With a roar, Eira lunged for the Santa and slammed her palm against his sternum. The giant man flew backward, the force hurling him into the hallway. He landed hard, cracking the floorboards, and she ripped the Christmas tree lights from their crooked branches. She charged over the hardwood, but theman was fast. His foot kicked out before his prone body and caught her in the stomach. The pain knocked the wind from her lungs, and she crashed to her tailbone across the corridor. Her abs ached from his boot. Her lungs struggled to inhale oxygen, but the horns granted her unnatural strength. Eira didn’t bother waiting to recover as she scrambled through the shadows, slipping in and out of the darkness like a demon in the night.
“Your kind should have made sure to kill us all,” she said as she crawled on top of him and wrapped the string of lights around his neck. “I won’t stop until all Santas are dead and my people are free.”
Then she tightened the wires. The Santa began to choke, his broad palms pushing against her. Twice he managed to shove her off, and twice she recaptured him. Eira refused to yield until he became as silent as the night, but the tighter she pulled, the more she noticed an oddness blurring his features. His struggling weakened. His face turned blue, and then as he passed out, it changed, his entire body following suit. The old man vanished. Gone was the white hair and beard. Gone was the thick midsection, and in its place lay chiseled abs, rippling biceps, and the most handsome face she’d ever seen.
Eira scrambled off him, and the sudden rush of oxygen fluttered his eyes. Eyes she knew. Eyes she could never forget. Eyes she once loved.
“Nick?”
Nick cursed. Or at least he thought he did. His throat hurt too badly to speak. His fae healing would erase the ligature marks by the end of the day, as well as the already fading wound on his arm, but he didn’t care about the pain in his body. It was a snowflake compared to the blizzard aching in his chest. Of all the living Krampuses, why did it have to be her? He knew the instant he pulled his overgrown frame from the fireplace and saw her crouching in wait that tonight would be one of the most painful nights of his life.
“Nick?” her voice was shocked as her weight abandoned him, and as his vision cleared, he watched the horns vanish as her human form took over. He’d never seen Eira’s horns before, but even in his pain, he knew he’d been missing out. She wasotherworldly in her darkness, and he berated himself for losing his disguise. The first Santa had been a fat and jolly man, so keeping with tradition, all fae who inherited the role disguised themselves on Christmas. He was thankful for it too when he saw her ambush. He was a coward, but he didn’t want to face her. Not after what he’d done.
“How are you…?” Eira scrambled away from him until her back hit the wall. He scented her black blood mixing with his, and as a Santa, he should find it vile, but it smelled like home. Like love. Like Christmas.
“You’re the Santa?” She didn’t give him time to respond, but what could he say?Sorry, I left you in the middle of the night years ago. Oh, and I’m the reincarnation of Santa, the race of men who’ve been murdering your kind for centuries.
“You still have nothing to say?” she spat. “You’re unbelievable.” She stormed back into the living room, most likely in search of her discarded knives, but all he cared about was how her ass looked in those tight black pants. By all that was holy, he missed that ass and the way it swayed in that tiny red thong he bought her for Christmas one year. He wondered if she still had it. He wondered if she was wearing it.
“If you think knowing who you are will stop me from killing you, you have another thing coming, asshole.” Eira charged down the hallway, knives in hand, and the sight ripped him from the memory. This was no longer the girlfriend who trusted him. This was the woman he betrayed. This was a Krampus. “It only makes me want to kill you that much more.”
She lunged for him, and lights still wrapped around his throat, he jumped to his feet. He was far more agile in his true form, but Eira also knew him well like this. She predicted his movements and slammed her shoulder into his chest, shoving him into the wall. Another frame fell at the force, but instead ofa family portrait, it was an expensive artwork. Nick cringed as it hit the floor hard, the corner crushed by the impact.
“Since when have you had pointed ears?” Eira growled, pushing the blade against his throat, and if there hadn’t been pure rage in her eyes, he would have enjoyed the way her body pressed against his.
“Since when have you had horns?” Nick grabbed her wrists and shoved her away, his powerful hands stronger than her without the horns to aid her. Fight as she would, he refused to retaliate, resigned to only act in self-defense. Even when she thought he was just another Santa, he only acted to protect himself. At the end of their relationship, right before he left, he learned what she was, but he’d never seen this intense aggression from her. He wished he had.
Eira tripped as he pushed her, and arms flailing, she gripped the pine garland gracing the hallway. It ripped free as she collapsed, needles raining down as the long strip fell. Nick rushed for her, angry with himself at how much force he’d used. He forgot how large he was sometimes, but the second he stepped within her reach, Eira’s body contorted, and she grabbed his ankles. He fell hard, chin cracking the wood floor as he collapsed with a groan, but before he could move, she crawled on his back, pinning him down.
“You left me!” she screamed, and despite the pain in his jaw, the ache in his heart annihilated him at her anger. “You left in the middle of the night. I loved you. God, did I love you! But then I woke up, and you were gone. No note, no explanation. Nothing.” Her hips ground into his back to pin him further into the floor. “And now you’re a Santa? I’ll kill you for this.”
“Eira,” he grunted into the wood.
“Shut up.” She reached for her knives and grabbed his short, dark hair, yanking his head back to slit his throat.
“Eira,” he repeated as he felt the kiss of the blade. “I had to. I didn’t want to leave, but it was the only way to keep you safe.”
“Shut up!” she pressed the cold metal harder against his skin, drawing blood, and Nick reared onto his hands and knees, tossing her to the floor as if she was a rag doll.
“They found out what you were.” He whirled on her as she scrambled backward over the pine needles like a crab, but he reached out and captured her ankle. He yanked her to him, and she slid across the hardwood with a yelp until she lay beneath his torso. “I loved you, Eira. I still love you. Probably always will, but the others? They discovered you were a Krampus, and they were coming for you.”
Eira kicked against his hold, and he lost his grip. “Let go of me,” she growled, trying again to crawl away.
“Not until I explain.” He recaptured her ankle, dragging her under him again.
“I don’t care why you did it. I’m over it.” She tried to slap him, but he caught her wrist. She snarled and punched him in the nose with her other hand. He should’ve seen that coming, but he was a fool when it came to this woman.
“I think you do.” Nick grabbed her other wrist, pinning her to the floor. “My kind—the fae—still follow the old ways. I wasn’t appointed as the next Santa when I met you. I didn’t even know what you were until the end of our relationship, but I fell for you hard. You were… are the love of my life, but when the others learned the truth, they planned to hunt you down. The reigning Santa believed all Krampuses should be eradicated, so the only way to save you was to leave. I left without an explanation to protect you. I’ve spent the past few years hiding you from them, but if I stayed, they would’ve found you. It killed me to leave, but it would have destroyed me if they murdered you.”
“That’s a pretty story.” She kneed him in the groin, and he grunted, loosening his hold. Eira seized the opening and shovedacross the floor. She was on her feet in seconds, but Nick was faster. He caught her by the waist, powerful arms cementing her to his chest. “Let me go.” She raged. “Get your hands off me.”
She pitched, the two of them stumbling, but his grip on her waist did not falter. Eira slammed into the wall, her palms pushing against the paint, and Nick pressed his muscular build firmly against her back to cage her in.
“If there was another way to save you, trust me, I would’ve done it,” he whispered in her ear, and memories of her naked body pinned against their bedroom wall flooded his mind. “I would rather you despise me and live than love me and die. Eira, I hate myself every day for leaving like that, but I did it to save you.”
“Then why didn’t you come for me when you became the Santa?” She shoved off the wall, but it only thrust her further against his steel-forged body. “You could’ve changed the rules. You could have told me the truth.”
“You’re not exactly easy to find,” he murmured, his lips brushing the curve of her ear.
