Page 31 of The Krampus' Queen
Gasping, I dash for the center of the room to confront this intruder. I hold the robe tighter to keep myself warm should a wall or roof cave in. Another knock shakes the room until wax streaks down the wall off of the sconces.
A sea of white appears through a rising gap that becomes a doorway. Holding a hand over my eyes, I blink through the snowy darkness as a figure steps into view. His sack strikes the floor and he shakes back the snow.
“Ho, it is so-o-o col—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish as I wrap myself around him. The snow iced to his fur bites at my skin, but I hug him tighter, melting it with my heat. Krampus drapes an arm around my back and bends over until his horns caress my head.
“I didn’t expect you to be awake,” he says. “I’d hoped to surprise you come morning.”
That sounds sweet. I fight off a rash of happy tears and cry out, “Where were you? You said a week! It’s been—”
“I know.” He takes my hand, then the mighty Krampus drops to his knees. I try to wipe off my eyes before he’s staring into them. “I am sorry, my doe.” Cupping my cheek, he traces down the tear that escaped.
“I missed you,” I blubber.
His pained look softens to a smile. “And I you. I’m afraid the market was not what I expected. Almost all of the shops are inside buildings now. When did that occur?”
I laugh, wondering when was the last time he took a trip down the mountain. “I dunno, in the nineties?”
“Oh, no. They were quite open and easy to visit in the nine hundreds. Even with the new millennium, I could still use a robe and hood to make my purchases.”
“The nineteen nineties, not…” I thud my hand against his chest. It’s supposed to be playful, but my fingers brush over his fur. Without thinking, they clench onto it and I pull myself to him.
Kissing with a fire that’s been stoked for twelve days, I smear the last of my tears on his cheeks. His hands swoop up my body, conveniently prying open the robe, before he cups the nape of my neck.
“I missed you,” he says. “Here.” He points to his head. “And here.” He lays his hand on his chest just beside mine. I try to unknot my fingers from his fur, but it’s hard to let go. By some miracle, I manage, and Krampus rises up onto his hooves.
He begins to fuss with his sack which is hopefully full of goodies to make this all worth it. “As the nights grew longer, I feared that I would return and find you—”
“Never.” I dig into his biceps and he smiles at me.
“Then…” Krampus sweeps a hand around my waist. With ease, he plucks me up until I’m resting in his arms. “Shall we adjourn to bed?”
Fuck yes. Do you have any idea what smelling you next to me every night but not touching you has done to my brain? I’ll probably come from just sitting on your thigh.
God that sounds good.
I run my palm down his horn watching his eyes roll back at the touch. Just before I reach the velvet part, I glance down.
“Or you could tell me what you got that’s kept you away so long?”
His pant fades and he smiles. Even while holding me, he bends over to the sack. “You know patience is…”
Using his horn, I yank myself up until I can whisper in his pointed ear, “Then we can fuck on the staircase.”
“Patience is highly overrated,” he declares and dumps his goodies across the floor. Before I look, I kiss him as hard as every night without him has been.
CHAPTER 14
“WOO!” MY LIFE flashes in time with the snow pelting my cheeks. I’m too euphoric to feel the bite as the little sled leaps off of the ground. Clinging to the rope for dear life with my mittens, I face the upcoming drop without a touch of dread. In this eternal winter wonderland, I can’t tell where the ground begins until I’ve already hit it.
The sled skids, the runners weaving me back and forth as I race down the slope. On an outcropping above me, a family of deer watches the human-turned-sausage in all the winter gear Krampus could find. I give another whoop and they scatter. The sled hits a flat point across the field and begins to slow. Blinking away the frost, I gaze at the rare blue sky. Peaks of white tear apart the few fluffy clouds as the mountain air echoes with my cries.
The runners reach the end of the plane and tip to nearly forty-five degrees. I lift a hand to cheer, but the sled shoots down. Tucking in, I lock onto the only means of steering and try to dodge around the snow packs. At first, it’s not too hard, but as the hill keeps going, I struggle to anticipate—then I can’t even see them shooting past.
How do I stop?
I don’t ever want to stop! This is the greatest—!
