The Exiled Princess
Another shouted, “It is attacking. The decorations are alive.”
I shouted back, “I told you Christmas was dangerous.”
Garlands towered over us in fluffy, glittering mounds. A random wreath popped into existence and smacked Lucian in the face.
He sputtered. “Aveline.”
“This is not my fault,” I said quickly. “Earth holidays are cursed.”
The garlands continued multiplying.
Someone screamed, “Save yourselves.”
Another shouted, “Grab the Alpha.”
Another yelled, “Do not grab the Alpha, he will be furious, save someone else.”
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