Morgan's PoV
In my world, 'magic' is a force as raw and untamed as the storm outside, yet here, within these walls, it's something else entirely. It's the laughter of a woman undaunted by the darkness, the rustle of a dog's collar adorned with tinsel, the shared warmth between two solitary souls seeking refuge from the cold.
"Maybe I do," I admit finally, the admission tasting strange yet sweet upon my tongue.
"Good," Melanie smiles and winks at me, "because there's plenty more magic where that came from."
And as her laughter fills the space once more, intertwining with the howl of the wind and the crackle of the fire, I find myself believing her.
"Look at that," Melanie breathes out once the box was completely empty and stepping back to admire our handiwork. "It's like we
