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.