Vixen mm mpreg holiday s.., p.1
Vixen: MM Mpreg Holiday Shifter Romance, page 1
VIXEN
MATED AT THE NORTH POLE
WENDY RATHBONE
CONTENTS
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Afterword
Bibliography
Wendy Rathbone’s Trope Cheat Sheet
Vixen: Mated at the North Pole, by Wendy Rathbone, copyright November 2023.
Title: Vixen: Mated at the North Pole.
Author: Wendy Rathbone.
Cover design: Doelle Designs.
Editor: NJ Torrance.
Published by: Eye Scry Publications.
Created with Vellum
For all my readers. Thank you!
Special Thanks To:
NJ Torrance
FOREWORD
ABOUT THIS BOOK
An all-star flying reindeer shifter. A shy but clever elf. One is overworked, the other excited to take on his new first job.
Coco:
This is the story of how I got stranded in a snowstorm at my boss’s house. And never left. (Did I mention my boss is a flying reindeer?)
Vixen:
This is the story of how I reluctantly went on a mandatory vacation and lied to Santa, all of which brought me the greatest love of my life.
Falling in love is not on their agenda, but love strikes when least expected. Can Coco and Vixen make things work in their personal lives while helping Santa have a low-stress, smooth delivery run on Christmas Eve?
Mpreg. Grumpy/sunshine. Age gap (22-40). A suspected alpha rut. An omega heat. A cool reindeer legend. Possibility of coal in a stocking. An adorable baby. Decorations, snow and roaring fireplaces. Steaming up those frosted windowpanes. HEA.
Vixen is the fourth book in the multi-author M/M Shifter Mpreg Christmas romance series Mated at the North Pole, featuring Santa’s reindeer who find their mates while on a mandatory vacation. There are ten books in the series. Why not read them all?
1
Vixen
The number of toys on the requisition forms weren’t adding up and I couldn’t figure out the mistake.
My vision blurred as I stared at the computer screen. I pressed my fingertips to the bridge of my nose. A dull headache threatened to become something worse. I needed my afternoon coffee. And I needed the noise in the main hall to simmer down.
By the end of September, in every Santa’s office, things got busier. And noisier.
I got up and shut my door. The noise level lowered.
During the summer, my assistant had moved on to another job. I had too much to do and not enough time to hire a new one. Finally, last week, I asked the main office to hire someone for me. They said they were also over-run and would get back to me soon.
I went to my sideboard and brewed a fresh cup of coffee in my special mug with antlers for handles. I added six sugar cubes the way I liked. Most flying reindeer shifters had a sweet tooth, and I was no exception.
Coffee in hand, I walked to my office window and looked out over Christmas Village. We’d gotten our first significant snow a week ago. The rooftops and surrounding land sparkled in the stark, afternoon light. Red and green elf-lights outlined every building and winked in every tree. All the streets and walkways were clear of snow. The elves made sure of that day to day.
Christmas Village was a wonder, but neither the sugary coffee nor the beauty of the early fall day did anything to alleviate my sour mood. All the extra workload for the next three months leading up to Christmas Day crowded in on my mind.
It also began to weigh on me that the excessive hall noise meant people were talking more than working which, for me as the boss, meant even more of a pile up. I could hear the yammering even through my closed door.
I stomped to my office door and flung it open hard enough that it hit the side wall with a bang. Groups of employees, some visiting with their families, including kids, all froze and looked straight at me.
“Quiet! Now!” Well, that sounded far too grumpy, even though I was. “Please,” I added, lowering my tone. “If you’re done with work for the day, go home. If not, get back to work.”
No one moved. No one replied. The kids, which were too often annoying at best, stared at me with wide, startled eyes. Like reindeer caught in the headlights, I thought, suppressing a snarky chuckle.
Just then, the elevator dinged. A young man walked out of the car. He had on a silvery overcoat with a white, faux fur collar. Black mittens dangled from the sleeve ends. His heavy black boots were still damp from the outside. His golden hair was slicked back from his forehead, gleaming over a sweet-cheeked face with berry-hued lips.
“Oh!” He jumped a little when he saw the crowd in the hall. “Did I interrupt something?”
My mouth went suddenly dry. My fingers began to curl. He was just about the prettiest little omega I’d ever seen. Possibly an elf, but I couldn’t be sure.
It had been a long time since I’d noticed anyone in any way based on something as shallow as looks. And an even longer time since I’d had any sort of personal life that wasn’t me alone rattling around my big house in the next village over.
No.
This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.
“Who are you?” I realized I’d asked the question as if I were some glorified interrogator, flinging my hand forward. Unfortunately, it was the hand holding my coffee and it sloshed out of my cup and onto the bright, white tile floor.
At that, people began to disperse, flinging me confused and startled looks. I had excellent hearing, and someone whispered, as they left, “It’s fall. The boss always gets this way in the fall.”
But instead of turning away, the man from the elevator jogged forward, setting aside his small backpack and kneeling before the largest coffee puddle. He produced a cloth handkerchief as if from thin air and wiped at the puddle as he gazed up at me.
“Hello, sir. You must be Mister Vixen. They told me to look for the one with the hair, um, well, they said it, not me. They said, ‘Look for the guy with the long black hair down to his ass.’ Um, that was them, sir, not me saying that.” On his hands and knees, he continued to scrub his now soaked hankie against the floor, looking all bundled up and adorable if one could be that while cleaning up spilled coffee.
“That doesn’t answer my question.” The headache expanded to now include the back of my neck.
He quickly stood. He was stunning. Like a fairy-elf. Though it would have insulted him if I’d said that out loud. Elves hated the word fairy.
“Oh, yes, sir. My name is Coco.” He shoved the wet hankie into his pocket and held out his hand. “I’ve been sent from the main office. I’m your new assistant. Sir.”
I didn’t take his hand. “My new assistant? It’s about time. I contacted the office for you weeks ago.”
“Uh, sorry, sir. I would have been here sooner, but they only hired me yesterday and there was a lot of paperwork to fill out and sign.”
“Not your fault.” That came out insincere to match my mood, though it was the truth. Coco had no control over who he would be assigned to, once hired. “Follow me.”
“Uh, sir, if you have a mop nearby, I can finish cleaning. It’ll just take me a minute.”
“No. I don’t. I’ll notify maintenance to send a janitor.”
“Oh. Right. Yes.”
Coco grabbed his backpack from the floor and followed me into my office. I motioned him into the plush, red leather chair facing my desk and walked around to my seat. Quickly, I sent a text to maintenance.
“There. That’s done.” I looked up to see he had taken off his coat. He had on a white shirt, black pants and red suspenders. He looked fresh and clean and too cute for words. He watched me carefully, his dark eyes full of concern.
“Your job here is not about cleanup,” I said. “We have staff for that. You’re here to assist me in my work. Sometimes I work late, especially this time of the year. Will that be a problem?”
“No, sir. I’m okay with extra hours.”
“You’ll be compensated for them.”
“That’s fine, sir. I’m just happy to be here. I’ve wanted to work in the Santa industry for a long time. And now, to find out I’m actually working with you, a famous flying reindeer shifter.” His cheeks widened. His smile was like the midnight sun. “It’s a dream come true.”
Hell’s jingle bells. This was not what I needed, a young, starstruck elf who might only be here for the bragging rights.
“What’s your experience?”
“Oh, they should have sent you my file.” He licked his berry lips and tilted his head, making my heart skip a beat. “I can send it to you.”
“No need. It’s probably in my backlogged email.”
“Sir, that’s what I’m here to help with. Any backlogs you have, things that need to be organized or that I can take care of without bothering you. I have a two-year admin degree and though I don’t have a lot of racked up years of experience, I did a six-month administrative internship at the toy factory. Mostly paperwork. Very boring. But they did like me and wanted to hire me permanently. Instead, I applied at the Santa Consortium Main Office. And now, here I am.” He held out his arms. “I love this place. I’m so happy to be here.”
I cleared my throat, toying with my now almost empty coffee cup. Hmm, how to put this delicately. But, no, I wasn’t in a delicate sort of state at the moment. “Fine. We’ll try it out. One month. If we work well together, I’ll notify the office that you’re to be instated as permanent.”
“Yes, sir. I knew there would be a probationary period. I’m ready to show you what I can do and get to work!” His eyes were actually gold, and they sparkled. He stood up. “I can see right now, sir, that you are in need of more coffee. May I get you a fresh cup?” He held out his hand toward my antler mug.
Numbly, I held out my cup. He took it and went to my sideboard. In a minute, he called out, “Sugar, am I right? And a lot of it?”
“Yes. Six cubes.”
“Coming right up.”
My last assistant often admonished me for my sugar habit. He had been efficient, but we weren’t friends. We tolerated each other. But Coco didn’t even flinch when I told him how many cubes to put into the drink.
When he came back to hand me my mug, there was a little candy cane sticking out of it. “Is this okay?” he asked.
Steam rose from the brown liquid. It smelled like Christmas had already arrived. I couldn’t find a thing to critique about his first task.
“Perfect.” My voice came out as a whisper.
2
Coco
Wow, if anyone had told me the Vixen who led Santa 25’s sleigh every year was so handsome in person, I would’ve been super nervous to meet him, let alone work for him.
Now, here I was in the offices of Santa 25, assistant to the most amazing boss ever… I hoped.
That hair. It literally cascaded in a river of black down his back to touch his ass. With his chiseled jawline and cheekbones, and intense brown eyes, I was even more impressed.
Mister Vixen seemed a little grumpy, but I could tell right away that he was overworked and stressed. He’d been without an assistant for too long, and now was the time of year when the pressure began to build toward Christmas Day. I could very well understand that. Everyone in Christmas Village felt it.
Well, I was here to help.
At the toy factory where I interned, elves sometimes became so stressed in autumn, they actually changed the schedule to include two extra breaks a day, which meant you had to take fifteen minutes for every hour and a half you worked. If you didn’t take your extra breaks, you were severely admonished. Surprisingly, work output increased, and morale greatly improved.
There was a little office off Mister Vixen’s big one that was to be all mine. I’d never had my own office before. It was so exciting with my own desk and chair, a computer with a huge screen and a little window overlooking Christmas Village. He told me I could decorate it if I wanted. Elves were all about decoration, so of course I said yes.
Even better, his office had a huge private bath decorated all in gold and silver, with white elf-lights around the mirror. It even had a shower. Mister Vixen told me I was allowed to use it, but that no one else was. I felt almost guilty for my bounty. I’d gone from the offer of a boring cubicle job tracking requisitions at the toy factory to this. Win-win.
I couldn’t wait to get started.
Mister Vixen gave me a passcode sheet and said to help myself to coffee.
“Pull up all the stuff on that list,” he said, “and take a look. When you have questions, type them up in a list. When you’re done, send the list and we’ll discuss.”
“Yes, sir.” I was nervous about getting myself coffee, since the coffee maker was in his office, but he went to his desk and became immersed in his work, so I quietly made myself a cup, borrowing a cute Santa mug, then went to my own new office.
I wasn’t sure if I should keep the door ajar or closed. I ended up deciding ajar was the best so I could hear if he needed me. Of course, he could text me or email me and I’d see it immediately, but ajar was me being polite.
I spent the day familiarizing myself with Mister Vixen’s accounts. It felt great. I made notes of questions. At the end of the day, we had a short meeting that went well. My only disappointment was that he barely looked at me as we spoke, and the day ended too soon.
I took the bus home to my village on the outskirts of Christmas Village. As the sun lowered, streaking the sky orange and pink, I entered my tiny apartment, plopped on my couch and began to text my friends about my first day at work.
Everyone was happy for me that I’d gotten the job I’d wanted. They kept asking me for details about Vixen and what it was like to work for someone so famous. I kept my responses vague, saying, “Yes, he’s gorgeous,” and “Yes, he seems like a decent boss.” I said nothing about his grumpiness, or the fact that the moment I’d met him I somehow seemed to slide back to teen-hood with the jittery feelings of a very unprofessional crush. It was embarrassing. To say the least.
My friends invited me out to dinner, but I decided I wanted to stay home and prepare for my next day of work. Mister Vixen had said there might be overtime and I wanted to be well-rested and there for him for whatever he needed.
I made myself toast and soup, my favorite supper for when the nights grew colder, and lazily watched a movie. Early to bed ensured I would be at top form in the morning.
But then, of course, I tossed and turned all night, my mind filled with images of Vixen and questions I had no answers to. Would I get to be there on Christmas Eve to see him fly? Did he have a boyfriend? What did his house look like? Was he close to his family? Did he like six sugars in his iced tea like he did in his coffee?
I kept seeing him all stern and upset when I first came out of the elevator onto his floor. Was there more I could do to help him that I didn’t know about? And how would I find out what those things might be?
My mind wouldn’t rest.
By the time I finally fell asleep, it seemed like seconds before my phone alarm chimed its gentle tune to wake me up.
My eyelids felt like sandpaper. My throat was all dry and crackly.
I jumped up, hoping a steaming shower would get me awake and moving.
When I looked out the window, I saw it had snowed in the night. The plows had already come, leaving the avenues shining like black ribbons with outlines of white snow ruffles.
I dressed, grabbed my overcoat—one of my prized possessions—and caught the early bus to work. When I got there, Mister Vixen was already at his desk as if he’d never left. I quickly checked the Santa clock over my doorway. Nope, not late.
“You’re here early,” I said, hanging my coat on the hook by the entryway.
“I have to be. Everything starts to pile up between now and Christmas.”
“I’m here to help.” A tingle went through my chest. This was such a privilege. I got to help the Vixen prepare everything for Christmas.
I dashed to my desk and never came up for air until hours later when I realized I was missing lunch.
I’d studied hard to familiarize myself with his accounts. I’d fielded emails immediately as they came in, organizing them all from most important to least. Anything with attachments I downloaded into a different file, going over them and again putting them in a timely order.
When I came to the toy requisitions requests, which he’d sent me files for and asked me to figure out why they were not adding up to what he’d requested, I was in my element. I’d organized requisitions at the workshop. I understood them well.
I discovered Mister Vixen had received paperwork he thought was filled, but the fine print said it was only half-filled. The files were a mess. He had ended up double and triple ordering.
