Page 44 of Kraved By Krampus

“Has run smoothly for centuries. It can wait a little longer.” He gestures to the chair I’ve just vacated. “Sit. Talk to me.”

The fire crackles merrily in the hearth, its heat a contrast to the ice in my veins. Everything about his study seems to mock me with its warmth—from the well-worn leather volumes of children’s stories to the perpetually steaming pot of hot chocolate on his desk. Even the air smells of nutmeg and peppermint.

I remain standing. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

Nicholas raises one silver eyebrow, reminding me why he’s been such an effective diplomat between the magical realms. “The temperature in my study suggests otherwise.”

Stubborn old saint.I cross my arms, my shadow stretching impossibly large across his wall of achievement plaques and thank-you letters from children. “Your concern is noted. And unnecessary.”

“Ah yes, because you’re handling everything so well on your own.” He picks up a gingerbread cookie from the ever-full plate beside him. “That’s why you’re here, seeking my counsel while pretending not to.”

A low growl escapes me. The shadows writhe, and several of his precious ornaments rattle on their shelves. But Nicholas just continues dunking his cookie in his hot chocolate, unperturbed by my display. He’s known me too long to be intimidated.

“I don’t need—”

“To talk about how she hurt you?” His voice softens. “Or how you’re afraid she might be right to reject what you’ve done?”

The words hit like a physical blow. Ice spreads across the floor from where I stand, creeping toward his bookshelves.She didn’t reject what I’ve done. She rejected who I am.

With a huff that sends frost spiraling across the windows, I drop back into the chair. The leather creaks beneath my weight, and I resist the urge to shred the armrests with my claws.

Nicholas’s laughter rings through the study. “And you wonder why we’re so good at handling difficult children? You’re displaying all the classic signs.” He waves his cookie at me. “Pouting included.”

I do not pout.The shadows curl defensively around my feet.

“You know, her mother was just as stubborn.” Nicholas’s eyes grow distant, focused on memories. “Elizabeth had that same fire, that same raw talent. She came to me first, you remember? Terrified of what she could do with her magic.”

My chest tightens at the mention of Elizabeth. “I remember.”

“Elizabeth came to me scared of hurting those around her. Her magic was... unpredictable.” Nicholas sets his cookie down, brushing crumbs from his red robes. “Much like her daughter’s is becoming.”

The shadows around my feet twist into abstract patterns. “Elizabeth knew what she was. Clara remains unaware.”

“By design, my friend. By her mother’s design.” He reaches for an ornate silver box on his desk, opening it to reveal a collection of letters. “Elizabeth wrote to me often after that first visit. Her greatest fear wasn’t her own magic—it was what Clara’s would become.”

My claws dig into the leather armrests, restraint be damned. “What do you mean?”

Nicholas extracts a yellowed envelope, its edges worn soft with time. “She had visions of Clara’s power. Saw what she would become. The magic in her bloodline grows stronger with each generation. She knew what would happen if certain parties discovered her daughter’s potential. She never told me who Clara’s father was, but I have my suspicions.”

Ice crystals form in the air around us as understanding dawns. “That’s why she never told her daughter. She was protecting her.”

“From herself, yes. But more importantly...” He taps the letter against his palm, his usually jovial expression turning serious. “From those who would use her power for their own ends. Elizabeth knew Clara would need time to grow into her strength naturally. To develop the wisdom to wield it.”

The temperature in the room plummets further as fury builds in my chest. “Like how Victoria used her with that damn contract.”

“Precisely.” Nicholas waves his hand, and the fire roars higher to combat my chill. “Elizabeth knew there would be others who would sense Clara’s potential. She wanted her daughter to have a normal life until she was ready—until she had someone who could protect her while she came into her power.”

My horns catch the firelight as I lean forward. “You knew. All this time, you knew what Clara was.”

“I made a promise to Elizabeth.” He carefully returns the letter to its box. “To watch over her daughter from afar and shield her as best I could until the right moment—until she found her way to you.”

The shadows around me freeze in place. “Me?”

“Elizabeth’s last vision before she disappeared showed Clara with you. She saw you teaching her daughter to embrace both light and shadow.” A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Though I doubt she foresaw quite how literal that embrace would become.”

I growl at his attempt at humor, but my mind races with implications.Elizabeth saw us together. She knew...

“Which is why,” Nicholas continues, reaching for another cookie, “you need to stop hiding in my study and go back to her. Elizabeth trusted you would be the one to guide Clara through this transition. To show her that power—even dark power—isn’t something to fear when wielded with wisdom and love.”

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