Kraved by Krampus (Yule Be Mine Monster)

23. Clara

Chapter twenty-three

Clara

S omething’s not right with Victoria.

The thought nags at me as I hurry through the snowy streets toward the library. My boots crunch against fresh powder, leaving a trail of determined footprints behind me.

Mrs. Redmond looks up from her desk as I burst through the doors, her silver-rimmed glasses catching the warm lamplight. “Child, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Worse. Victoria.” I lean against her desk, catching my breath. “She’s here in Winterhaven, but that shouldn’t be possible, right? And the way she talked about Krampus and the children...” My hands flutter as I try to organize my thoughts. “She kept pushing this idea that he’s evil, that he’s hurting them. But I’ve seen him with those kids. That’s not—”

Mrs. Redmond’s expression sharpens. She sets down her pen with deliberate care. “Tell me exactly what she said.”

I relay our conversation at the café, pacing between the towering shelves as the words pour out. The books around us seem to lean in, listening.

“And there’s something else.” I stop, turning back to face her. “When she saw Krampus at the cabin, she wasn’t nearly scared enough. Everyone else who’s seen his true form...” Including me, at first.

“Indeed.” Mrs. Redmond rises from her desk, her cardigan buttons gleaming with an inner light I had noticed before. “I believe we need to pay Theo a visit.”

“Theo? At the antique shop?”

“That man’s collection isn’t just old trinkets. He has ways of... identifying certain things.” She retrieves her coat from the rack, which obligingly bends down to meet her hand. “If your publisher isn’t what she seems, he’ll know.”

My stomach twists with equal parts dread and anticipation. “You think she might be something else entirely?”

“In my experience, when things don’t add up, it’s usually because someone’s changing the equation.” She pauses at the door, fixing me with that librarian stare that seems to read straight through to my soul. “The question is: why would someone want to drive a wedge between you and Krampus?”

The memory of his hurt expression when I denied him floods back, making my chest ache. I have to fix this. But first, I need to understand what we’re really dealing with.

“Let’s go see Theo.”

The bell above Frost’s Holiday Antiques chimes as we enter, but it’s not the cheerful tinkle I expected. Instead, it resonates deep in my chest, like the toll of an ancient church bell. The sound makes me shiver, though the shop is surprisingly warm.

How does anyone find anything in here? Every surface is crowded with curiosities. Delicate music boxes share shelf space with tarnished silver candlesticks. Porcelain dolls with unnervingly knowing expressions watch from behind glass cases. The air smells of old books, furniture polish, and something else—something that reminds me of Krampus’s magic.

“Ah, Mrs. Redmond.” Theo emerges from behind a towering grandfather clock that seems to be ticking backward. He’s exactly what I’d expect from an antique shop owner, down to his tweed suit and actual monocle. But there’s something about that monocle—the way it catches the light differently as he looks around the shop.

I fidget with my sleeve while Mrs. Redmond explains our concerns about Victoria. My fingers brush against an ornate silver letter opener, and it feels warm to the touch. Strange.

“Most concerning.” Theo adjusts his monocle, studying me with an intensity that makes me want to check if I have ink on my face.

His monocle glints as he leans forward. “Victoria’s presence in Winterhaven is troubling. The wards should have—”

A crash outside cuts through our conversation, followed by screaming. I rush to the window, pressing my hands against the frosted glass. Through the swirling patterns, I spot a crowd gathering near the town square.

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Redmond’s reflection appears beside mine, her usually perfect French twist coming slightly undone.

“Stay here.” Theo moves toward the door, but his antiques seem to have other ideas. Display cases slide across the floor, blocking his path. The backward-ticking grandfather clock chimes out of sequence.

What the hell?

“The objects are agitated.” Mrs. Redmond’s voice stays calm, but her hands twist her cardigan buttons. “They only do this when—”

Another crash, louder this time. The screaming intensifies.

“We need to see what’s happening.” I head for the door, but Theo catches my arm.

“Miss Goodheart, please. If Victoria is involved—”

“Then we need to know what she’s up to.” I pull free, ignoring how the silver letter opener vibrates on the counter behind me. “I’m tired of hiding from her.”

Mrs. Redmond straightens her glasses. “She’s right, Theodore. We can’t protect her by keeping her in the dark.”

The antiques shift again, creating a clear path to the door. As I reach for the handle, the bell above rings that deep, resonant tone again. This time, it feels like a warning.

I push through the gathering crowd, Mrs. Redmond close behind me. My heart stops at the sight before me.

Victoria stands in the town square, but she’s transformed. Gone is her pristine white suit and perfect silver bob. Light radiates from her skin, almost too bright to look at. Her hair floats around her head like a living halo, and her eyes shine with an unnatural golden gleam.

But it’s what she’s doing that makes my blood run cold.

A group of children—I recognize them from my walks through town—hover several feet off the ground, trapped in spheres of pure light. Their faces press against their magical prisons, eyes wide with terror. These are Krampus’s students, the ones he’s been protecting.

“You see?” Victoria’s voice rings out, melodic and terrible. “This is what your precious Krampus has been hiding. Children he’s corrupted with dark magic.”

No. No, that’s not right. I’ve seen these kids practicing their magic. They weren’t corrupted—they were learning to control their gifts.

One of the youngest girls sobs, her tiny fists beating against her glowing cage. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Silence.” Victoria flicks her wrist, and the sphere constricts. The girl whimpers.

“Stop it!” I step forward, my hands shaking. “They’re just children.”

Victoria turns that golden gaze on me. “Noelle, dear. I’m doing this for you. For all of us. Dark magic must be purged before it takes root.”

“By terrorizing children?” Mrs. Redmond’s voice cuts through the square. “That’s not the way of light, Victoria. You’ve strayed far from your court’s teachings.”

Victoria laughs, the sound like breaking crystal. “These aren’t children. They’re vessels of corruption. Krampus has been gathering them, tainting them with his shadows.” She raises her hands, and the spheres pulse brighter. “I’m going to cleanse them.”

The children scream.

My chest burns with fury. This isn’t about protecting anyone. This is about control, about Victoria’s hatred of anything that doesn’t fit her narrow view of what magic should be.

I feel something stirring inside me, like ice cracking in spring. Power rises, different from what I felt with Krampus, but just as strong. It feels like moonlight on snow, like the quiet moment before dawn.

“Let them go.” My voice doesn’t shake anymore.

Victoria’s eyes narrow. “You don’t give orders here, dear. You’re just a human who got too close to the dark.”

The power builds. My fingertips tingle.

“I said,” frost creeps across the cobblestones from where I stand, “let them go.”

Magic surges through my veins like liquid starlight. The glowing frost spreads further, creating delicate patterns across the cobblestones. My hands move of their own accord, tracing symbols in the air—symbols I somehow know by heart.

Words flow through my mind, ancient and powerful. I need to write them down. The compulsion is overwhelming.

My mother’s fountain pen materializes in my hand, its silver surface gleaming with an inner light. When did I...? But there’s no time to question it. The words pour out of me onto the frost-covered ground, each letter blazing with blue fire as it forms.

Protection. Safety. Release.

The children’s frightened faces blur through my tears as the magic builds. My handwriting shifts, becoming something older, more powerful. Each word I write sends ripples through the air, making Victoria’s spheres of light flicker.

“What are you doing?” Victoria’s melodic voice wavers. “Stop this at once!”

I keep writing, the words flowing faster. The pen leaves trails of silvery ink that sink into the frost and pulse with power. This is what I was meant to do. This is who I am.

“You’re just a romance writer,” Victoria snarls, but I hear fear beneath her anger. I sense that she’s just trying to get in my head. “You can’t—”

My words spiral outward, forming a complex pattern of frost and silver. The magic builds until my skin tingles with it. When I speak, my voice carries the weight of winter itself.

“I am a grimoire witch.” The revelation hits me with absolute certainty. “And these children are under my protection.”

I slam my palm against the center of my written spell. Blue-white light explodes outward, shattering Victoria’s golden spheres like glass. The children drop safely to the ground, caught by cushions of sparkling frost.

Victoria stumbles backward, her confident facade cracking. Her golden light flickers, revealing something ancient and cold beneath. “This isn’t over, Noelle. You have no idea what forces you’re dealing with.”

She vanishes in a flash of white light, leaving behind only the scent of burned sugar and a few scattered frost patterns.

My knees buckle as the magic recedes. Mrs. Redmond catches my arm, steadying me. The pen in my hand pulses once more before returning to its normal silver shine.

“Your mother would be so proud,” she whispers.