Kraved by Krampus (Yule Be Mine Monster)

16. Clara

Chapter sixteen

Clara

M agnus’s door swings open before we reach it, welcoming us into its warm embrace. The contrast between the winter chill and the cabin’s cozy interior makes me shiver.

“Tea?” Krampus’s hand lingers on my lower back as he guides me inside.

“Please.” I sink into my favorite armchair by the fireplace, which flares to life unprompted. Strange how natural all this magic feels now.

Krampus disappears into the kitchen, and I let my eyes drift closed. The events by the ancient tree replay in my mind—the child’s silver-streaked hair, the floating snowballs, that inexplicable pull I felt while telling stories...

A tap at the window startles me. Probably just a branch.

But the tapping continues, more insistent. A haunting melody drifts through the glass, beautiful and compelling. It reminds me of the song my mother sang to me when I was little. My legs move before I realize I’m standing.

Just a quick peek.

“Your tea, little mate.” Krampus’s voice breaks through the strange fog in my mind.

I blink, finding myself halfway to the window. “Did you hear that?”

His eyes narrow, and the temperature in the room plummets. “Hear what?”

The melody fades, replaced by the normal sounds of Magnus settling around us. “Nothing, I guess. Must be more tired than I thought.”

Krampus sets the tea down and crosses to the window, his massive frame blocking out the fading daylight. His shadow stretches across the floor, writhing with barely contained power.

“Magnus.” His voice carries an edge I’ve never heard before. “Strengthen the wards.”

The cabin groans in response. The walls seem to thicken, and the windows take on a slight golden sheen.

“What’s wrong?” I clutch my teacup, the warmth failing to chase away my sudden chill.

Krampus turns, his expression carefully neutral. “Just a precaution. The winter woods hold many dangers after dark.”

Like whatever I glimpsed in the shadows earlier?

The melody’s haunting notes still echo in my mind, but I force a smile. “I’m fine, really.” I lift my teacup, inhaling the comforting aroma of chamomile and honey. “Think I’ll work on my next chapter while everything’s fresh in my mind.”

My fingers trace the rim of the cup, remembering the strange energy I felt while storytelling. “Those kids today... they were something special.”

Krampus’s shoulders tense. His horns catch the firelight as he turns. “They were indeed.”

“The way they responded to the story...” I pause, searching for the right words. “It felt...”

“Natural?” His red eyes study me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.

“Yes, exactly.” I curl deeper into the armchair, pulling my notebook from the side table. “Like everything just clicked into place.”

He stands motionless for a long moment, shadows dancing at his feet. The temperature fluctuates—warm, cold, warm again—before settling.

“I need to attend to something.” His voice carries that formal tone he seems to use when hiding his thoughts. “Will you be comfortable here?”

Why do I feel like he’s asking more than just that?

“Magnus will keep me company.” I pat the armrest, and the chair hugs me closer. “Besides, I have tea, a fire, and words waiting to spill onto the page. What more could a writer want?”

His lips quirk, but the worry doesn’t leave his eyes. “Indeed.” He moves to the door, each step silent despite his size. “Stay inside, little mate. The wards will hold.”

Hold against what? The question burns on my tongue, but something in his posture stops me from asking.

“I won’t be long.” He pauses at the threshold, his massive frame filling the doorway. “And Clara?”

“Hmm?”

“If you hear that melody again...” His jaw clenches. “Call for me immediately.”

The heavy oak door closes behind him with a distinctive click, and Magnus’s locks slide into place. I stare at my notebook, pen hovering over the blank page.

What exactly happened out there today?

I wait, counting Krampus’s footsteps as they fade toward his study.

The urge to peek beyond these walls tugs at me. Those ethereal notes drift through my mind once more.

I barely register leaving my seat and moving across the room until I touch the cool metal handle, but it won’t budge. I jiggle it harder.

“Come on, Magnus.” The door remains stubbornly locked. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but I need to check something.”

The cabin creaks in protest. A warm draft pushes against my face, trying to guide me back to my chair.

Since when do I let buildings tell me what to do?

Something stirs inside me, a spark of defiance that feels both foreign and familiar. Heat radiates from my palm into the doorknob. The metal grows warm beneath my touch, and for a moment, golden symbols flash across the wood grain.

The lock clicks open.

Did I do that?

Magnus shudders under me, but the door swings outward. The winter air rushes in, carrying that haunting melody. It twines around me like silk ribbons, tugging me forward.

Just a few steps. Just to see what’s making that sound.

I slip outside, pulling my sweater tight. The porch boards should creak beneath my feet, but they remain silent. Even the wind chimes hang still despite the breeze.

The music grows stronger, more insistent. Ethereal notes dance through the trees, beckoning me into the darkness beyond the cabin’s warm light.

This is probably a terrible idea.

I take another step forward.

The melody wraps around me like a lover’s caress, each note promising answers. He’s hiding so much from you. About the children, about your writing, about everything.

Moonlight filters through bare branches, casting strange shadows across the snow. My feet move of their own accord, carrying me across the yard and towards the wood. The music grows stronger with each step, filling my head with whispered promises.

Just a little further. All the secrets will be revealed.

Magnus’s warm glow fades behind me. The rational part of my brain screams to turn back, but the song drowns out everything else. Silver mist curls around my ankles, oddly warm against my skin.

Krampus should have trusted you. Should have told you the truth.

A shadow flickers between the trees—too fluid to be natural, too dark against the snow. The melody shifts, becoming something ancient and hungry. My heart pounds, but I can’t stop moving forward.

This is wrong. I need to go back. I try to turn, but my body won’t respond. The mist thickens, rising to my waist. Something cold and solid wraps around my arms, yanking me forward. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound emerges.

Fog engulfs me. The creature’s grip is like iron, its touch burning through my clothes. I thrash against its hold, but it only tightens its grasp. The melody morphs into discordant laughter that echoes inside my skull.

My magic flares in response, golden light pulsing beneath my skin, but the fog simply swallows it. Krampus! My mind screams his name, but the creature’s power seems to muffle even my thoughts.

The forest whirls past as the creature hauls me further into the forest. I’m lifted off my feet, watching my final foggy view of the cabin vanish among the branches.