Pucked By The Puca (Monstrous Meet Cutes)

4. CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

PEM

Tomorrow.

Iseol’s voice echoes in my head as I trudge through the snow. Her promise fuels the internal inferno raging within even as temperatures sink.

Before me, the Westfjords of Iceland stretch endlessly, a frozen expanse of white blurring the divide between earth and sky.

Every breath burns cold in my lungs, piercing through whatever heat grows inside of me for a second before the warmth returns.

All around, the landscape is still, broken only by the flicker of a white-tailed ptarmigan darting between boulders, its feathers blending seamlessly with the snow.

This far north, humanity feels like a distant memory. The Huldufólk—the hidden people of Iceland—belong here, their unseen presence woven into the rugged terrain.

There’s a sense of being watched, not with malice, but with the quiet intensity of something ancient and enduring.

Even the mountains hum with life, their snow-laden peaks wrapped in mist, as though they guard secrets too old and sacred for the mortal world to know.

It’s where I find my sister, Ramani, cloistered away from the rest of civilization. She’s the one person I can tell anything.

She never judges.

Just listens.

Everyone needs a Ramani in their life.

And although she gets along with my teammates, I know she prefers to be out here, one with nature, rather than be cooped up in a hotel.

I’ve barely made it to the entrance of a giant yawning cavern before her tiny form bounces into sight.

“Pem! I’m so happy to see you. Have you eaten?”

“I just got done with dinner, thank you, but I wanted to visit before I hit the hay. I have to be up early.”

Ramani’s dark brows furrow.

“I thought your coach didn’t start practices until after lunch so everyone could ‘sleep in and recover’?”

“Erm, I’ve been getting up early to skate at a secluded lake…because I kinda met someone.”

Ramani’s eyes widen until they look comical compared to the rest of her delicate features. My sister—technically stepsister—is an Apsara, a type of nymph from India.

Her mother married my father after the two women relocated to Wales. Now they live in the Fae realm with my father, but Ramani spends half the year on Earth to watch me play and root for the Goodfellows.

She’s my biggest cheerleader, and I adore her and my stepmother, even though I miss my own mum to ends of the realms.

“You met someone?!”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“But I am! You never check out the Stick Chasers.”

I roll my eyes at the ridiculous term but find it more apt than Puck Bunny because most women really are just chasing us down for our… sticks .

“Iseol is nothing like that. In truth, I might be the one doing the chasing—if you don’t get control of your eyes, they’re going to pop out of your head.”

Ramani laughs. “Well, can you blame me? Maan and Pita really think you planned to somehow mate yourself to hockey!”

“Hardy-har-har.”

My sister snorts. “Honestly, I’m happy for you, but also a little disappointed.”

My brows raise at this. Normally, the little Apsara is nothing but supportive.

“Why?”

“Because if you’ve found your mate, then Maan and Pita will start focusing on me next!”

I chuckle, but her words strike a resounding chord within me.

Mate.

Is that what Iseol is?

“You ok, bhaee? You look positively gobsmacked.”

“When you called Iseol my ‘mate’, it felt…”

“Right?”

“…yeah. It did.”

We share a smile, despite my stomach and heart doing strange things inside of me.

“Well, tell me all about her!”

“Erm, well, I’ve only met her twice—”

“Ah-ah, don’t second-guess your emotions! I can see you doing it.”

I shake my head, smirking. “You know me too well. Ok, I’ll tell you what I do know. Iseol’s from Korea. She’s part Gumiho, part Yuki-Onna, and very shy.”

“A hybrid—no wonder she appeals to you.”

There’s no malice in Ramani’s words. She knows how I struggled as a child to find my place in the world.

“She’s something special, but I might’ve bungled things.”

My sister raises a brow as I launch into how Iseol and I met, as well as my ill-timed kiss. When I finish, Ramani looks at me with amusement.

“Well, it sounds like Iseol likes you, despite your rocky start.”

“I think so—I hope so. She sparks something inside of me that I’ve never felt.”

“Like you’re on fire?” Ramani murmurs knowingly.

All I can do is nod because that about sums it up, but how my sister knows exactly how I feel must just be coincidental.

Then again, Ramani sees things others don’t. Her father was a disguised deva that her mother met at court. According to some, he had The Sight.

“So, how’s the team?”

I blink at my sister’s switch in conversation.

Does she know something that I don’t?

“Erm, we’re doing well. Getting ready for our first game here soon.”

“Nervous?”

“A little. Not as nervous as you changing the topic.”

Ramani smirks. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I’m not sure if this means about me playing in the championship or about Iseol.

“Halló,” a voice calls from the shadowed entrance of the doorway where Ramani and I have migrated towards as we talked.

At this point, we’re deep inside the mountains, where caves have been carved into elaborate living spaces for the Elves that reside here.

With a bow, I greet the Huldukona, her effervescent green skin shimmering faintly in the dim glow of the cavern.

Behind her, crystal quartz laces the walls, catching the torchlight like threads of molten gold. The air here smells faintly of moss and damp stone.

This place feels older than time.

“Hello,” I return with a small bow of my head.

“Welcome. Will you be staying with your sister this evening?”

“I appreciate your invitation, but I can’t stay—I just came to talk with my sister.”

The Huldukona’s smile deepens, as though she knows something I don’t.

“Ramani is a pure soul. You are blessed to be able to call upon her.”

“See? I told you that I’m delightful!” Ramani jokes, and I poke her side as the Huldukona chuckles.

“She’s very proud of you, telling us all about your team. You’re here to win a chalice, yes?”

Ramani chuckles at my confusion. “She means the Norsphere Cup.”

The Huldukona nods. “I apologize—the Norsphere Cup . I’m not familiar with this as the Huldufólk don’t follow human sports.”

“I’ve been trying to explain hockey,” my sister adds.

“It sounds interesting, although I was led to believe you always carry around a stick.”

I glare at Ramani, whose smirks. “I don’t always carry around my twig—er, stick. Sorry, twig is hockey slang.”

My sister leans in close to the Huldukona. “He brought it along to India in summertime .”

“Hey! Street hockey is a thing!”

The two women laugh while Ramani gestures at me. “See—eats, sleeps, and breathes the sport.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a deep passion,” the other woman reassures me. “How is the Norsphere Cup won?”

“Well, the IMH—International Monster Hockey—is split into two leagues: Eastern and Western. Each league has ten teams, and we only play teams in our own league. At the end of the season, the two champions of the WMHL and EMHL face off for the Norsphere Cup. My team, The Goodfellows, just won the WMHL. Now, we’re up against the Ice Giants.”

“And do you know much about the other team since they’re from another league?”

“Not much except that The Ice Giants are good—they have to be to have won their division,” Ramani answers for me.

My jaw tightens, and I force myself to relax against the jumble of emotions at going in blind. “IMH rules make sure we can’t prepare like we normally would. We’re not allowed to study teams from the other league. It’s supposed to be a true test of skill, no outside advantages. So, no videos, no reports, no scouting—but I’m not concerned. This is what we’ve been training for all year.”

Ramani snorts. “Really? You’re not concerned? You’re probably going to spend the next few days worrying about everything .”

I grimace because she’s not wrong, but the Huldukona reaches out to pat my shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. Everything will work out in the end for both your team and your heart.”

My eyes widen, and I glance at my sister. Considering that she just learned about Iseol, she couldn’t have told the Huldukona about my encounter with the pretty monster.

In answer, the Huldukona winks. “The wind likes to whisper.”

I ponder her words.

What else has the wind told her?

“I won’t keep you any longer, but you are always welcome among the Huldufólk.”

“Thank you.” I bow again as the woman leaves my sister and I alone. “I see why you fit in so well here—you’re just as mysterious as these Elves.”

“Their magic is ancient. It reminds me of India.”

Ramani does nothing to hide the longing in her voice, and I frown. “You know our parents wouldn’t mind if you went back to your homeland—nor would I.”

It’s the truth, but I would miss her dearly.

“No, home is where the heart resides, and my heart is with my family. Besides, you would be sad if no one watched you play.”

“I wouldn’t,” I protest, but deep down, I would be put out not to have any of my loved ones here to support me. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate and love you?”

“All the time, but I’m a vain creature and never tire of hearing it repeated.”

With a snort, I wrap Ramani in a big bear hug. “Brat.”

“Always. Some advice before you leave…”

I run a hand over my horns before nodding. Ramani’s counsel usually portends something to come, and it’s better to know it than not.

“The heart doesn’t check the scoreboard before it chooses a team.”

“How is that advice ?”

“It is,” she insists. “Just remember not everything follows a rulebook like you’re used to—especially not love.”

Then, my sister pushes to her tiptoes and brushes a soft kiss over my cheek before disappearing like the Huldukona, leaving me alone with her words.

I didn’t come to Iceland to lose my heart—I came to win with my team. But the second I think this, an image of Iseol skates through my mind, and my pulse races.

Maybe there’s more at stake than I first thought.