Hunted in Holly

Chapter 4

I was beginning to despise the smell of peppermint bark. It was a travesty that what was once my favorite holiday treat was now something I associated with hell itself.

I’d woken up still in that bed, once again tucked in tightly, but this time I was wearing a small red nightgown, made of satin trimmed with black fur that barely covered my panties. I didn’t know if Nicholas himself had changed my clothing, or if he’d had some servant do it, but neither sat well with me.

Not the least of which because my coat and my boots were also gone now. It was a subtle way to communicate that I didn’t need them, because I wouldn’t be going anywhere until he said so. Before I’d attempted to murder him, I was just a strange intruder, so there was no reason to take my things.

But now? I was a traitor, an assassin, and a prisoner.

The fact that every door and window was sealed shut corroborated that fact. I’d attempted to form a screwdriver out of ice to unscrew the hinges on the door, and I’d tried to cut open the windows in the same way I broke into the castle in the first place, but my icicles kept melting on contact. Some sort of spell sealed every possible exit in every possible way.

Absently rubbing my neck, I stood from the bed and paced around the room. On the bedside table was a plate of freshly baked cookies, somehow still warm, and their melted chocolate fragrance nearly overwhelmed all the peppermint. They were more inviting than a good book on a cozy armchair by the fireplace on a bad winter day, but I’d be damned if I was going to eat anything I hadn’t personally seen prepared. I couldn’t risk being drugged or poisoned to satisfy a slightly grumbly stomach. I wasn’t that na?ve.

With no new ideas, I sat back down on the too soft bed with a huff, contemplating my life choices. Revenge had sounded good in theory, but it turned out that my coming here just meant he got to eliminate the last of the South Pole royal family without so much as lifting a finger or leaving the comfort of his home. I served myself up on a silver platter.

How the hell did he survive that, anyway? I felt my icicle pierce his heart. I saw the blood. I know it went through. None of this made sense. I’d always heard that a stake through the heart was all it took to kill a Saint, and yet, he’d taken my blade like it was slap on the wrist.

Was he truly immortal? Could there be some kind of magic that protected him?

I closed my eyes and listened for the voice that had spurred me on before. Nothing came to my mind now. All I could hear was my own voice, overthinking and panicking.

I lifted my palm in front of my face and conjured a new icicle. I twirled it in my fingers, feeling its weight and shape, then I hurled it into the door with the speed and precision of an expert knife thrower. The ice shattered on impact, and the raining shards melted into water before they hit the carpet.

I exhaled, deep and heavy.

“So violent. Is this how you used to deal with your subjects, Queen Caroline?” The voice resonated through the room, and I jumped.

“Where are you?” I snapped, no mind to speak in pleasantries or banter. I was alone in my cage, and yet his voice was loud and clear. More of his magic, surely.

“Look up.” He said.

I listened, lifting my gaze to the ceiling, where a small red dot blinked down at me.

I pursed my lips in irritation, making a very unimpressed face at the crimson light. “Is that a camera?”

“An all seeing eye.” He chuckled. “It’s easier to know who’s been nice and who’s been naughty when you watch every move they make, no?”

My cheeks flared at the statement, and I suddenly felt incredibly exposed. I covered my chest with crossed arms under my protective and self-conscious nerves.

The South Pole was so cold, no one ever saw me in less than a thick winter coat, while this nightgown hugged every little dip and contour of my body. Though I still had on my bra and panties, and I was relieved that no one had taken those from me, the whole outfit was still demeaning. I felt particularly vulnerable dressed this way while locked in a bedroom against my will.

“That’s not creepy at all.” I said sarcastically, doing anything I could to take back power .

“When you’ve been tasked with passing judgment on every mortal soul on Earth, it’s a necessity.” Nicholas countered my snark with smugness that I couldn’t entirely argue against. As the King of the North, he had the final say on who was worthy of reward versus who deserved condemnation in this world. He, alone, held the power to create miracles or rain down the hell of bad luck on anyone who passed or failed his final judgment.

In the South Pole, we had another task. My mother had been the all-powerful Matriarch who controlled the seasons. She was the mother of all nature, and the great Queen of Cold and Sunshine.

When both she and my brother, the rightful heir, had been murdered in the attack, I inherited their responsibilities.

But having only technically been the crowned Queen and new Mother Nature for a couple weeks now, following having had my entire country decimated to nothing, and admittedly having declared my ascension myself, I hadn’t had time to fully inherit, learn, or master her powers. I should have done one of those training montages prior to committing to this now clearly misguided and ill-conceived revenge quest. I could have waited years instead of weeks, and been much more prepared and successful.

Instead, I’d plunged into danger, head first, having only mastered the most basic ice control.

At only twenty-nine, I was still a young deity compared to my previously age-old mother. I’d never expected to rule the South Pole—I’d been betrothed to the Son of Time, and would have been shipped off to his kingdom on the equator on my thirtieth birthday—but I was centuries from the power and strength I needed to be a figurehead all my own.

Now more than ever, the South Pole was a sitting duck under my inadequacy.

One more tragedy in my already depressing life.

“So what are you going to do with me? You can’t just keep me here forever. I’m to marry the Son of Time, and our kingdoms will come together, and—”

“Your fiancé is dead, Sweet Noel.” He interrupted, “Had you not heard? Both of your kingdoms are gone.” He added for cruel emphasis. My soul shattered at the words.

Of course I knew that was true, but somewhere in my mind I wanted to believe there were survivors somewhere. I’d heard the Equator Fortress had also been attacked, but it hadn’t been confirmed whether anyone made it out.

He would know though. He was the Saint who decided he no longer wanted to share the world.

Nicholas chuckled softly. “No one is coming to save you from me. It’s best you accept that.”

I bit my lip to contain my emotions, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me visibly break. I was all that was left, and he’d made sure of it. And now he had me in his grasp to do whatever he pleased.

I should have waited. I should have rebuilt. But no. I’d let my emotions rule my actions, and now everything was lost.

I dropped my gaze to my lap. I hoped he didn’t notice exactly how scared I really was, but I wasn’t doing a strong job of hiding it anymore. I’d never been a good actor, but fear had a way of crumbling any semblance of poise I pretended to have.

“I won’t just roll over and let you have your way.” I whispered, so quiet it was barely a threat at all. I bit my lower lip harder when I felt it shaking.

“Are you trembling, little queen? My, you look so fragile and breakable.” The words dripped with violence. “What happened to the brave, fierce woman who was going to kill a Saint?”

I hugged my arms tighter around my chest, hoping I could hold myself together that way.

“I’m still going to kill you.” I said, hoping I’d feel stronger after putting those words into the air. “I just have to figure out how.”

“Of course you are.” His tone was so smooth and calm and patronizing, I resented him even more for it. “That attitude is why you’re still alive. I have all sorts of lovely plans for the silly little intruder who broke into a castle where she didn’t belong, without knowing the first thing about her enemy.”

I cupped my biceps and squeezed. The tension did nothing to calm me down. “I’ll bite off my own tongue before I’ll let you torture me.” I spat, finding my backbone best I could.

“Torture you?” The door opened, and my whole body jerked with surprise before I could stop myself. I lifted my sightline as my captor casually and nonchalantly entered my space. He made a show of closing and locking the door behind him. The sound of the deadbolt clicking back into place was a death knell in my ears. “Is that how you see me? When I put you on my lap and let you stab me through the heart, you determined that I was the problematic one between us?” His laugh made me sick. He lifted his chin and sliced along his neck with his thumb, as if mocking his own murder. “For future reference, Dove, this is how you kill a Saint. You need to take their head not their heart.”

I filed that into my database, while I cursed the bad information I’d gotten. There was nothing I could do about it now.

Nicholas approached me with precision disguised as casual nonchalance. Everything about his movements suggested a seasoned hunter. He reached my place at the edge of the bed, and I was too off my mark to decide if I should retreat or engage. I just kept hugging my chest protectively, while holding eye contact, and hoping that, somewhere in those blood colored irises, there was a shred of humanity.

My throat bobbed as he placed a hand on my cheek, so gentle he was barely touching me at all. He lifted my chin with the slightest nudge, then he traced my jaw with his fingertips, slid down my neck, then brushed the narrow strap of my nightgown with suggestive purpose. The strap slipped down my shoulder. His touch followed my collarbone to the other strap, and he slipped a single finger beneath it. He tugged up on the thin material, then let it drop down my other arm.

The black, fur-lined red satin dropped down my bust, exposing the top of my emerald green bra.

I continued hugging my chest, supporting my nightgown with the pressure. Something about these light touches had my body reacting more fervidly than I had when his hand had been squeezing the consciousness out of me .

This feeling was different. Provocative. Sensual. Yet it was still the quiet terror that sang loudest in my heart.

“Are you a virgin, Caroline?” His too cool tone speaking such fiery words made my heart stop.

“W-what?”

He smirked, then shoved me back forcefully, sending my back into the bed. “I asked…” he climbed on top of me, dipping the mattress under his weight. He nudged open my thighs, taking position between them, and he supported himself with one hand beside my head. “If anyone…” he cupped me between my legs, and my eyes shot open, wide as they could go. “Has been inside your pretty little cunt, Sweet. Noel.” He said that pet name with vicious, staccato emphasis, as he slid his fingers up my center, staying over the green lace of my panties and dragging my scarlet nightgown upward. My breathing sped as he revealed my navel, then my rib cage. He hesitated only when he reached my breasts.

He watched my expression as he exposed me, taking entirely too much delight in it. I knew my face was on fire. I was sure my distress was obvious. I could feel my lip quivering, no matter how hard I bit into it, as vividly as the pounding of my own pulse in my ears.

I didn’t want to answer that question. I had always been groomed to be royalty, after all. I couldn’t just bed any man I wanted whenever I wanted. I’d been sworn to the son of Father Time, and I’d been expected to stay pure for him. Though I doubted he’d done the same while we were apart, he’d never so much as fooled around with me while we waited to fulfill the age restrictions outlined in the treaty .

“Why does that matter?” I shook out words, defiantly.

“Heh.” Nicholas continued to look at me like I was his mouse in a trap. “Your body language answers my question quite clearly.” He used two fingers to draw a line of pressure down the center of my stomach, stopping when he reached the band of my lace underwear. “Every little twitch tells me so many things that you don’t want to admit out loud.” I held perfectly still, confirming nor denying not a single thing. “Though to be clear, it’s fine if you aren’t. It’s okay if I’m not your first. I’ll simply need a list of names, so I can eliminate anyone who thinks they can walk this earth knowing what my future wife looks like when she comes.” He dipped his fingers beneath the band, and I was stunned silent by the proclamation. “Or what her pussy feels like when she’s convulsing on his cock.” He settled his index finger at the top of my lips. “Anyone who dared to fill my queen with his worthless seed.” He nudged my clit. My heart hammered, while my thighs clenched against him.

“Th-there’s never been anyone.” I admitted in my panic. Why I had, I couldn’t say. I didn’t want him to think he was going to be taking something special from me. “I was forbidden to even touch myself before marriage.” Stop talking. Stop talking. Every word was more mortifying than the last. The closest I’d ever come to orgasm was while grinding on a pillow or a plush toy, but I never dared use my fingers. I would have plenty of time in my immortal life to explore, I’d been told. But I wasn’t supposed to have urges outside my husband or until my husband.

I did my best to not have urges.

“Oh?” Amusement took his mischievous expression. “So you saved this gift just for me?” He slid down the center of my folds so slowly, while the pressure was a sensation unlike anything I’d ever known. I couldn’t breathe. “Then I can’t wait to open the Christmas present you brought me, Sweet Noel.” He stopped at the base of my pussy, traced the entrance, then he moved upwards again, taking his time to spread the wetness on his fingertip on the way up.

My whole body shivered at the contact, and I hated the way I was practically throbbing in his hand.

All I managed to do was whimper in response. I turned my head away, not wanting to look into those intense, scarlet eyes for even another second.

Every time I closed my eyes, I waited for that voice to tell me to be strong again. To demand I kill him again. Those quiet taunts had been my only source of strength.

But they’d been silent since Nicholas had taken me prisoner.

“Don’t be so afraid, Sweet Noel. I won’t take you yet.” His own half-lidded eyes were of a man fighting his own needs. “Such a valuable prize needs to be earned, don’t you think?” He leaned in and sniffed along my neck as if he was scenting me. Though it was hard to focus on anything but the pressured circles he was drawing around my most sensitive nerves. His intense body heat was filling my entire soul, and the weight of him on me might have been a comfort if it wasn’t a prison. He dipped down again, then spread more of my wetness between my lips. The way my own body lubricated his movements, increasing the pleasure coiling in my core, was a true betrayal.

“Let’s play a game.” His words were breathy and increasingly undone as he played in my arousal. “The most dangerous game.” His chuckle heated my neck. “Because you are the most dangerous game I’ve ever wanted to play.” His lips brushed my ear, and I cursed the quiet moan I let slip.

“What kind of game?” My words were as weak as my resistance, every time he grazed that perfect spot.

“It’s a simple game. I think you’ll be good at it.” He traced my ear with his tongue, and his body near shivered at my taste. “There’s a large forest at the flank of my fortress.” The moan on his lips as he touched me heated my cheeks more than I’d admit. “I’ll let you go, and you’ll run from me. You’ll hide. You’ll try so hard to escape.” He started moving his fingers faster. My hips pressed into his hand in a moment of foolish instinct, and I was too overwhelmed by every perfect tingle to correct myself. “If you can evade me until Christmas, you win. I’ll let you have my head and my kingdom.” Another nip of my ear, another shameful whimper on my lips. “But when you fail, and I catch you, I win.” His tone was a growl that felt more animal than man. The coarse feel of his stubble brushing my cheek only added to that sense of danger. “I’ll fuck you raw, make you mine, and keep you in this pretty cage, forever.” I could barely focus on his words as he continued drawing the soul from my goddamn body. I was ashamed to acknowledge that I’d started to rhythmically rock my hips against his fingers. That at some point, I’d started gripping his shoulders, while my own arousal soaked him in a sticky mess.

I’d never admit that the desire for more—to finish on him—was overriding all of my good sense.

I bit my lip in an effort to quiet the accidental sounds and shaky breaths he was forcing through me. Brilliant ecstasy was difficult to resist, and he knew exactly how to get me there .

“So needy.” Nicholas was merciless as he finished me off. He plunged a finger inside me, then used both his thumb and forefinger to work me inside and out. “You’re making it incredibly difficult to wait right now. But it’ll be so much more satisfying when you really make me work for it.”

No longer able to rationalize, I pulled him down on me, pressing our chests together, my body needing contact, as if he provided any security.

“Fuck.” His voice was completely undone now. Our stifled breaths were synchronized as both of us kept climbing. “Come for me, Dove.”

I couldn’t hold back my cry as I crashed over the edge. My body spasmed until I was seeing sound, knees shaking, and brilliant pleasure spreading warmly through my fucking soul. I’d been so tightly wound by stress and anger, I didn’t have any will left to fight that release. I threw my head back and let myself feel. All of it. That intense orgasm tearing through me was nothing like any sensation I’d ever known. I felt tears dribble down my temples, and I made no effort to find equilibrium. As much as I hated him, I needed that release as much as I needed my revenge. Whether it was by his touch or not, it was still my body that created every endorphin and ounce of dopamine that was lifting me up. That was the only power I had now, and I was going to ride it into the damn sunset.

His hot tongue swiped along the trail of my tears, first on the left, then on the right. Then he connected our lips, sealing the pact in a kiss. I let him in my mouth, and I don’t know why I didn’t bite off his tongue, or why I let him dominate mine, pin my tongue in place, and stroke it as he receded .

He withdrew slowly, sliding that thick muscle over the delicate skin of my lower lip, then he whispered, ever so quietly, “Good luck, Sweet Noel.”

Losing his body heat was a shock to my system.

He pulled away and stood at the foot of the bed, looking down on my ravaged body with a pleased expression. He sniffed along his finger, as if to add my pussy to his scent database for the hunt, then he sucked that digit between his lips. His tongue lingered on the pad of his fingertip as he withdrew, then he addressed me again with a disarming smile.

“Get some rest. You’ll have three days to survive, and I want you to be at your full strength.”

I was still too deeply in shock to know what to say. He turned on his heel, then walked to the door. He unlocked it, opened it, then paused to face me.

He offered one last smirk before he shut the door between us. The lock echoed loudly through my once again silent room.

I just stayed there, on my back, disheveled by orgasm, and staring at the bright red dot on the ceiling.

Unexpected clarity seeped into my mind as I fully came down from the intense high.

He… He was going to hunt me. Through his own woods, he was going to make me his prey, chase me down like an animal, and take me as his queen?

I moistened my lips and inhaled deeply.

Arrogant.

And foolish .

I had a second chance.

Let’s see if the great Saint Nicholas can really outsmart the daughter of Mother Nature in a romp through the woods.