I came here to write about Christmas reindeer games—
not to get wrecked by a gorgeous, antlered man in the middle of a blizzard.

One minute I’m grumbling my way to some tiny northern town for a fluffy holiday assignment.
The next, I’m crashing my Jeep into a snowbank because a gigantic reindeer with glowing gold eyes decided to play chicken with me.

Except the reindeer turns into a naked, muscle-stacked man steaming in the snow, calls himself Dasher, and insists I’m his fated mate—the one woman who can break his curse.

I should be running.
Instead, I’m stuck in his cabin with a storm outside…
and a feral, devoted, ridiculously hot shifter inside who looks at me like I’m the only miracle he’s ever believed in.

And when the blizzard gets worse?
Let’s just say “body heat” becomes a very literal survival technique.

Now I’m fighting off shadow creatures, trying to ignore the electric pull between us, and pretending I don’t notice the way he growls “mine” like he means it.

He swears I’m his Christmas miracle.
I swear I’m losing my mind.
But when he whispers that he wants to give me the ride of my life—
and then actually takes me flying under the aurora—
I start thinking there might be a little truth to this whole reindeer magic thing.

Because this Christmas?
I just might get claimed, chased, and thoroughly ruined…
by the man who used to pull Santa’s sleigh.