stride steady beside Harlan, joining in as Mayor Thomas began the loud, joyful countdown from ten.

‎"Happy Christmas, Kat," Harlan murmured softly as the room erupted into cheers at midnight, leaning in to place a gentle, sweet kiss on her cheek.

‎"Happy Christmas, Harlan," Kat smiled, her tone warm, genuine, and completely steady.

‎A few minutes later, as the crowd began to disperse toward the coat racks, Kat excused herself to step out onto the quiet side porch for a quick breath of fresh mountain air. The heat inside had left her cheeks flushed, and she wanted a moment of quiet before they made the drive back to the farm.

‎She pushed open the heavy timber door, stepping out into the freezing midnight draft.

‎The night air was razor-pure, crisp, and cold enough to instantly clear her head. Fine, glittery flakes of snow were falling through the dark sky, dusting the wooden railings of the porch. Kat walked over to the edge, leaning against a timber post, pulling her velvet shawl tightly over her shoulders as she looked out over the quiet, snow-covered valley.

‎A few feet away, standing near the top of the porch stairs in the dark shadows, was Azriel.

‎He was wearing his heavy canvas coat over his dark shirt, his cap pulled low. He stood with his hands jammed deep into his coat pockets, his tall frame outlined against the dark mountain night. His jaw was set in that familiar, hard, unyielding line, his posture as rigid as a granite wall.

‎Kat didn't flinch or step back. She simply stood her ground, her posture relaxed, calm, and completely unbothered.

‎"It's officially Christmas, Woodsman," Kat said smoothly, her clear, steady voice cutting through the quiet rustle of the wind.

‎Azriel didn't turn around immediately. He let out a slow breath, a thick cloud of white steam drifting into the freezing air before he gave a single, rigid tilt of his head. He didn't speak, offered no holiday greeting, and kept his face entirely shadowed and unreadable.

‎Kat offered a small, neutral smile, looking back out at the quiet falling snow. "Harlan and I are heading back soon. The roads look clear enough."

‎Azriel’s jaw flexed into a tight, sharp pulse beneath his dark stubble, but he remained completely silent, maintaining the impenetrable wall he had built around himself.

‎Kat took a slow, deep breath of the freezing air, feeling entirely satisfied with the peaceful, orderly life she was leading. She had no interest in chasing mysteries, and she certainly wasn't going to let herself be rattled by a silent woodsman standing in the dark.

‎"Goodnight, Azriel," Kat said softly, her voice light, polite, and completely composed.

‎She turned on her heel, pushed open the heavy oak door, and stepped back into the warm, golden light of the hall, walking back to Harlan with a steady heart and an unbothered mind.