Kraved by Krampus (Yule Be Mine Monster)

19. Clara

Chapter nineteen

Clara

T he walk back to the cabin passes in tense silence. My legs feel like jelly, and I keep stumbling over hidden roots and patches of ice. Each time I stumble, shadows steady me before I can fall, but Krampus maintains his distance.

Magnus swings the door open before we reach it. The warmth hits me like a wall, and I realize how cold I am. My teeth chatter as I step inside.

Krampus moves past me, his massive form somehow fitting through the doorway despite his current state. His chains still chime softly, though the sound is muted now. “Sit.”

I sink into the nearest armchair, wrapping my arms around myself. The fireplace roars to life, flames turning a deep purple before settling into their normal orange glow.

How do I even begin to process what I just saw?

His hooves click against the wooden floor as he paces. “Vresh tarakul!” I hear him mutter. It is not any language I recognize. The shadows of his cloak writhe with barely contained energy. “You could have died.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

He whirls to face me, eyes blazing. “The wards were there for your protection. Magnus tried to stop you.” His formal accent is thicker now, each word carved from ice. “Yet you forced your way through.”

He’s right. I was stupid and reckless.

“Something was calling to me.” My voice sounds small, even to my own ears. “It felt... important.”

“It felt important?” He looms over me, horns scraping the ceiling. “That thing would have dragged you into the dark places between worlds, little mate. Places where time has no meaning. Where flesh and spirit blur together.”

I shrink deeper into the chair. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” A bitter laugh escapes him. The temperature drops several degrees. “Sorry does not undo the danger you put yourself in. Sorry does not erase—” He cuts himself off, turning away. His massive shoulders rise and fall with rapid breaths.

He’s not just angry. He’s scared.

The realization hits me like a physical blow. This powerful being, who just banished a monster to what I assume was literally hell, is shaken because I was in danger.

“I won’t do it again.” I stand on shaky legs, taking a tentative step toward him. “I promise.” The moment those words leave my lips, I notice a subtle golden shimmer in the air.

His back remains turned, but I see some of the tension leave his frame. The chains around him chime softly, a gentler sound now. “You cannot imagine what lurks in these woods, little mate. What hungers for magic like yours.”

Magic like mine?

Before I can ask what he means, he strides toward the door. “Rest. We will discuss this further when I am... calmer.”

The door closes behind him with a final-sounding click, leaving me alone with my whirling thoughts and the lingering scent of winter storms.

A flash of movement outside the window catches my eye. Through the gently falling snow, a sleek white Mercedes crawls up the winding driveway. My stomach drops.

No. Not now.

Victoria’s perfectly coiffed silver bob is unmistakable even through the frosted glass. I press my palm against the door frame. “Magnus, I know you’re listening. Please behave while she’s here. No moving furniture or changing room temperatures.”

The wood beneath my fingers warms in acknowledgment.

With a quick look in the mirror near the door, I smooth down my sweater and adjust my hair, grateful I at least somehow look presentable after everything that happened. The temperature in the entry hall stabilizes to a normal level just as Victoria’s heels click up the front steps.

Her signature three sharp raps echo through the foyer. I open the door to find her immaculate as always, in a white wool suit, not a single snowflake daring to land on her.

“Darling!” She air-kisses both my cheeks, her lips never quite touching my skin. “I was in the area for a writer’s retreat and simply had to check on my favorite author.”

Liar. The nearest retreat center is two hours away.

“What a lovely surprise.” I step back, gesturing her inside. “Please, come in.”

Her frost-blue eyes scan the entry hall, lingering on the carved details in the woodwork. “What a... unique property. I had no idea there were such historic homes in this area.”

I glare at the coat rack when it twitches forward, ready to take her coat.

“It belongs to a friend.” I keep my voice carefully neutral. “I’m using it as a writing retreat to finish the holiday novel.”

“Ah yes, your little Christmas romance.” She removes her jacket with precise movements. “That’s actually why I’m here. The marketing team has some concerns about the direction of your recent chapters.”

Of course they do. My pulse quickens. How much does she know?

The house creaks ominously. I clear my throat to cover the sound.

“Would you like some tea? We can discuss it in the kitchen.”

Victoria’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “That would be lovely, dear. Lead the way.”

As we walk down the hall, I silently pray Krampus stays in his study. The last thing I need is for these two worlds to collide.

The kitchen feels colder than usual as I busy myself with the kettle. Victoria perches at the island, spreading papers across the granite surface with military precision. Her manicured fingers smooth each page into perfect alignment, the silver rings on her fingers catching the light.

Don’t fidget. Don’t let her see you sweat.

“Your early chapters were delightful.” She taps her frost-covered pen against the stack. “But these recent submissions... they’re rather dark for your brand, don’t you think?” The temperature seems to drop another degree with each tap of her pen.

I focus on measuring loose tea into the infuser, grateful for the familiar ritual to steady my hands. “I thought adding some complexity would give the story more depth.” The aromatic blend of Earl Grey fills my nose, grounding me in the moment.

“Depth isn’t what your readers want, darling. They expect wholesome holiday magic, not...” She pauses delicately, her voice dripping with disapproval. “Whatever this is.” The last words fall like icicles.

The kettle’s piercing cry offers a welcome interruption, letting me avoid her gaze. As I tip the pot, vapor swirls upward, creating a misty barrier while the hot water sets the tea leaves twirling.

“I have a solution.” Paper rustles behind me. “A small contract addendum. Just to ensure we maintain the proper tone moving forward.”

My hands shake slightly as I set her cup down, the fine china rattling against the saucer. “I already have a contract.”

“Consider this an enhancement.” She slides a document toward me, her silver rings gleaming against the stark white paper. “It simply specifies certain content guidelines. Dark entities, explicit scenes, supernatural elements—all strictly forbidden.” Each word falls with precise, measured control.

The temperature plummets. Frost creeps across the windows in delicate, branching patterns. The tea’s steam dissipates instantly in the frigid air.

Magnus, please. Not now. I silently plead with the cabin, knowing its protective nature often mirrors my distress. Thankfully, I feel the temperature go back to a comfortable level.

“I need time to review it.” I wrap my hands around my cup, seeking warmth through the porcelain, trying to ground myself in its solid presence.

“Oh, there’s no need for that.” Victoria produces her signature pen with practiced elegance, its crystalline surface catching the light in rainbow fractals. “It’s quite straightforward. We simply want to protect your brand—and your readers.” Her smile remains fixed, a perfect mask of professional concern.

The pen feels like ice when she places it in my hand. My fingers go numb, and a chill races up my arm straight to my chest. The crystalline surface seems to pulse with an inner light that makes my stomach turn.

“I really should have my lawyer—”

“Darling.” Her smile turns sharp, like broken glass catching sunlight. “Need I remind you of your deadline? The marketing commitments? The book tour?” She leans forward, voice honeyed with practiced concern, each word falling like snowflakes against my skin. The temperature in the room drops another degree.

The shadows in the corner seem to writhe. A familiar warmth brushes against my consciousness—Krampus, sensing my distress.

No. Stay away. I can handle this.

Victoria’s pen hovers over the signature line, waiting. The contract paper seems to glow with an unnatural light.

My chest tightens. Everything I’ve worked for hangs in the balance. But something deeper, something raw, rebels against signing.

This isn’t just about my career anymore.

The shadows through the doorway behind Victoria deepen, and my heart skips. Krampus materializes from the darkness, his massive form a stark silhouette against the fire in the living room. His eyes burn like embers, fixed on the contract in front of me.

“The terms are quite generous.” Victoria’s perfectly manicured nail taps the signature line. “We’ll even increase your advance for the next three books.”

I struggle to focus on her words as Krampus steps closer to the kitchen. His horns brush the ceiling, and his chains whisper against each other with each silent movement. The temperature plummets further.

Victoria pulls her suit jacket tighter. “Is there a draft? This house seems to have horrible insulation.”

Don’t turn around. Please don’t turn around.

My gaze locks with Krampus’s blazing eyes. His expression shifts from concern to recognition, then to pure rage. The shadows around him writhe and expand, filling the corners of the kitchen. His claws extend, obsidian, sharp and deadly.

I shake my head minutely, silently begging him to stay hidden. But the contract glows brighter, and his features contort into something ancient and terrible.

“Just sign here, darling, and we can—”

Victoria’s words cut off as Krampus’s massive hand lands on her shoulder. She freezes, her eyes locking with mine.

“I believe,” his voice rumbles like an avalanche, “you were just leaving.”

My heart hammers against my ribs as Victoria’s spine goes rigid under Krampus’s massive hand. Shadows twist and writhe around us, the kitchen’s warm light dimming to an eerie twilight. The temperature plunges so low I can see my breath hanging in crystalline clouds.

“What is the meaning of—” Victoria’s words die as Krampus steps fully into view.

He’s still fully transformed from earlier. Gone is any trace of his more human appearance. Obsidian horns scrape the ceiling as he towers over us, his ancient fur-trimmed cloak billowing with living shadows. The chains across his chest chime discordantly, a sound that sets my teeth on edge this time. His eyes blaze like burning coals, fixed on Victoria with predatory intensity.

Oh god, my career. Everything I’ve built.

“This mortal belongs to me.” His voice resonates through the room, each word dripping with centuries of power. “Her stories are mine to inspire.”

Victoria’s perfectly composed mask shatters. Her face drains of color, making her silver hair seem even more stark. The contract in front of me bursts into blue flames, crumbling to ash.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice quivers as I stumble back from the table. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

Please understand. I can’t lose everything I’ve worked for.

Krampus’s burning gaze snaps to me, hurt flashing across his otherworldly features before they harden into something terrible. The shadows around him pulse darker.

“You dare deny me, little mate?”

“This is clearly some kind of misunderstanding.” I force a laugh that sounds hollow even to my ears. “Victoria, I’m so sorry about this... intrusion. I have no idea who this is.”

The lie tastes like ashes in my mouth. The temperature drops even further, frost crawling across the windows in jagged patterns. Magnus creaks ominously around us, the cabin’s very foundations seeming to shudder with Krampus’s growing rage.

Victoria rises from her chair with jerky movements, like a puppet with tangled strings. “I think perhaps we should continue this discussion another time.”

“There will be no further discussion.” Krampus’s chains rattle as he steps between us, his massive form blocking Victoria from my view. “The mortal is under my protection. Your contract is void.”

What are you doing? I want to scream. This isn’t how this works. I have obligations, commitments.

But the words stick in my throat as I watch Victoria backing toward the door, her perfectly manicured hands raised in submission. For the first time, I notice how her jewelry seems to pulse with its own inner light, responding to Krampus’s power.

“You don’t understand,” I try one last time, desperation making my voice crack. “I have a brand to maintain. My readers expect—”

“Silence.” The command rolls through the room like thunder, and my words die in my throat. Krampus turns to face me fully, his massive form blocking out all light. “You would deny our bond? After everything?”

The hurt in his voice cuts deeper than his rage. Shame burns in my chest, warring with my instinct for self-preservation.

The front door slams, making me flinch. Through the kitchen window, I watch Victoria’s white Mercedes disappear down the driveway, leaving tire tracks in the fresh snow. My hands shake as I grip the edge of the counter, steadying myself.

The shadows around Krampus writhe and twist, reflecting the storm of emotions I see in his burning gaze.

“Krampus, I—”

“Do not.” His voice cuts through the air like a blade of ice. “You made your choice quite clear.”

I step toward him, reaching out. “Please, let me explain.”

He moves away from my touch, and the rejection stings worse than the cold. The shadows that usually dance around him begin to fade, pulling back into nothing. The warmth that constantly radiates from him whenever he’s near disappears, leaving me feeling hollow.

“I thought...” His voice drops to a whisper that somehow hurts more than his anger. “I believed you were different.”

The magical energy that usually fills the house begins to dissipate. The gentle hum of Magnus’s presence fades. The ever-burning fire in the hearth dies. Even the enchanted spice rack that always knows exactly what I need goes still and ordinary.

“Wait!” Panic claws at my chest. “Don’t go. I was scared. I’ve worked so hard to build this career, this life—”

“And I was fool enough to think I could be part of it.”

Krampus steps into the shadows, but before he disappears completely, he turns back. His eyes no longer burn with anger or hurt—they’re just... vacant. “You wished to maintain your perfectly ordinary life. Consider it done.”

He dissolves into darkness, taking with him the wonder and magic that had filled my world these past days.

As the last traces of magic vanish from the air, it leaves everything feeling flat and lifeless. Empty. Like a story without a soul. The kitchen feels smaller somehow, colder. Ordinary.

I slide down against the counter until I hit the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. The silence in my head where his presence used to be echoes like a scream.

What have I done?