3. CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
ISEOL
The day passes in a blur as I try to compartmentalize my thoughts. My team needs me to be focused if we want to succeed.
But when I’m finally alone in my room, I collapse on the bed, going over this morning. My mind is on replay.
How could I be so stupid?
I let someone—a stranger I just met—kiss me! The very thing my father had warned me against all my life.
Gumiho have a yeowoo guseul, or fox marble, a special bead we hide on a string at the back of our necks that holds the very essence of our lives.
Others, especially humans, are known to steal the yeowoo guseul to gain not only dominion over a Gumiho, but also our kind’s knowledge—which is passed down in utero.
Eons ago, Gumiho would kiss someone, transferring the yeowoo guseul into their mouth to gather some of their vitality.
It was a better option than eating an unsuspecting person’s liver, which monsters have been known to do from time to time.
But the integration of our kind with the rest of humanity meant that most monsters had to adapt to the human world.
No more eating people’s organs to survive—and so Gumiho found another way to survive and thrive using our fox marble.
Over time, my father’s kind built up enough energy to pass it down to the next generation without stealing anyone else’s life force.
It was drilled into me as a child to protect my yeowoo guseul because someone might try to steal it by kissing me and swallowing my fox marble.
Even though my yeowoo guseul rests at the nape of my neck, I know it can move of its own accord if I’m not careful.
My father warned me it could slip to my mouth in moments of intense emotion, such as fear, or desire.
And isn’t desire the most dangerous of all?
These warnings pervaded my childhood all the way into adolescence, shaping my reserve of others, even monsters.
Unsurprisingly, the first person I ever kissed was another Gumiho that I met during a trip back to my mother’s homeland in Japan.
Like me, his heritage was mixed. His father was a Japanese human entranced by a beautiful Gumiho female.
Poor Aoto struggled more with his identity than I did.
Then again, Aoto’s mother left him in the care of his human father shortly after he was born, and he was raised wholly human.
His knowledge of our yeowoo guseul was lacking, and I taught him everything my father said about protecting his fox marble.
We were each other’s first kiss—first everything.
So young.
So innocent.
So fumbling.
That was a lifetime ago when I was in my early twenties. I’ve grown so much but find myself even more reclusive as I age.
The handful of monsters I’ve dated never worked out—probably because I was hesitant about even a kiss goodnight.
In reflection, maybe my father’s warnings have become a little too embedded. And maybe—maybe—the person I really don’t trust is myself.
Ugh.
I glance at the clock, the glowing red numbers reading 02:15. A noise between a groan and a whine huffs into the darkness.
Early morning self-revelations are the worst.
How many hours of much needed sleep did I lose because I was agonizing over a stranger who likely doesn’t even know what a fox marble is?!
Now I feel rather ridiculous as I force myself to relax. I wait for the ever-present heat of my guilt to vanish, but it doesn’t.
The damning warmth remains.
So strange…
My Yuki-Onna side always keeps me cool. Even as a child, I never felt the scorch of a fever because of my mother’s powers.
Am I getting sick?
That in itself is a worrisome thought. I’ve always been hearty and hale, a relief when almost none of my Gumiho brethren survive infancy.
Still worried, I manage to finally drift off into a fitful sleep. It’s not until there’s a knock on my door that I jolt out of bed.
“Who is it?” I croak.
“Kening.”
“Who…oh.”
Oh!
The clock shows me I’m late, having slept right through the morning and lunch, meaning my team has practice very soon . Luckily, the center for the Ice Giants came to get me.
“I’m coming!”
My promise is muffled as I shove on the many layers of my clothing and try to dress my hair into a braid before settling on a bun.
A messy one.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Kening teases as I yank open the door.
The K?ldrisi looks absolutely ridiculous in the hotel hall, bent nearly in half just so he can fit. He waggles his pale eyebrows at me, and I snort.
“Very funny.”
“Far be it for me to interrupt a lady when she’s enjoying herself.”
I roll my eyes, not used to being razzed in such an inappropriate manner. But as the new coach for Kening’s team, I’m learning nothing is off limits.
Plus, I think the hulking K?ldrisi gets a kick out of my prudish mannerisms.
“Is everything alright?”
“Actually, I came to ask you that. Usually, I see you at lunch, and you never left to go to the lake this morning. I wondered if something happened…”
He doesn’t elaborate, but I know he’s talking about my cousin, the true coach of the Ice Giants. Specifically, my cousin’s wife and new baby.
Both my cousin and his wife are Gumiho, and when Sun-Ji entered her third trimester, there were very severe complications, as has been the trend for my father’s kind.
In fact, in the last four decades, I’m one of the few to survive into birth, and experts think that’s only because I’m half Gumiho.
My cousin contacted a brilliant medical researcher in the United States. He and his wife specialize in monster pregnancies, specifically difficult ones.
The doctors flew to Korea and have been with my family ever since. Chaos and Marea, as they prefer to be called, have been so attentive and kind.
Three weeks ago, Sun-Ji went into labor. The two doctors successfully delivered the baby, but the tiny Gumiho struggled at first.
The little guy seems to be getting stronger with each day, but as such, my cousin asked me to stand in as the coach for his team.
I’m more than qualified since I own a monster ice rink deep in the Taebaek Mountains where I teach skating as well as coach recreational hockey.
But there’s a big difference from my reclusive little lake to being thrust into the spotlight, and that’s exactly where the Ice Giants currently are.
As the EMHL champions, they’re playing in the IMH finals against the WMHL champions, the Goodfellows, here in Iceland.
It’s been a whirlwind, but Kening has done his best to shield me from the press, both for my privacy as well as my cousin’s and his new family.
It’s amazing how little has been leaked about me taking over coaching, but I imagine the press will catch wind of it soon enough.
“Everyone is fine. Sorry to worry you, Kening. I just…slept in.”
Couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about a monster stealing kisses.
“Phew. Good to know the baby is well. Here. I grabbed you a sandwich and some coffee.”
Gah, this man.
The K?ldrisi has been nothing but amazing to me, as has all the team. But Kening, in particular, has taken me under his wing.
Whoever becomes his mate is lucky.
“You’re the sweetest. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. The team appreciates you— I appreciate you. You’re an excellent coach.”
“Better than my cousin?”
“I’m not answering that.”
I chuckle. “Smart man. Shall we?”
Together, we go find the rest of the Ice Giants and head out to practice. While I’m on the ice, my thoughts are laser focused on the team’s drills.
But as the day progresses into evening, I find them wandering back to yesterday’s encounter—back to Pem.
At one point, I swear that I hear his laugh. I whip around so fast, that I nearly topple over. Kening is quick to place a stabilizing hand on my shoulder.
“You ok, coach?”
“Shipshape,” I lie.
He raises a brow but doesn’t press me. After everything wraps up for the night, I trudge back to my room, exhausted.
Sleep reclaims me, and I dream about a man who’s light on his feet with tall, curling horns. He leans forward to kiss me, and I jerk awake as searing heat engulfs me.
Outside, the sun barely crests over the horizon, but I decide to go back to the lake. Hopefully, the freezing temperatures will cool me down.
I’m not sure if I’m trying to prove a point to myself or not. Or if I secretly wish that Pem is going to be there.
Everything’s quiet when I arrive, and my heart skips a beat when I realize that I’m alone, but at least my internal temps are cooling.
Sitting down, I lace up my skates, determined to at least enjoy myself a little since I missed being alone yesterday.
“Your dress is pretty. It reminds me of when you blush.”
I gasp as the deep timbre of Pem’s voice cuts through the frigid morning air. Whirling around, I spy him leaning against a tree.
He’s wearing darker brown pants with a lighter brown sweater that blends in with his fur, almost camouflaging him completely against the trunk of the tree.
“P-Pem!”
“I think I owe you an apology, Iseol. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I came here yesterday to tell you, but you didn’t show up. I know this is your special place and promise I won’t bother you in the future.”
With this, he turns to walk away, and I chew my lip.
“Wait! I…” The Puca pauses, glancing back at me over the shoulder while I gather my courage. “I liked your kiss. I just…haven’t kissed many men. It startled me.”
Pem cocks his head to the side before turning to walk back to me. He shoves his hands into his pockets while he seems to think about what to say.
“I don’t know much about Korean, Gumiho, or Yuki-Onna traditions. I’m sorry if I overstepped myself.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to reassure Pem that he didn’t, but I know he would sense the lie.
“It’s a Gumiho thing.”
“A Gumiho thing. I admit that I don’t know much about your kind, but I did study a little after we…parted ways. Seems Gumiho—and Yuki-Onna—are just as vicious as my Fae brethren. Should I expect to be promptly cursed?”
He’s teasing me, lightening the mood, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Absolutely. You have until the sun hits its zenith in the sky before misfortunes untold will rain down upon you.”
“Noon is just a short while away—the least you can do is grant me a small favor before I face my uncertain future.”
I frown in pretend severity. “I suppose if it’s a small favor.”
Pem holds out a hand, his tiny tusks flashing in the weak morning sunlight as he shoots me a devilish grin.
“Skate with me again, please?”
Even though we’re just playing, my heart does a flip. It’s such a sweet request—a simple request. Biting my lip, I nod and place my hand in his.
Instantly, my insides burst with warmth, the ever-present heat turning into something that makes me squirm.
Before I ponder it—or panic—Pem gives a gentle tug, guiding me onto the ice. As when we first met, we fall into the same easy rhythm.
We twirl together like a pair of dancers, my violet skirts flaring out before Pem spins me back into his orbit.
Neither of us speak, too caught up in the magic of our movements. We’re more synchronized than most pair skaters.
So much so that it’s almost uncanny.
When Pem’s hand clasps my waist, I only hesitate for a second before leaning into his touch as we glide across the ice.
Just like the first day we met, something fiery seems to spark between us. The foreign sensation crawls under my skin, making it prickle with awareness.
To my great disappointment—and perhaps relief—time passes quickly. My growing attachment to a man I’ve only met once before this is alarming.
But once the sun sits high in the sky, I know I must return to my duties, no matter what. I sigh with regret as we make our way back to the outer edge of the lake.
Pem continues to hold my hand, and my tails twitch almost violently at the stroke of his claw across my thumb.
“Tomorrow?” he asks, his voice tinged with hope.
My nerves blaze like they’ve been lit on fire.
“Tomorrow,” I promise, speaking unconsciously.
And then for a second time, I run away, overwhelmed by my attraction to this beautiful man. As I flee, I remind myself that I have a job here.
That I didn’t come to Iceland for romance.
But maybe it found me anyway.