The Snowmaiden, A Bride for Krampus - Jeanette Lynn Page 0,22
lost his balance, tripped, fell. When Krampus dropped back, horns cracking the ground as his head slammed backward, he just kind of passed out.
“Apples are working,” Bels said with that creepy tone that literally made my skin crawl. “I was worried he wouldn’t take the bait, his humanity still with him enough to fight the Krampus instincts.”
When I turned my head to him and just stared, the effects of his bite slowly starting to wear off and un-numb my addled brain, his eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, I’m sure you have questions. I’ll answer some of them, but while we work.” Pulling out a ring of keys, he gave them a jiggle. Unlocking the door to the Krampus’ cell, he had to work to get the door open. It was iced over in spots. With a bit of elbow grease he had it open, creaking on its hinges.
Then he was back to me, guiding me along. My feet felt like blocks of ice as I entered the beast’s cell. Everything in me was screaming for me to run. At the horrible noise I made, Bels grabbed my unblemished arm and sank his teeth fangs deep into it.
When I was once again a dolly for him to lead, the Elf walked me right inside the Krampus Shnikel’s cell, maneuvering me right over the fat hooves on thick legs sprawled out across the space.
“Over here, I think. This will do. I suppose it’s not necessary to tie you up, but the quicker we can hurry this all along and see if it works, the better.” My hands were once more tied up and then lifted over my head. This position left me completely open, vulnerable. Smoothing his hands down my arms as he released the ends of the rope he’d tied, he curled his hands and raked the short, pointed claws on the tips of his fingers down my forearms.
A soft cry left me, but it was so weak it was barely a sound. The screams in my head were louder. Gripping my chin, he smiled into my fear filled eyes. “This isn’t going to be pleasant. You’ll excuse me for hurrying things along, but I really am on a race with the clock, and I’ve got an ignorant fawn to catch up to and distract so Shnikel can waken and partake of the Snowmaiden.”
A clawed hand scraped across my cheek. It slid down my neck, past my collarbone, pressing until it hurt but leaving no more than a thin trail of blood. Down the middle of my chest that finger went, dipping over my lower belly. His other hand joined in when he got to my thighs and he scraped them down the thickest part, same as he had raked them down my forearms. My legs jerked but I was stuck, at his mercy.
“Krampus hate surprises, loud noises.” Leaning in, he whispered in my ear, “I wouldn’t make any sudden movements.” Stepping back, admiring his handiwork, he licked his fingers one by one until they were clean of the crimson tipping them. Silver eyes flushed with green and gold and he shivered. “Flesh, blood, organ meat, it never said in the old grimoire collecting dust in the archives what exactly was to be partaken of, and jingle bells knows everyone is such a tight lip about it all, but I’m sure it will be quick,” he said as if this was something I should be looking forward to. Stepping over the loudly snoring Krampus’ prone form to exit my new prison, he closed the door behind him and locked it.
Cracking his knuckles, he rolled his shoulders.
Sparing me one last glance, he tossed me a cheerful wink. Watching him stroll off, whistling a Christmas tune, that stupid whistling echoed in the large space long after he’d disappeared from my sight.
I was trapped with a Krampus. My belly dropped as time passed, I wasn’t sure how much, and that thing began to stir. Oh god.
Bels’ warnings fresh in my mind, realizing hypothermia was taking its sweet assed time doing me in first, I had some decisions to make, should any opportunities present themselves.
By the time Krampus had fully roused, I was in save my life mode. At this point, I was willing to do anything if it meant I got to keep my organs and live to see another day.
With a groan and a shake of that massive rack atop his head, the beast sat up. Three-fingered hands lifted, scratching at a scruff-lined face, and