Later, once all the shopping was done, they stood on bridge arcing over the river. Cain had bought them mulled wine and he held both cups while Ella devoured the mince pies from the little Christmas market, the crumbs drifting down to the water as she leant on the railing. Beneath them, the river reflected the will-o-wisp lanterns strung through the colonnades of the bridge. The crowds had begun to fade away now, quiet and peace descending on the streets, and the scent of winter spices and toffee apples tickled the air.

The perfect way to end the perfect day with her.

When she’d finished the last of her mince pie, Ella brushed off her hands and tugged her fingerless gloves back on. She clenched her fists around her fingers, touched red by the cold. If only he could take them in his and put some warmth back into them.

Ella looked up at him and bared her teeth. “Do I have food on my face?”

Cain shook his head and handed over her cup of wine. That should warm her hands at least. “You’re food-less.”

“A terrible state of existence.”

“Are you still hungry? I can—”

Giggling, Ella flicked his arm. “Stop worrying so much, Kitty. I never ever imagined you’d buy me mince pies then get that look on your face like I’m a starving orphan.”

Did she mean up until right now? Or when she first met him? The latter, hopefully. Cain wrapped both hands around his cup and stared out at the glimmering lights lining the riverbanks. So peaceful.

It was the first Christmas since the apocalypse, and that made it his first Christmas he’d ever shared with anyone. Ella was right – it was his favourite time of year – but it had only been such for the peace of dark nights curled up with a book and a reading lamp, or the cold in the air that made him forget that the ice in his veins wasn’t from the weather. For the beauty of the touch of death in the landscape and the crisp white of the snow. Not for this magic he’d found tonight with her – the lights and the life and the warmth in such a cold time of year.

“I never realised Christmas could be so wonderful.”

“What do you mean?”

Cain shrugged, not looking at her. “I’ve never really done Christmas before.” Not even in childhood. Truly a starving orphan where Christmas was nothing but well-wishes from the cold spiritual touch of the lord. “I’ve never really felt part of all of this”—he waved his hand to encompass the spread of lights before them— “all this warmth.”

There was a rustle of cloth as she shifted, and he felt the warmth of her closer to his shoulder. “How come?”

Cain glanced down at her with a wry smile, his breath catching as he caught her eyes, so huge and shining with curiosity. “Starving orphan, Ella. You made me dreadfully melancholy now.”

Her eyes widened, face dropping a touch. “Oh, I’m—”

“Don’t be sorry.” Cain nudged her with his elbow. “I’m not serious.”

Ella nodded, slow and careful, and she held his eyes with searching intensity. Enough that Cain regretted mentioning it at all. Had he managed to bring the mood down that easily? Just before he summoned up something to say to distract her, she spoke, her eyes slipping away from his to the river.

“Six and I never did Christmas either.”

Yes, he had guessed. All six of them were without family now, but Ella and Levi had been the same as him – no choice in the matter since the beginning. But he didn’t speak, he kept his eyes steady on the sharp profile of her face to hear the story. To hear anything that gave him a new glimpse of her.

“But the first time after we—after we … moved on, Six did the whole works for me – lights and presents and a tree and this—” Ella broke off, giggling as a nostalgic smile spread across her lips. “He cooked us the worst Christmas dinner ever. It was so horrible, but it was such an amazing time and I fell in love with it after that – with all of this.”

Now she looked up at him, a bright smile on her face, and she tilted her head like little bird. It went so adorably well with the thick puffer jacket and bobble hat she wore that for a good spell, he couldn’t breathe. “I’m going to give him the whole works now. All the lights and the mistletoe and a huge tree, and I’ll make him a proper Christmas dinner that doesn’t taste of boiled sludge. I want to make it magical.”

She would. Cain had no doubt. Although, he thought that just as it was for him, it would be magical for Levi simply because it came from her.