Chapter 19
My stomach lurches into my throat, threatening to spill across the floor as I stare at Nick—the infamous Santa Claus in person.
Clara’s words slam into me, piercing my chest and clawing out my heart.
I examine Nick, noticing his piercing green eyes that sparkle in the light, the remnants of bright-red hair in his neatly trimmed beard, the color almost identical to mine.
Nick averts his gaze, his cheeks flushing as he barks out, “Get her a dressing robe. Now.”
The servants standing at the far door, whom I’ve just now noticed, disappear behind it and come back moments later.
A woman who can’t be older than her mid-twenties with short brown hair approaches me, holding out a red velvet robe with white fur lining the collar; her dark brown eyes aren’t as vacant as the woman who led me here, but she looks as if she’s lost in a dream—flickering between sleep and reality.
I reach for her, but before my fingers can touch the fabric, Kryx’s clawed hands snatch it.
He gives the woman a sidelong glance as she backs away before turning on her heel and retreating to her station.
As he approaches me, he holds the robe out so I can slide my arms in, letting it cover my shoulders.
I pull it close and tie the sash tightly around my waist to make myself feel less exposed to these strangers.
Kryx stands behind me, his knuckles brushing against my spine and spreading warmth through my body. His gentle caress calms me, giving me the strength to step toward Nick, and I lift my chin.
He watches me, taking in every feature, his eyes softening with each second that passes. “You look so much like her,” he says, his words barely above a whisper but resonating loudly in the deafening silence.
Kryx moves to my side, his arm slipping behind my back, his claws digging into the robe like an anchor. Heat radiates from him, hotter than the fire burning behind me. “What are you fucking talking about? What the fuck is going on here?” he growls, pulling me closer to his side.
“Tell him, Nick,” Clara bites, her voice trembling with pain she attempts to mask with the venom she spits. “Tell them who you really are to her.”
Nick turns and grips her by the throat, yanking her toward him. His cheeks flush from red to burgundy, the fire burning brighter in the hearth behind us. “What did you do, Clara?” His words come through his clenched teeth. “What did you fucking do?”
Clara juts out her chin as she reaches up and grabs him by the collar of his white button-down shirt.
Her grip is tight as she demonstrates her own power.
“Did you think I wouldn’t know about her, Nick?
That I wouldn’t catch on to why you disappear throughout the year?
That you would come home and seem to have no interest in our pets? In me?”
The last words are choked, but she clears her throat, straightens her spine, and maintains her composure. “Did you think I wouldn’t know when she found herself pregnant? And when she gave birth to a child with twinkling green eyes and hair as red as holly berries?”
Kryx takes a shallow breath, and I glance at him. His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open. He steps in front of me, placing himself between us. “You manipulated the list, didn’t you, Clara? You’re the reason that Evelyn was on that list the same time every fucking year.”
The Clauses’ heads snap toward him, and for the first time tonight, Clara’s eyes shine with fear.
“And you did your part perfectly, Krampus.” Her voice is smooth—a Queen addressing her wicked court.
“You took care of the problem without anyone being the wiser, breaking that disgusting little toy apart piece by piece.”
Nick’s face pales as he glances between Kryx and Clara.
“The list,” he whispers, his head snapping back to Clara, tightening his grip on her throat.
“You altered the fucking list?” The words thunder through the room, bouncing off the rafters and shaking the glasses on the table.
“How, Clara? How did you fuck with the list?”
She claws at his wrists, fighting for the air he stole from her lungs as I take a tentative step forward, pulling my trembling body away from Kryx’s grip.
Their words soak into my skin like melted snow.
I touch my hair, smoothing my hand over the red ringlets.
I blink, fighting back tears as they sting my green eyes—replicas of his.
Everything I thought I knew about my life is a lie. But I don’t know whether I should feel relieved or betrayed as I stand here, looking at the man who possibly gave me life and played a role in tearing it apart.
“You’re my father. My real father,” I rasp, interrupting their argument as I walk closer, square my shoulders, and look up at him, his massive body towering over me.
But for the first time tonight, I don’t feel fear—just a swirling mix of other emotions I can’t keep up with. “And you let her destroy my mother.”
He pushes Clara away, her body going limp and sprawling on the stone floor, gasping for air as she clutches her throat. He looks at me, his face seeming to age as his magic slips, revealing his mortal side.
He steps toward me, but Kryx positions himself between us. His teeth are bared as he grips his whip, ready to strike anyone who comes near me. “You need to explain yourself, Nick,” he growls—ever the possessive mate.
Nick gestures toward the table. “Let’s sit and—”
Kryx snaps the whip, the barbed tendril striking less than an inch from Nick’s boot. “Now, Nick.”
Nick scrubs his hand over his face, then slides it to the back of his neck.
He walks himself to the table, grabs a goblet, and drinks it all in one go.
Slamming it back down on the table, he yanks out a chair and lowers himself into it.
Gripping the arms, he seems to be holding on for dear life as his eyes meet mine.
“Eve caught me one Christmas Eve as I was coming down the chimney,” he begins, the words scraping against his throat. “She was sleeping on the couch next to the tree, and I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there.”
I don’t speak as I take a seat across from him, filling my own goblet with wine and trying to drown myself in it.
It’s sweet, like sugarplums dancing across my tongue.
I tilt my head back, nearly finishing it in one gulp.
I stare into the goblet, half expecting it to refill itself with magic.
After a moment, I finally look back at Nick, waiting for him to continue.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he states. “I could feel her beating heart as it matched with mine, cracking my ice-cold soul like a warm spring morning.” He looks at Kryx from where he stands behind me. “A part of me lit up like it never had before, and I couldn’t stay away.”
A door slams across the room, and we all turn to look at it, as Clara has left. She no longer wants to hear the man she loves confess his love for someone else, with Jack gone long ago.
“She never told me she was pregnant,” he says with profound sorrow.
“She only told me that I could no longer come around and that she had to end things, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her.
I came back week after week and watched as her belly rounded, ignoring the pull in my chest that nearly brought me to my knees. ”
He looks at me, his eyes now silver rimmed. “I would have never thought…” He trails off, lowering his face into his hands, shuddering in a breath.
“But why keep sending Kryx to punish her?” I ask, the answer already lingering in the air. “She’s fallen ill and isn’t herself anymore.” My throat burns, tears pricking behind my eyes.
“If I had known...” He trails off again, quietly clearing his throat.
“She should never have been on the list. I don’t know how Clara did it, but it’s clear that she found out about my.
.. affair.” His gaze shifts to Kryx. “She knew that you wouldn’t be able to deny the list and would have no choice but to carry out her punishment.
She’s been altering the list for years.”
My heart aches as the knot tightens in my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs.
I have always wondered what caused her to decline so rapidly, to find herself losing her thoughts and living in a constant state of confusion.
One of the things I have worked so hard for is a discreet way to pay for her in-home care so that she can stay in her own home.
She made them move the bed to the living room, put the Christmas tree up year-round, with her eyes fixed on the fireplace.
I’ve tried to get her to move into an assisted living facility, where she could still maintain her independence but receive help from staff when needed.
However, she refuses, saying that if she leaves the house, she’ll never be found again.
She has been telling me that for years, repeating it as a mantra when she starts to spiral.
It never made sense until this very moment.
“She’s waiting for you.” The words sound flat, and the knot in my chest keeps me hostage. “It’s why she has refused to leave my childhood home and has moved her things to the living room. She’s waiting for you.” The last word bites, snapping at Nick’s face as he jerks back in his seat.
“Your wife’s scheme has driven her to madness. It eroded her mind, and the only thing keeping her here is her strong belief in you—believing you will come back to her.” The knot in my chest begins to loosen, releasing a flood of emotions like a stampede.
“Kryx might have been the one doling out her punishments, but you’re the one killing her.
You have to fucking let her go, Nick.” The words come out as a scream, hot tears falling down my face as my fists slam onto the tabletop.
I stand, the chair scraping the floor beneath me, my chest heaving with every breath as a large hand gently grips my shoulder.
“He can’t,” Kryx says softly, a catch in his voice.
I turn, looking up at him as my face grows hot, rage bubbling beneath my skin. “And why the fuck not?”
Kryx’s hands cup my chin, gently tilting it toward him. His face is stern, his eyes burning with an unending fire. “Because, little vixen, he is bound to her... through you.”
“Me? What do I have to do with this?”
He looks at Nick, who stays slumped in his seat, hands covering his face like the coward he is. “They’re connected through you—the child of two star-crossed lovers, binding their souls as one.”
I shake my head and pull away from his grip. “Then be with her,” I snap, turning toward Nick. “By being apart and leading her on, you’re fucking killing her!”
“I can’t,” he breathes, his voice muffled from behind his hands.
“Yes, you fucking can, you selfish prick.” The words pour from my lips, anger boiling over. "If you can bring other people here as playthings, then you can fucking bring her here as your soulmate instead of letting her suffer.”
Nick raises his head, his mouth set in a grim line. But even his sharp, immortal features seem to dull, blur at the edges, and appear to age him as if he’s human again.
Kryx wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. My back warms against him as he lowers his head, breathing me in. “He might be able to bring her here,” he says into my hair, “but that won’t save her.”
“I don’t understand.” A sob wracks through me, making my body tremble. “Why? Why won’t it save her?”
After his long silence, Nick finally speaks, his voice turning hoarse. “Because my bargain won’t allow it, as my soul is already bound to Clara’s for eternity. And even if we found a loophole, a way to make her whole again, Clara wouldn’t let her live in the North Pole—let alone this castle.”
My heart falls from my chest, splattering at my feet.
My mother fell in love with a bargained soul, one she can never have, and despite that, she created me—a bastard child of a soulless demon and an angel on Earth.
“There has to be a way,” I sob, the words tearing through me as I drop my head into my hands. “There has to be a way to help her.”
Kryx stiffens behind me, cold air brushing my back as he steps away. “Maybe there is,” he says lowly. Without another word, he rips open a portal and steps through, watching as it quickly closes behind him, leaving me alone with the Saint—my father.