As a young stag-shifter, all Pembroke dreams of is being harnessed to Santa’s sleigh. Yet his world comes crashing down when Santa is slain by the imposter Frost.<br><br>War erupts in the Arctic Circle, pitting elf against reindeer, and Pembroke is sent on a perilous mission. If he fails, his herd will be lost. When the mission goes awry, the stag-shifter must put his trust in an unlikely ally.<br><br>Where does one turn in a land of ice and blood? What happens when the enemy infiltrates your heart? What begins as a wavering alliance just might take Pembroke farther than he ever imagined.

Sugar Plum'd

To Pembroke they looked like two plums to puncture.


He wanted to tear them open like his teeth did to the plums.


Tearing at the ruffles and scratching at the icy dendrites and chains. He was just warming up. Scare the creature so that its blood rushes around. And once stabbed, a gush of its dust-laced blood would fountain out like a hot spring.


He pressed the tips of his antlers against the goosepimpled skin, toying with shredding the elf muscles beneath. So fragile the elf looked, splayed out. Helpless. Nowhere near as strong as a reindeer. Nowhere near possessing the majesty of the Slain. No elf could dream of doing what the Toy-Maker achieved.


Pembroke brought his crown of horns to the elf’s ruffled throat.


The room erupted with the sound of a pod of barking walruses. The tusked militia of Frost slid towards the bed.


There was no way Pembroke could beat all of them.


Chapter 11