Chapter 6
The return to the North Pole is fucking exhausting.
After crossing the barrier—which still feels like being stabbed by a thousand needles even after centuries—I’m faced with those relentless little elves who think that just because they work for Nick, they're above me on the food chain. No matter how many of them I tear apart with my bare hands, they seem to multiply faster than the Easter Bunny when it’s in heat.
My hooves sink into the snow as I approach the looming, snow-capped castle sitting high in the middle of this desolate hellscape.
The reindeer are scattered across the courtyard, their red eyes burning with the same hellfire that brought them to life.
It’s almost laughable how humans can see these vile creatures as gentle companions.
While the mortal kind that herd far south are something to be fond of, these monsters will do more than bite the hand that feeds them.
However, those same humans believe Nick is still a jolly saint, but that part of him melted away when he sold his soul.
Thanks to that deal, I became involved in the trade and had to assist him while keeping a close eye as he grew stronger.
Now, we are seen as two sides of the same coin.
Usually, I’m left to my own devices and follow the list. Still, tonight, the magic that binds us was working overtime to pull me back to this fucking wasteland, disrupting the time I had set aside for Nicolette.
Whatever the prick needs, it clearly couldn’t wait.
My hooves click against the snow-covered stone steps, and the doors swing open magically as I approach. The warmth inside pulls me in so strongly that I nearly stumble over my own feet, but I manage to steady myself against the doorframe before falling flat on my face.
I walk down the long hallway, the large sconces on the wall flickering with each step, as if signaling me to move forward.
They are decorated with holly wreaths and mistletoe, and between each one is a tapestry illustrating Nick’s life story leading up to his trade for immortality.
They’re vivid with shades of red, blue, and green.
This main hallway differs from the rest of the fortress, which is decorated with tapestries showing the man as he is now, the self-proclaimed king of the North Pole.
His cruelty knows no limits, and even though I am one of his counterparts—viewed as the winter devil—he has become so powerful that he makes the decisions and has more blood on his hands than any mere mortal could fathom.
I used to admire his ruthlessness and take part in his so-called “reindeer games,” but lately, I can’t even match the bloodlust that seems to have taken over him.
His wife, Clara, is just as nefarious, using the elves to do her bidding and bring her unsuspecting humans to have her way with, all while Nick watches, getting drunk on winterberry wine.
Those humans are either now enslaved to her or dead, buried under the snow, never to be seen again.
While I enjoy using my whips and chains on human pieces of shit, even I have to admit that their methods are quite unorthodox. Whatever they were in their human lives has long since burned up like coal in a fire.
Rounding the corner, I hear the tinkling of bells in the Great Hall, the last bit of truth connected to the saint that Nick used to be. I step through the threshold, and the doors swing wide, the frozen elves used as doorstops holding them in place.
I look around and see Nick sitting at the end of his long banquet table, wearing a crimson tunic and a leather harness strapped across his chest with his sleeves pushed up, revealing his corded forearms. He doesn’t resemble the image humans have come to know of Santa Claus; instead, he’s packed tightly with muscle, with his long white hair half pulled up into a loose bun at the back of his head and a short, trimmed white beard.
Clara, his wife, sits to his right as they enjoy their nightly feast, with her newest human pet on his knees beside her.
He stares straight ahead, his eyes glazed over as he’s lost in the trance she’s put him in, while she gently pets his long brown hair.
He’s only wearing a pair of black leather briefs and a black collar with a leash clipped to the O-ring, the end of it looped around her wrist, as if he could actually run from her.
Clara is a beautiful woman, with her thick, reddish-brown hair styled in a coronet braid, reminiscent of a crown.
Her skin is pale, dotted with freckles across the bridge of her nose.
Her eyes are a deep green, like evergreen needles, and just as sharp.
She’s tall, with long, graceful limbs visible under her long red velvet robe.
However, her beauty only runs skin deep, and she’s far more dangerous than most would give her credit for.
She catches my gaze and offers a knowing smile before snapping her long, delicate fingers.
Her human pet crawls on his hands and knees beneath the table.
She spreads her legs and leans back in her chair, her hands gripping the armrests as her eyes flutter shut.
Nick barely seems to notice or doesn’t care, as he’ll probably join in whenever he’s ready or just keep enjoying the show.
Nick’s eyes flicker up to mine, and he gives me a vicious grin that mirrors that of a wolf at the edge of the forest, blood dripping from its maw.
He stands suddenly, and the sound of his chair scraping across the stone echoes throughout the room.
“Come, Kryx. Tonight, we drink!” His voice carries through the rafters, bouncing across the large room.
I mirror his smile, playing into his game as I approach the table.
The elves rush to pull out my chair, the place setting already prepared for me.
“What’s the occasion, Nick?” I let my teeth click on the end of his name.
He chuckles darkly as he grabs a goblet from the elf’s hand, pouring from the pitcher of mulled wine, sloshing it over the edge as he shoves it my way.
The deep red wine trickles down the side like blood from a festering wound, splashing onto the dark wood table.
Nick raises his cup high, and I follow suit.
“We have captured another lonely, miserable human, and we’re going to break them in tonight.
Care to join us? He looks just like your type. ” He gives me an exaggerated wink.
I chuckle and keep the smile on my face as I hold the goblet to my lips, taking a deep sniff and inhaling the sweet undertone of the mistletoe berries. I pretend to take a sip, then casually raise my glass, showing more of my teeth. “I’m not sure about tonight, Nick. Put me down for an I.O.U.”
He grins, and I can tell he thinks I’m unaware of the drugs he’s put into the wine; however, he’s tricked me one too many times to be fooled again.
He loves to spike my drinks, and sometimes, when I can’t ignore the twitch of my cock any longer, I dive into it, drinking enough to pass out, hallucinate, and wake up right in the middle of one of his weekly orgies.
They’ve become more frequent lately, and while I appreciate the fun, tonight’s just not the night.
“You’re no fun anymore, Kryx,” he huffs, reaching over and slapping his hand on my shoulder.
“It’s been years since you’ve indulged in any activities in the castle; instead, you hide out in your fortress.
” His eyes seem to swirl with the darkness that consumes his soul, a flicker of bright blue flames illuminating them.
Those same eyes suddenly narrow at me. “Are you hiding a lover?” His voice is low, with an accusatory tone. “And you’re not sharing?”
I laugh at his absurdity. A lover?
Nicolette is far from that. However, my obsession with her has led me to take risks over the years, and it’s clear that I’ve been gradually distancing myself from Nick’s debauchery.
Tonight, though, was different with her.
Not only because she was awake and fully aware of my intentions, but the slight pull I’ve felt in my chest for years was far more vicious than ever before, as if a hook was embedded under my skin, reeling me in and dragging me through the rough waters straight to her.
While she’s on the Naughty List, and has been for quite some time, the less he knows about her, the better off we’ll all be.
If he even suspects that I’m favoring someone, he will undoubtedly drag her here and use her up for himself.
And if push came to shove, I would take her to the darkest corners of the South Pole so he could never find her.
Deals be damned.
I give him a dark laugh, once again playing his game. “Only the occasional participant attempting to lighten their sentence.” I wink, showing more of my teeth, and make a show of dragging my forked tongue over them. “Which we both know is a lost cause, but it’s even more fun for me.”
The darkness in his eyes brightens, delight shimmering in his irises. “Good, because that list only keeps growing by the second. Their sins worsen daily, and I don’t want you to be distracted. Those mortals deserve every second of their punishments.”
He drops back into his seat and notices that Clara has sunk further into hers, panting as her little pet tongue-fucks her from under the table.
He watches, his eyes growing brighter as her pants turn into soft moans, her back arching in her seat.
He places his hand over his cock, gripping it as he leans back, taking a long sip of his wine while watching her unravel right here at the table.
Her moans grow louder as she starts to put on a show, and I avert my gaze—I refuse to play into it. She lured me in once, and now they both think I’m a willing participant whenever they want. Clara is a beautiful woman, but her cruelty has begun to rot her from the inside out.
Instead, I think about Nicolette: her curves, her flushed face as she came, and the fact that I didn’t repulse her with my confession, and she even asked me to stay.
What happened tonight goes against every instinct I have with the job I was assigned to do.
I’m supposed to come in, dole out their punishments, and leave.
Unlike tonight, I’ve never pleasured someone during what they believed was their punishment.
Even though her fear was apparent, she wasn’t terrified of me, and her pleasure was unmistakable.
Usually, the marks I leave on my victims fade, but the bite mark I left tonight will leave a scar, embedding my mark in her skin.
If Nick hadn’t been calling on me, would I have listened to her request and stayed?
Spent the night as if I were anything more than the demon who had infiltrated her dreams and used her body in every possible way?
I can still taste her desire on my tongue and feel the tension in my chest, attempting to pull me right from my chair and back into her bed.
I settle into my seat, making myself comfortable and keeping a smile on my face. As much as I want to leave, I know I have to wait until Nick’s drunk enough to slip out quietly; otherwise, he’ll throw a fit, and I’ll never get the chance to make my escape.
A door opens across the room, and I watch as the elves march in line, bringing out dishes and sliding them onto the table before removing the lids from the silver platters.
It’s a small feast of meats, vegetables, winterberry pie, and pastries that will likely go uneaten by us and be secretly consumed later tonight by the other human pets and these little monsters.
I casually set my goblet on the edge of the table, glancing sidelong and nodding as one of the elves grabs it by the stem and sneaks away with it, disappearing through the door that leads to the kitchen.
I hate the hideous little bastards, but we've established a system on the nights Nick tries to drug me, so they clear my tainted goblet for a new one, and I let them enjoy the high instead.
Turning my attention back to Nick and Clara, I see they’re lost in their pleasure with her human pet, their groans like needles stabbing into my ears.
Their chairs scrape loudly across the floor, one of them tipping over with a crash as they move from the table to the large polar bear skin rug near the fire, my presence becoming less important with each passing second.
I wait a few more minutes before I stand, making sure to keep my hooves quiet as I head to the door.
I need to get through a few more people on my list before I revisit my little vixen.
The demon inside me is itching to show her what I can really do with those whips and chains, and how desperate my shadows are to coil around her.
I run my tongue over the roof of my mouth, relishing in the taste of her sweet blood and cum.
As I near the large doors, I glance at the threesome, making sure they’re so engrossed in their pleasure that they won’t notice my absence.
Clara is straddling her human pet’s cock, where he lies back on the rug, wrists bound with his arms above his head, a gag over his mouth.
Nick stands over him, gripping Clara’s hair, and fucks her mouth.
He thrusts himself in and out, quietly gagging as she grinds against their pet, their sounds of pleasure blending with the roar of the fire, putting on an erotic show for all their servants who peek out from shadows and hidden doorways.
I smirk at the thought of my little vixen swallowing me whole, tears streaming down her face as I fill her throat with my cum, and my shadows stuffing her full.
I let out a quiet groan as I palm my hardening length, the images of her flashing through my mind’s eye.
If I don’t release some of my pent-up energy on the names on my Naughty List, then Nicolette might be in for a bigger world of hurt than she could handle.
She’s a criminal—almost a mastermind in her craft of fucking over liars and cheats. Her edges are already jagged; she just needs me to sharpen them even further. I plan to push her until she breaks, and then she’ll need me to put her back together.
I turn away as the threesome shifts and changes positions, letting my shadows wrap around me and keep me out of their line of sight.
Nick might be distracted at this moment, but he’s always watching.
He knows more than just when you’re sleeping or awake; he also knows your every sin and desire, all just from looking at your name on the list. And he’s not afraid to leverage that to get exactly what he wants.