December 13, 2025

They said if you kissed under the mistletoe at midnight on the thirteenth day of December, your heart’s desire would come to you before Christmas Eve.

Isla didn’t believe in that kind of thing. She didn’t believe in much anymore—not since her mother passed, not since the frost had turned their old family farmhouse into a tomb of unopened rooms and fading light. But she went to the Yule market anyway, her coat tight, scarf wrapped to her ears, looking for something—anything—that would remind her of warmth.

That’s where she found it. An old woman with wind-chapped cheeks and silver eyes held out a bundle of mistletoe tied with red thread.

“This one’s ripe,” the woman rasped. “Plucked on a blood moon. Hang it in a doorway. Midnight. Don’t flinch when it chooses.”

“Chooses what?”

But the woman had already turned to serve someone else.

Isla hung the mistletoe in her foyer, right above the lintel of the door that creaked in winter winds. At midnight, the bells of St. Elba’s tolled through the frost-heavy air. She stood beneath the sprig, alone, heart a little cracked, breath steaming in the quiet.

And something kissed her.

It wasn’t warm. It was colder than breath on a windowpane, but it pressed to her lips like memory and longing all at once. She staggered, dizzy, heart racing, mouth tingling.

That night she dreamed of a man with snow in his hair and antlers on his brow. His smile made her teeth ache with desire and dread. He called her his solstice bride.

In the mornings that followed, Isla changed. She smiled more, but her eyes were hollow. She spoke softer, but her voice carried an echo. By the fourth day, she no longer cast a shadow.

When friends visited, they found the mistletoe blackened and dripping. Isla greeted them in a red gown spun with ice. She said she was waiting for him to return. For the one who kissed her. For the one who chose her.

By Yule, she was gone. The mistletoe, too.

They say every thirteen years, on the thirteenth of December, a new bride is kissed under the same sprig.

And chosen.