After the children’s choir finished to much cheering and applause, the mayor of Christmas Valley climbed the dais to open the annual dragon auction.

“Everything handcrafted here in the town by our children, ladies and gentlemen,” he said merrily. “And in case you don’t know our traditions, let me assure you that there’s no better luck than celebrating with one of our dragons on your tree!”

“Look at that,” Angel said in delight when a woman entered the stage to stand next to the mayor.

She was holding a selection of dragon decorations on a plate. The dragons were adorable. Most of them had obviously been crafted by young children, with a few more elaborate ones from a teenager or a secret, adult helper.

But without a fault, every single dragon the mayor now displayed was a work of art. Even the ones decorated with crooked lines of color or glued-on glitter that had landed in the wrong spots.

Especially those. She couldn’t help but think of the tiny girl in the bunny hat. Had they crafted their dragons at school, or had the little girl’s parents helped her at home?

Either way, it was an adorable tradition.

She’d thought that she’d be okay with spending the holidays away from her family. She was too old for the Christmas magic of her childhood anyway.

But now she found herself longing for a place where she could start Christmas traditions of her own.

There was so much love all around her. Everyone here seemed to know each other. She wouldn’t be surprised if the mayor and his helper had crafted dragon decorations for the annual auction as well, many years ago when they were children.

This seemed like the sort of place where people kept traditions alive. And where people still believed in the magic of Christmas—not for the tourists who came visiting Snow Castle, but for their own families. A gift they seemed only too happy to share with the strangers among them.

“If you’re looking for something special,” said a white-haired woman in a purple scarf long enough to wrap her entire body in, “wait for the last set of dragons. My Crystal made a few with her older siblings that turned out beautiful. And as we have only the one tree, we only get one every year.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Angel said, smiling at the woman. “That sounds promising.”

In front of them, the bidding had started. There were a lot of dragons to auction off—but it seemed that every family in Snow Valley was determined to take home a dragon of their own.

Within minutes, the woman’s plate of dragons was empty, and a second set was brought on stage.

“Oh, look at that, my nephew Thomas has made a fire dragon for us this year.” The mayor held up a dragon that had glittering red beads glued to its body.

“Roar!” a boy in the front row shouted.

The mayor chuckled. “Anything special about this dragon you want to tell us, Thomas?”

“He can breathe fire, so he doesn’t ever have to shovel snow in the morning like Dad has to,” the boy said proudly.

“A very useful talent for a dragon to have!” Still chuckling, the mayor held the tiny, red dragon up. “Any bids for this proud and useful fire dragon?”

“Ten thousand,” someone next to Angel shouted.

When she turned around with a shocked expression, she saw that Henrik and Dara had arrived.

It was Dara who had shouted the incredible number, while Henrik held his arm up to catch the eye of the mayor.

“Ten thousand from Snow Castle! A good choice for your tree this year,” the mayor proclaimed. “Any other bids? No? Then in three, two, one...sold to Snow Castle! Congratulations!”

“Do the dragons always go for so much?” Angel whispered, stunned.

Henrik shook his head. “It’s tradition,” he whispered back. “Dragons hate parting with their hoard, but by exchanging it for a dragon decoration, my dragon is happy and I get to contribute to our yearly charity project. That way, everyone wins.”

“And we get another gorgeous dragon for our tree.” Dara winked at Angel. “If you’re thinking of starting a tradition of your own, it’s good luck to have a dragon on your tree. And the others will go for a lot less.”

The woman next to her nodded in agreement. “No home without a little dragon on the tree around here. The dragons have cared for us over the years, and in return, we take good care of them and their secrets.”

“I love how much into these dragons the people in this town are,” a nearby woman in her twenties said enthusiastically. “Don’t you think it’s adorable, Robert?”

Robert grunted something monosyllabic in response. Angel had to bite back a smile.

It seemed it wasn’t all that difficult to keep the secrets of the local dragon shifter family when most tourists were all too ready to believe that it was simply an adorable local custom with made-up legends.

She hadn’t seen much of Christmas Valley yet—but what she’d seen, she’d fallen in love with.

People who knew each other, who were there for each other, family or not. People like her, who lived in harmony with shifters like Jonathan. And everyone here seemed to adore Henrik and Dara, who in turn seemed to love the small town just as much as their own Snow Castle.

She’d never seen a place like this before. And for all she knew, it was unique in the world, and there was no way that she and Jonathan would ever find a place of their own, just like this.

But she wanted to try. She wanted Jonathan to realize that no matter what the weird rules of dragon society said, he was a good man—a dragon any town would be happy to claim as their own lucky dragon.

And though she couldn’t quite see herself running a winter resort of her own, it seemed that the old dream of leading children through a museum hadn’t quite died yet.

There’d been no job for her no matter where she’d applied to, no.

Still. Maybe she didn’t have to give up her dreams. Maybe she could find a job in a museum gift shop.

She’d seen the way Dara and Henrik took care of their youngest guests, the way they’d carefully tailored their activities so that not a single child was left out. Every child at the Snow Castle seemed to have the time of their life, no matter if they preferred the snow ball fights outside or the story time with cookies and hot chocolate by the fireplace.

Angel suddenly recognized that she didn’t want to waste her life programming, trapped in front of a screen all day, no matter how well-paid those IT jobs were.

Realizing that Jonathan had been trapped in the ice for ten years had shaken something in her awake. She wasn’t going to do what he’d done. She wasn’t going to get trapped herself.

Now that they’d found each other, it felt as if anything was possible.

And even if she never got the job of her dreams, surely there’d be something out there that would make her happy. Something that made her feel that she’d achieved something at the end of the day.

Even if it wasn’t a cushy IT job.

“There they come,” the old woman said in excitement, then started clapping when a young girl brought another assortment of dragons to the mayor.

Angel felt a smile tugging at her lips. She recognized the little girl—she was wearing the fluffy bunny hat she’d admired earlier.

Now she gave them a gap-toothed smile when the mayor took hold of the dragons.

“Grandma! Look!” she said, waving excitedly.

“We’re not done yet,” the mayor said, “but we’re slowly coming to the end of the auction. So if you don’t have a dragon yet, don’t wait too long!”

One after the other, a gorgeous dragon with wings made to look like those of a butterfly, a dragon made out of golden wire and colorful paper, and a dragon who carried a little felt cat on his back were all auctioned off.

Angel held back. She’d caught a glimpse of something when the mayor had first taken hold of the assortment of dragons, and she’d been straining for another good look at it.

“And here’s another masterwork from our little Crystal, with almost no help from her older siblings.” The mayor chuckled. “A beautiful white dragon—an ice dragon, I believe, with sparkly crystals. Look at how it glitters in the light!”

He held the dragon up. Angel gasped when the light hit its wings.

Bits of crystal and pearls had been glued to it. And although it was obviously the work of a small child, something about the way the crystal reflected the light made her think of that moment she’d nearly forgotten.

The moment she’d stumbled into the arms of an ice dragon, nearly frozen to death.

She raised her arm almost immediately, the girl’s grandmother turning around to give her an approving look.

“That’s my favorite dragon out of the lot,” the woman whispered, “but don’t tell Crystal. I promised her I’d buy her pink, sparkly unicorn dragon.”

From the other side of the crowd, someone else was bidding against her. But with Angel’s next bid, the man’s arm came down, and he grinned at her, clearly giving up.

“Don’t mind him,” Crystal’s grandma said, winking at Angel. “That’s how it goes here. They can’t help driving up the price a little bit.”

“It’s for charity, after all. I don’t mind.” Angel smiled, keeping her eyes eagerly on the mayor, who was surveying the crowd.

“No other bids?” he called out. “Going once, going twice...and sold to one of our guests over there!”

“I won!” Beaming, Angel hugged Jonathan.

Together, they walked over to the side of the little platform where the mayor’s assistant was waving at them. A short while later, Angel found herself the proud owner of her own tiny little ice dragon, lovingly wrapped and packed into a small box.

“Now it really feels like Christmas.” She’d thought that she was too old to get excited over presents and Christmas surprises—but as soon as she’d seen the tiny ice dragon, she knew that it had been made for her.

For them.

She leaned against Jonathan, smiling up at him. “Sorry I didn’t ask you, but that was too perfect.”

Jonathan laughed. “Like I’d have said no. I’m glad you didn’t have your heart set on Dara’s fire dragon though.”

From across the assistant’s desk, Dara laughed. “I had my heart set on a red theme for our tree this year, but every year it’s the same.”

Henrik grinned. “We start opening the boxes with Christmas decorations, and a few hours later, the red theme has turned into a red and blue and gold theme. Including ‘oh, look, those silver baubles that grandma loved’ and ‘aww, let’s add those little straw decorations the kids gave you as a gift.’”

“He’s not wrong,” Dara admitted, still laughing. “But in the end, those are the best Christmas trees.”

“They are,” Angel said softly, feeling perfectly content as she leaned against Jonathan.

She could already see a tree of their own in her mind, decorated all over with sparkly silver baubles, glittering glass icicles and crystal stars.

And she didn’t doubt for a second that she’d end up with just the same sort of tree Dara and Henrik did—the elaborate color scheme forgotten as soon as she discovered forgotten treasures and adorable, imperfect decorations crafted by tiny hands.

Those really were the best Christmas trees. Real trees, full of memories.

And they’d just found their first beautiful memory to start their own tradition.