Page 61 of Never Kiss a Krampus
“This sounds ominous.”
“This is educational.” He picked up another ornament, examining it while formulating his first question. “Tell me, what is the traditional purpose of Yule logs?”
“To burn in the fireplace and look festive?”
“Incorrect. Yule logs are burned to honor the sun’s return, to banish darkness, and to provide protective ash for the coming year. The log must burn for twelve hours minimum, and the ash is saved and scattered across fields for good harvest.” He set the ornament down. “Another wrong answer. I may have to inflict a penalty.”
“A penalty? For not knowing obscure Yule trivia?”
“Knowledge requires incentive. Penalties provide motivation.” His smile was sharp and predatory. “Next question: what role do evergreen boughs play in winter celebrations?”
“Decoration? They look pretty and smell nice?”
“They represent eternal life through the darkest season, demonstrate nature’s resilience, and provide shelter for winter spirits.” He was clearly enjoying this, the bastard. “Another incorrect answer. I definitely see a penalty in your future.”
“This is a terrible teaching method.”
“On the contrary, I suspect you will remember these lessons quite vividly.” He moved closer, circling me like I was prey he was considering chasing, and my pulse started to speed up. “Third question: why are bells rung during winter celebrations?”
“To accompany songs? To make joyful noises?”
“To ward off malevolent spirits, to call beneficial entities, and to mark sacred moments in seasonal transitions.” He stopped directly behind me, close enough that I could feel his presence like heat against my back. “Three incorrect answers. I believe a penalty is in order.”
“I feel like this is less about education and more about you being a menace.”
“Can it not be both?”
Before I could respond, he moved. One moment I was standing at the counter, surrounded by tissue paper and ornaments. The next, I was upside down over his shoulder, the world tilting sideways as he scooped me up like I weighed nothing.
“Your first penalty,” he announced.
“What? This is… Put me down!” I smacked his back, which was approximately as effective as hitting a brick wall. “This is not a teaching method!”
He started walking through the shop, carrying me like a sack of particularly indignant potatoes, and I had to grab his shoulder for balance. The position gave me an excellent view of his tail, which was swishing with unmistakable amusement.
“This is ridiculous. Anyone could look inside and see this.”
“I am aware. That is part of the punishment.”
“I hate you.”
“You told me I made you feel safe. Make up your mind.”
He had a point, damn him. And despite the absurdity of being hauled through my own shop, I wasn’t actually afraid. Annoyed, yes. Embarrassed, definitely. But not scared. Because he was careful—one arm secure around my legs, the other ready to catch me if I slipped. Ridiculous and menacing, but careful. But still… Two could play at this game.
I reached down and grabbed his tail at the base, squeezing it firmly. He froze mid-step, a choked sound escaping him.
“Noelle,” he growled, his hands tightening on my thighs. “Release it.”
“Or what? You’ll discipline me more?” I tightened my grip, the fur softer than I expected. “You said my hands get me into trouble.”
“That is a different kind of trouble entirely.”
“Let me down and I’ll let go.”
His muscles were rigid beneath my hands. I could feel the tremor running through him, the barely leashed tension. For a long, fraught moment, I thought he might refuse. Then he sighed, a gust of warm air against my thigh, and slowly, carefully, lowered me to my feet.
He turned to face me, and the look in his eyes made my breath catch. They weren’t just glowing. They were burning. The red was deeper, hotter, and the hunger in them was so intense I could almost taste it.
