Page 32 of The Krampus' Queen
“Op!” The sled leaps then is no longer under me. One minute I’m on the sled, the next I’m rolling in the snow. Wood and metal flash before my eyes before the sled goes one way, and I keep bounding the other. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I cry out. My first instinct is to reach out to catch myself, but my arms are bundled in so much fleece and wool I can barely move them.
Snow flies up, freezing my cheeks. I shut my eyes and let the momentum take me until I finally come to a stop face down. I wiggle my legs, trying to right myself, but the suit’s too heavy. Like a turtle, I try rocking back and forth. I get in a deep breath, the air turning to frost up my nose, when I’m suddenly lifted off the ground.
“Amaya!” he grunts, flipping me around. With care, he brushes away the snow as best as he can. A handful finds its way through my cinched hood. I gaze at him, his gray face darkened by the bright blues of the sky. His long chin beard waggles as he fixates on getting me dry.
“That was fun,” I say.
“You scared me half to death.” Krampus pulls me tighter into his arms. As my face brushes against his chest, the heat causes my cheeks to ignite. I start to lean back before another cruel wind sends me racing for his warmth.
“It isn’t sledding if there isn’t a wipeout or two,” I say, then risk the cold to look around. “Where is my trusty steed?”
He spins us around. Bright red runners are bent and the wood is splintered on a boulder jutting up from the ground.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry.”
“That can be fixed. You, however…”
I laugh at his sudden henpecking. “Since when do you not enjoy bruising my thighs?”
Hot air bursts from his nostrils. “There is a difference in breaking bones and…” Despite there being no one on the mountain but us, that scary goat-man blushes bright pink. Shaking his head, he hefts me up. “You should head inside. You’ve been out enough already.”
“What? Come on. Just a few more minutes.”
The storm ended. We have all day with nothing else to do. What’s the rush?
I fly through the air and my belly lands on his shoulder. He pins my ankles to his chest leaving me to stare out at the snowy mountain. “No,” he says.
“But we’ve—”
A slap strikes my ass. It’s padded by denim, fleece, wool, and waterproof polyester, but the point is made. I fall silent as he trudges us back to his castle up the scooped path.
With a weary sigh, he says, “You can come back tomorrow.”
“Yes!”
He brought home so much more than the warm gear. There were boots for hiking, socks thick as Christmas stockings, sunglasses, hats, jeans, heavy shirts, and the like. But there were also the strawberry seeds he found because I missed them. A trunkful of books had spilled across the floor. Oh, and he even picked up a little gift basket of bath salts and body oils.
Turns out the Krampus loves being rubbed down with peony and suede oil. Especially when I work it into his muscles as he’s resting in the bath.
Time passed quicker than before. I delighted in the sprouting strawberries while also building a sled for myself when the weather finally broke.
And, after enjoying the endless snow day at last, my body’s not happy. Holding a mug of soup to my chest, I crumble into his huge leather armchair. My back cries out, muscles twisted from the fall.
Wincing, I reach up to try to rub the knot away and catch him watching.
“Are you in pain?”
“No.” I grumble and drop my hand.
“A lie. And a terrible one at that.” He sets down his book and rises.
“You know, having a boyfriend that can sense lies is really…” Warm fingers brush down my shoulders. “…creepy.”
Thumbs dig into my knotted muscle and I groan. He stands closer, pulling me back into the chair. “Do you mean it?”
He works down, hitting the parts of my body the ground pummeled. I hiss in shock but give in as he softens his touch. “There’s nothing wrong with a little white lie,” I insist.
“No.” Krampus bends over. He kisses the top of my forehead, then whispers, “You called me your boyfriend.”
