Pucked By The Puca (Monstrous Meet Cutes)

7. CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN

ISEOL

The wind nips at my cheeks as I step onto the ice, each breath blooming in pale puffs that vanish as quickly as they form.

My skates carve into the frozen surface, the sound crisp and sharp—but not sharp enough to cut through the chaos in my mind.

I trace lazy loops, the edges of my green hanbok whispering against the cold as I lose myself in the jumbles of my thoughts.

A relationship?

The word flits through my mind like a snowflake, delicate and uncertain, and my stomach tightens more.

Is that what Pem and I have?

It’s certainly too physical to be just friendship…

At this, the memory of Pem’s touch whispers through my body, and I shudder.

His hands on my tails.

His lips on my ears.

His breath brushing against my neck.

My skating falters as my core throbs with the same burning need the Puca coaxed out of me by stroking my tails alone.

The world didn’t just shift when I came—it cracked open, revealing pieces of myself I didn’t know existed.

For that moment in time, I wasn’t Iseol the Isolated. I was someone else. Someone who was wanted—desired, even.

And now I don’t know who I am except a mess of need and inner fire that refuses to go away.

Picking up speed again, the ice blurs beneath me. My movements are frantic, as if I can skate away from the thoughts clawing at my chest.

The cold stings my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat building inside me, a warmth that Pem permanently seems to have left behind.

I slow to a glide, my breathing uneven, my tails flicking faintly behind me. The ice shows my reflection, but not the fractures of my worries hidden within.

“Iseol.”

Whipping around, I find Pem on the edge of the lake, his gaze roving over my face with an expression of… adoration?

My body flushes as I skate over. “Morning, Pem.”

“About yesterday—”

“We don’t have to talk about it!”

The Puca chuckles. “Actually, I think we do. Not talking might be our biggest problem. I really like you, Iseol—a lot—and I want to get to know you. Having said that, I’m not sorry for what happened yesterday. It was…”

“Magical,” I finish for him.

He closes the distance between us, holding out a furred hand. I take it, his clawed fingers wrapping around mine.

Heat arcs between us, and for a moment, I worry the ice will melt at our feet, and we’ll be plunged into the icy depths of the lake.

“Yes, it was magical . I’ll never get enough of touching you—but my feelings for you are more than that, Iseol. That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“I’m not used to talking about things like this. It’s simply not done where I come from.”

“How so?”

“The, erm, physical aspect of a relationship is rather taboo for Koreans to discuss, especially Gumiho because of our yeowoo guseul. And the other aspects—like feelings—also aren’t readily discussed. Gumiho and Yuki-Onna are rather…stoic monsters.”

Pem grins, his tusks flashing. “Puca and Fauns are quite the opposite. Fae are known for their sexual revelry, as are Satyrs.

But in terms of discussing how I really feel, that’s something I learned from my father and stepmother.

They told me communication might be the most important thing in a relationship. I realize that we haven’t talked much. For this, I’m sorry, but I’m ready to listen now.”

“I don’t know if I’m very good at talking —especially about myself. I’m used to listening or instructing.”

“Are you a teacher?”

“Of sorts. I own an ice rink and provide skating lessons for fellow monsters where I live.”

“You must love skating if you traveled halfway around the world to do it.”

“I do. I never tire of it, but I rarely skate for myself anymore, if that makes sense. That’s why I come to this lake.”

“It makes perfect sense. Like you, I love to skate, but I rarely just do it for the fun of it. So you teach figure skating?”

“A little. It’s not my expertise, and most of my students aren’t looking for that level of advancement. If they are, I usually direct them to my recreational hockey teams.”

“You play hockey?!”

The shock in Pem’s voice mirrors the expression on his face, and I swallow a giggle. “Yes. Why does this surprise you? Can women not play hockey?”

“Of course they can,” he quickly answers. “You just seem so…dainty. I’m having a hard time envisioning you playing the sport. It’s rather cutthroat.”

I shoot him a dry look. “You don’t say? Don’t let my ‘daintiness’ fool you. I’m a master strategist when it comes to playing.”

Pem raises a brow. “A master, she says. Now I’m curious.”

“You play?”

The Puca rolls his eyes. “My kind practically invented hockey—French-Canadian monsters with Fae ancestry, although humans take the credit. I was born with a twig in my hand and a puck in my heart.”

“That sounds medically concerning,” I tease, and Pem reaches out to yank the end of my braid.

“Brat. I bet you’d get along great with my sister.”

“Sister?”

“Step, technically, but Ramani and I are like true siblings. Her mother married my father after my mother passed.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. Do you have any siblings?”

“No. I’m an only child, which is very common for Gumiho. Fertility for my species has been a growing problem. Doctors think the only reason I survived infancy is because I’m half Yuki-Onna.”

“I can’t imagine how heartbreaking that must be for everyone. The Fae are rather…prolific.”

“Probably due to your—what did you call it? Sexual revelry?”

Pem chuckles. “You almost delivered that perfectly if not for the gorgeous blush staining your cheeks. Has anyone ever told you that you’re utterly enchanting?”

I duck my head. “No. Of course not. Where I’m from, both Gumiho and Yuki-Onna are feared.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Once upon a time, a Gumiho would eat someone’s liver to gain life force.”

The Puca places a hand over the right-hand side of his torso. “Yikes. You’re not hungry, are you?”

“And if I am?”

It’s the closest I’ve ever come to openly flirting with the man. My pulse quickens, not with fear but something softer.

Sweeter.

A current of excitement that rushes under my skin. Around Pem, the air feels lighter, like the moment before my skates first touch the ice.

When he smiles, it’s disarming in its sincerity, a quiet force that unwinds the knots that’ve twisted deep inside of me.

The way he listens—truly listens—feels like stepping into sunlight after a long winter. He doesn’t fill the silence with words or press for more than I’m willing to give.

Instead, he leaves space between us, open and inviting, and this space feels safe—steady, solid, sure—and it’s just what I need to finally come out of my shell.

For the first time, I let myself test the edges of my own boldness. My words come out playful, light as snowflakes, teasing as I catch his gaze and hold it.

I like the way it feels to be this version of myself around him.

Pem’s golden eyes grow heavy-lidded as he stares down at me. “I think I’d let you nibble on some of my body parts.”

“Which ones?”

The Puca runs a hand over his horns. “I think I underestimated you.”

My shoulders scrunch up. “Most people do. What, exactly, did you underestimate about me?”

“Just how troublesome you truly are.”

“Oh, please, you’re a Puca . I’m a veritable human saint in comparison.”

“Hmm, Saint Iseol—it has a pretty ring to it.”

“If anyone is the trouble maker, it’s you . I’m a good girl.”

Pem licks his lips. “I love good girls.”

The way he says it sends a shiver of lust down my spine and straight to my core. I clear my throat, discreetly trying to suck in some of the cold air.

Anything to dispel the fog of need that’s surrounded us.

This is why I shouldn’t flirt. I’m way out of my league, especially with someone like Pem, who’s coquettish ways are natural.

But I can’t bring myself to stop.