Page 23 of Hunted in Holly

“My warning?” I was too stunned to process any of this quickly.

“The rumors about my weaknesses have been very carefully distributed,” He said as he patted his chest right over his heart. “When you tried to stake me through the heart, I knew exactly whose hell hole I needed to raid.”

“No it couldn’t have been him.” So why did my soul believe him? Was that some twisted form of Stockholm syndrome?

“Is that right?” Nicholas’ low chuckle only served to make me question myself more. He paced over to the demon and he knelt to rifle through a small bag on his waist. The monster was lax in his restraints, as though tranquilized, but he still growled under his breath as Nicholastook something from his stash.

The Saint tossed me a small object that shone green under the flickering torchlight of his dungeon. I caught the piece, and I opened my hand to see an emerald gemstone. The same stone that had been secured in my mother’s royal necklace, now marred by fire and blood.

“But… But I saw…” What had I seen? Had I been manipulated and lied to this entire time? It was true that I hadn’t seen Nicholas personally start the fire, but I saw one of his soldiers, still dressed in uniform.

I just assumed that it must have been by his command.

“You saw this man.” He walked from the cell, then he came back with a body bag. He threw down the heavy black sack with a thud, then nodded for me to open it. This was certainly turning into quite the Christmas morning.

I hesitated, but only for a moment. To be honest, I needed this confirmation now more than ever. Iwantedto be wrong, because I needed Nicholas to be innocent, for his sake and my own.

I unwrapped the corpse like he was a gift, then I stared into the hollow, lifeless eyes of the very elf who had lit my kingdom aflame.

“It turned out,” Nicholas began, “that one of my own men had hatched a plan with this lesser demon to take both of our kingdoms. He tried to coordinate an attack here shortly after the assault on both the South and the Equator. I dealt with him swiftly, but Krampus here still wanted a shot at me. Which was why he sentyou.”

Still dumbfounded, I met his eyes. “He didn’t… I came here of my own volition.” I spoke more for myself than him at this point.

Nicholas shook his head. “I bet you heard his voice in your head, telling you to kill me, yes?”

“I did.” I admitted, while at a total loss, trying to make heads or tails of any and all of this. This demon was using me? He’d helped me hatch this plan. He’d told me how to kill the Saint. He made me his pawn and I’d let him. “But it stopped speaking to me after that incident.”

“What a crazy coincidence.” Nicholas rolled his eyes playfully. “I hunted him down while you were resting after our first little encounter. Anyone who harmed you was going to die, but anyone who dared try to manipulate and control you deserves a fate worse than death.”

Nicholas’ words struck something in my heart that shouldn’t be there. Not for him.

“Now, Caroline,” he continued, “if you would do the honors.” The Saint tilted his chin towards Krampus, who was completely immobilized in those chains. “I’ve sedated him heavily. He won’t fight back. An ice blade through the heart will do for this one. For real this time.” He winked like it was a fun inside joke.

The fact that I accidentally and involuntarily laughed was a testament to how truly fucked up I’d become.

And yet, when I looked at that demon on the wall, at the gemstone in my hand, and at the dead man at my feet, I knew what Nicholas was saying was true.

So I took one step forward, I conjured my sharpest icicle, and I took the gift that my new king had given me.

No questions. Just trust.

Blind, stupid,naïve, perfect, violent trust.

One shot through the heart, then ten more stabs for good measure, and the beast was dead.

A lightness filled my chest. The type of magical comfort that only came from having truly accomplished my mission. I relaxed as I stared into the empty eyes that would never harm anyone I cared about ever again.

Nicholas placed a hand on my shoulder, and he squeezed it affectionately.

“Now that the rehearsal dinner is out of the way, I believe you have a wedding to attend.” He pressed a kiss to my temple, then one more to each of my cheeks, pecking away the tears that had at some point started flowing freely.

Without warning or another word, he knelt down, scooped me up, and like the queen I was, he carried me back upstairs.

There, in a large hallway, both of us dressed in the finest clothing of both redandgreen, the untouchable Saint Nicholas made me his bride on that bloody, thrilling Christmas in the North Pole.

The End (And Happy Holidays!)

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