4. Christmas Eve
CHAPTER 4
CHRISTMAS EVE
I should have been.
The first thing I notice after my long, dreamless sleep is over is that my hands are stretched over my head. For a second, I’m sure I’m wrong. That I had to have dreamed because this? This is a nightmare.
The second thing I notice? The chair by the fire is empty. Ruprecht was sitting there when I eventually passed out last night, and the only time I woke up with a start after about an hour of sleep, his silhouette reassured me he hadn’t moved at all.
He must have after he was sure I was dead to the world. And I must have been because I slept through whatever the hell he did to me.
My hands are stretched over my head, and when I yank on them to lower them back to my borrowed bed, I realize I’m stuck. It’s like being slapped awake. Panic rushes through me as I pull a little harder, the last of my sleep disappearing as a need to escape takes its place.
Chains rattle. Over the crackles of the burning wood in the fireplace, the metal clinks and I have to jerk my head in order to see exactly what is going on.
Some kind of fur is slipped between my wrists and the shackles on the ends of the length of chains. There’s no denying that I’ve been trussed up, one of the middle loops on the long, long length of gold chain is hooked to the wood-beam and thatched ceiling.
I’m still wearing the heavy dress from the night before. Despite how warm it is in Ruprecht’s cottage, I still had a chill in my bones. That, plus it was pretty obvious to me that stripping down in front of him might be a bad idea.
Not because the gentleman monster would take advantage of me, but because horny Josie might have made a move on him.
Fuck. What were in those ‘vitamin’s Sandra gave me? I know one was birth control—and I’m really beginning to question her foresight there—but did she slip in, like, Spanish fly into them or something? I’ve had a few lovers who I knew at first glance that I’d eventually end up in their bed, but at least they were all human. And Ruprecht… his face might be, and so is his chest, but the horns? The hooves? The patches of fur that cover his shoulders and give him a surprisingly distinguished-looking bead and mustache combo?
He’s not human. Honestly? I don’t even know if he has the sort of equipment beneath his leather pants that would make sex between us possible. And if he did? Based on his height, he might be more than I can handle.
But, last night, I was curious enough to try.
That was last night.
This morning? I’m about to flip the hell out.
He’s chained me up. After lulling me into a false sense of security last night, he has me basically chained in his bed—and he’s nowhere in sight.
Don’t scream. If the beast is nearby, I don’t want him to know I’m awake. I don’t know what the hell he has in mind, but me staying stuck like this isn’t going to work for me. At the very least, I’m walking out of the forest in two days. I don’t know what’ll happen if I miss my window to leave the woods—since the council members were very clear that I need to stay for three days, not two or four, but three —and I don’t want to find out.
Come on, Josie. You can do this. Scooting back, sitting up so that there’s a little slack to the chains, if I just try to slip the loop off the hook up there… come on… twist your wrists, don’t make too much noise… almost… almost …
Damn it. The chain slipped back down, rattling again.
That’s okay. If I gave up after every single failure, I’d never get anything done. Ruprecht still isn’t in sight. I don’t know how long it’ll be before he comes back. I’d rather be gone before he does, but if I can’t slip these chains…
“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath when I’m about an inch away from getting the loop off before it slides down again.
Okay. That’s not working. What about the shackles on my wrists themselves? Is there a way to shimmy the protective fur out, then slide my wrist out of the shackle? It might hurt, but if they’re not too tight, I could do it.
Well, if my shoulders don’t feel like they’re about to be pulled out of their sockets, I could.
I let out a grunt of frustration. Some survivalist, right? I walked straight into the monster’s lair, ignoring the obvious trap until it was too late because those gnomes were creepy as hell and Ruprecht had a pleasant rumble. And, sure, he had a big wooden rod and chains, too, but I overlooked that because he seemed so nice.
Looks like I found the naughty one, huh?
Just as I have that thought—or maybe it was the grunt that caught his attention—the front door eases in. A gust of wind precedes Ruprecht, as do snowflakes blowing in through the entrance before he’s filling the doorway, a few stray flakes clinging to his horns.
The rest of his half-naked body is damp, as though the snowflakes immediately melted as soon as they hit his bare skin. No wonder he’s shirtless. If he runs as hot as I’m expecting, he’s probably in his element, half-dressed and out in the winter weather.
This morning, his eyes are still gold; no longer the fierce red they were when he confronted the toothy elves. They warm over when he notices I’m awake, though his mustache droops when he sees I’m glaring daggers at him.
“Is something wrong?” he rumbles softly.
Is he serious?
I jangle the chains. “Why the hell did you chain me up like this? Get these off of me. Let me go!”
Ruprecht glides right over to the bed. “Of course, Josie. You need only ask. But the chains… they were for your safety, ja? I did not want anyone to steal you away while I was gone. It was only for a few moments. I give you my word.”
I want to believe that. I mean, if my arms were chained over my head for longer than a couple of minutes, I’d expect them to be achier than they are as Ruprecht easily unhooks the chain from his ceiling. They don’t feel great , but it’s not as bad as it could be. The fur he tucked between the shackles means that, as soon as he pops those for me, there’s no red marks or anything on my wrists.
I rub them anyway, still glaring at him. “Next time just lock the door, okay? If you had to go out, I get that, but what did you think? That those elves would sneak in while you did?”
His eyes bleed to red. “Something like that,” he agrees. “In Blackmoor, one takes precautions. Especially when it comes to something precious.”
Oh.
Oh .
Okay, then.
Before I can say anything to that, Ruprecht gestures toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I have christstollen.”
“Christ-what?”
“Stollen. Christmas bread. It has fruit and nuts, a little icing sugar. Until the solstice ends, it’s my usual breakfast meal. And, of course, I have tea.”
I look at the table, doing a double-take. I’d put money down that, two seconds ago, the tabletop was empty. Like, nothing on it, empty . But without Ruprecht moving away from the side of the bed, suddenly there is a steaming loaf of sweet and spicy-smelling bread sitting on a tray, with a silver teapot and two dainty white mugs perched next to it.
One mug is demon-sized. The other is human-sized. Unless he has a habit of rescuing the damsels in distress who underestimate the beasts of Blackmoor and keeps a mug like that one handy, I just witnessed even more magic.
I haven’t had anything to eat in probably twenty-four hours. And maybe it’s not the brightest idea to eat enchanted food with some kind of a demon, man, monster , but I’ve lived the last seven years with one motto: do what you gotta do.
“Yes,” I admit. “I am.”
“Come, liebling. Eat with me.”
Sit with me. Eat with me. Ruprecht has a tendency to be a little bossy, doesn’t he?
But I’m hungry and I’m thirsty, and if there other… needs I’ll have to take care of, I can’t do that while me and this big ballgown are flat on our backs in his bed.
I wave him off when he offers to help me maneuver my way to a standing position. He hovers, as though prepared to lift me up should I fall, but I manage to get to my feet without him. I kick my discarded heels out of my way and I snatch the skirt, tromping over to the table, and when I notice he’s watching me with a strange expression, a snapped, “What?”, has him clearing his throat before taking a seat.
By the time I’m sitting opposite of him, a plate with a slice of stollen is in front of me. The rest of the loaf is within his reach.
The teapot and the mugs haven’t moved.
I jerk my chin at the smaller mug. “Do I get some tea?”
“Of course. But I warn you, you might not like the effects.”
My hand was already reaching out for the handle the second he said of course . I pause before I hook my fingers through it. “Effects?” I echo.
“It’s an old family recipe. For those who are born of the winter solstice, it is a mint tea. Nothing more. Nothing less. But for those who are mortal…”
I wrinkle my nose. ‘Mortal’ again, huh? “I’m listening.”
Ruprecht shares a small smile, lips quirking just enough that the point of his one canine fang vanishes into his beard. “It makes its drinker say exactly what’s on their mind.”
“You mean like booze,” I ask, “or a truth serum?”
“Whichever one makes it impossible for you to tell me a lie should you take a sip.”
I side-eye the steaming mug. I’m a tea girlie back home, though I’ll drink coffee in a pinch for the caffeine. But while I’ll probably get one hell of a headache if I don’t get my morning buzz now, is it worth what I might blurt out if I drink some?
My tongue darts out, licking the corner of my mouth. “You, uh… you don’t have non-truth serum tea, do you? Or water, maybe?”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, liebling. Until boxing day, I’m as trapped in the season as you are.” Picking up his mug, saluting me with it, he says, “Frohe Weihnachten!”
I have no idea what he means, but I can guess. The season…
Taking my mug, scooting it toward me in case I get desperate enough, I glance back over at the lit Christmas tree in the corner.
“I can see. You really got a thing for Christmas, don’t you?”
“It’s ordained. This is my fate.” He pauses for a moment, as though thinking carefully about his next words. Using his claws, he rips off a hunk of the still-steaming bread, taking a moment to chew before he says, “Part of it. The part I’ve known for centuries.”
Okay. Don’t freak, Josie. He keeps referring to you as a ‘mortal’. Obviously, that means he isn’t one. Trapped in these woods, doing whatever it is these monsters do, he could’ve been in here for ages.
Or, you know, centuries .
While I manage to shove a piece of the bread into my own mouth to keep from showing off my surprise, he actually answers me.
“But Christmas? That belongs to another, which is why I usually sleep through it once Krampusnacht has passed for the season.”
There’s another one of those harsh words again. As the delicious bread basically melts in my mouth, I hurry to swallow before I try to echo it.
“Krampus…”
“Krampusnacht. Krampus Night.”
I fucking knew it! My gut instinct telling me he’s Krampus… I was totally right.
Just in case, I say, “I thought your name was Ruprecht.”
“Krampus is the type of demon I am. The name of my kin. But I am Ruprecht like you are my Josie.”
Butterflies flutter in my belly. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been anyone’s anything.
No. Don’t let him distract you from what this means. Between the Christmas tree and “Jingle Bells”, this stollen and Krampus himself sitting across from me after the way I was pounced on by… by…
“So you’re really Krampus. And those things I saw yesterday… you said they were elves.”
“Yes.”
“Christmas elves?”
Ruprecht nods once.
Okay. As crazy as this all sounds, it’s starting to click a little. “And the Toymaker? He’s?—”
His cheeks hollow, jaw clenching beneath his beard. “He will be no concern of yours so long as you are mine. I found you. I recognized who you are first.” Ruprecht places his tea down on the table with a loud clink . The liquid sloshes a little as his hand dips below the table, dropping to his lap. “All of me did. Forget the Toymaker.”
After a reaction like that, I’m not so sure I can.
Suddenly, Ruprecht pushes away from the table, poised to rise.
Oh, hell no.
“What are you doing? Hang on, where are you going?”
“Outside,” his his clipped answer. “I will return.”
“Wait. You’re not going to chain me up again, are you? To keep me safe?”
I don’t do air quotes because I’m pretty sure the immortal demon will have no clue what they mean, but it’s obvious that I don’t think waking up with my arms stretched over my head left a good impression on me.
He laughs ruefully, though he stays seated. “Liebling… if only you knew how safe you really are. If you knew what I wanted to do to you, slumbering in my bed like my very own Christmas angel… The chains kept you from being taken from me, but they also reminded me that you don’t deserve to be punished by mating with one like me.”
Mating.
Mating .
He means fucking, doesn’t he?”
I open my mouth. The words stall, and then I think: screw it. Grabbing my tea, I swallow a gulp. It’s still warm, the minty taste pleasant, and it only just hits my gut before I’m blurting out, “I don’t think sleeping with you would be a punishment. In fact, going to bed wet and horny last night… that was more of a punishment than anything else.”
Ruprecht’s eyes darken. “You would’ve welcomed me?”
I didn’t say that. I also didn’t not say that.
And now I don’t say anything at all.
A small growl sounds in the back of his throat. “Drink your tea, Josie.”
I raise my eyebrows. “So I can’t lie to you?”
“I’ll be fair. I won’t lie to you. Do you know what I’d give to have been welcomed into that bed with you last night? How long I’ve waited for you?”
For me? “The council made it clear they don’t let too many women into Blackmoor. Even fewer men. If there aren’t any female monsters, you’ve probably been celibate for a while, huh?”
Centuries …
The linen on his pants rustle. “I told you, my Josie. I will not lie to you. It’s not that there are no other women in Blackmoor that’s kept me from having a female in my bed. It’s that I’ve spent as long as I’ve existed in this incarnation waiting for a mate.” His shoulder moves, his angle in his chair shifting, but his eyes stay locked on my face. “For you .”
I blink. “For me ?”
“Ja. There is a reason why you are, liebling. Why the council allowed you in particular to walk through our woods. Why the elves tried to take you first… and why I was woken from my slumber, drawn to find you on such a night past Krampusnacht. I never have before, but I dreamed of the moment I would. Because it’s you, Josie Butler. You’re the mortal female I’ve been longing for.”
Okay.
Um.
What ?
“It’s not me,” I try to say. “You just think that because I’m the girl the council picked. But it was between me and another one. Caitlin, okay? I got lucky. That doesn’t mean… whatever you think it means.”
Right?
Ruprecht lets out a hollow chuckle. “I’d agree with you, but from the moment I caught your scent on the snow, my body has reacted to you. And since I can’t claim my mate, I’ve had to make do. I’ve gone outside to find release. I would go now if you ask me to.”
I don’t. Instead, I ask, “What is Krampusnacht?”
His expression tells me that I surprised him by asking. Whether it’s because I don’t know or because I want to know, I’m not sure, but he waits a few seconds before answering me.
“The sixth of December is the feast for St. Nicholas. The night before belongs to me. Krampusnacht. That’s when I hibernate… unless I have cause to waken.”
Which, if I can believe him, was because he sensed me out in the woods…
I think about that for a second. I think about all of this. I mean, he’s trying to tell me that this was… fated… or some shit. That I was supposed to be here. But he knows I’m only here for three days, right?
Right?
Ruprecht is still watching me closely. “Tell me… are you frightened, Josie?”
I swallow. I don’t even need the tea to tell the truth: “No.”
He blows air through his nose. He doesn’t come out and call me a ‘liar’—but he doesn’t have to. His soft snort does it for him.
He’s wrong, though. I’m not frightened.
I’m turned on.
The muscles in his arm bunch. The sound of skin on skin rubbing finally reaches me, and my jaw drops.
“Are you…” I can’t even bring myself to say my suspicions out loud. It sounds so accusatory, even in my head, but the way he’s slouching a little in his seat…
He is, isn’t he?
“Does this bother you? Demons need release, and I’m used to my solitude. But ”
That’s he’s jerking off under the table while I’m in the middle of breakfast?
Actually… “Not really. You do you, R.”
He grunts a little, then says, “R?”
I shrug. “Ruprecht sounds so formal, and that’s assuming I can even say it right.” And I haven’t been. I’m sure of that. “Krampus sounds like we belong in a horror movie. With what’s going on right now… and you saving me… I thought I’d call you ‘R’. I mean, you keep calling me ‘liebling’, whatever that means.”
“My darling,” he grates out, cheeks hollowing. “You are my liebling. I will be your R. As for this… think nothing of it. Once I find my release, I’ll regain some more control. I’m sure you need to relieve yourself. I have a hot spring on my land nearby, as well, if you’d like to bathe. But, forgive me, liebling…” His pace picks up, his breath coming a little harder than before. “I must do this now.”
Think nothing of it? Poor Ruprecht. He just confessed that I’m the first female he’s seen in who knows how long. Not only that, but he has this idea that I was meant to find him. And instead of making a move to be intimate with me, he’s spent the morning with his hand… including now, when I’m barely a few feet away from me.
And, from the sound of it, he’s been taking himself in hand more than a few times since I fell asleep in his bed.
Think nothing of it? As if I can .
My gaze can’t help but follow the motion of his arm, but the tabletop blocks me seeing anything that’s going on beneath it. I’m not so pervy that I’ll duck to get a peek without his consent, but, oh, is the urge there.
Ruprecht’s brows furrows. “I’m sorry, my Josie. I was trying to be discreet.”
“Don’t be,” I whisper. “I want to see.”
“Are you certain? You don’t know what restraint you are asking if you are playing with me.”
Am I sure? Never looking away from Ruprecht, I pick up my mug. I take another swallow, making sure he sees me do it, then set the mug down.
My voice ringing with truth, I tell him boldly, “I want to see.”