Page 9 of Kraved By Krampus

“At least take proper winter gear. The storm—”

“Is probably your doing, anyway.” I yank the door open, and the arctic wind whips my hair across my face.

I’d rather freeze than stay here another minute with him. With these feelings. With him talking about magic I never asked for.

The porch boards creak beneath my feet as I stumble into the storm. Snow stings my cheeks, and the wind steals my breath. Behind me, Krampus’s voice carries impossibly through the howling gale.

“Clara, stop!”

I plunge into the white void. The snow is already past my ankles, but I push forward. Each step takes me further from the warmth of the cabin, from his overwhelming presence, from the words I’m not ready to face.

The wind tears at my inadequate coat. My fingers go numb. But I keep moving, even as the cold seeps into my bones. Even as magic pulses beneath my skin, trying to warm me.

I won’t use it. I won’t accept this.

The trees are dark shadows in the white chaos. Which way leads to the road? Everything looks different in the storm. I take another step, and my boot breaks through a hidden drift.

Ice-cold snow pours over the top of my boot. I stumble, catching myself against a tree trunk. The rough bark scrapes my palms.

I can’t see the cabin’s lights anymore.

The wind howls louder, and something else howls with it. Something ancient. Something hungry.

This isn’t a natural storm.

And I’m not alone in it.

Chapter six

Clara

The wind slices through my coat, but I force myself forward.There has to be a town nearby. People. Normal, non-magical people who don’t make my heart race or magic spark.

Something moves in the darkness between the trees. I freeze, straining to see through the curtain of snow.Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.

A child’s cry pierces the storm.

My body moves before my brain catches up, stumbling toward the sound. Snow crunches under my boots as I weave between black tree trunks. The peaceful forest from earlier has transformed into something wild and threatening.

“Hello?” My voice is swept away by the wind. “Is someone there?”

Another cry, closer this time. Through the swirling white, I catch a glimpse of a small figure huddled against a fallen log.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll help you.” I wade through knee-deep snow, my muscles burning with cold and effort. “What are you doing out here alone?”

The child’s head snaps up. Not tears on their face—frost patterns spreading across their skin like delicate lace. Their eyes glow with an inner light that makes my chest tight with recognition.

Oh god.

“I can’t make it stop.” Their voice echoes strangely, layered with power. Snow swirls around them in tight spirals, responding to their distress. “The magic won’t listen.”

Magic around me surges in response, silver light spilling from my fingertips.No, not now.I shove it down, but the child’s eyes widen.

“You’re like Krampus!”

“I’m not—” The denial sticks in my throat as the magic reaches for me, wild and desperate for connection. The sensation is like touching a live wire.

The snow spirals faster, picking up speed. Tree branches creak and groan under the weight of supernatural ice. This isn’t just a lost child—it’s unrestrained magic about to lose control.

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