by Poppy Rhys
I exhaled, setting my pen down. “Come in!”
My students burst into chatter and cheers.
“You rock, Ms. Zax!”
“Best. Teacher. Ever.”
“Bring on the elves!”
For a split second, my chest felt warm at their excitement—excitement I’d once felt on Elves’ Day—
Then the door opened, and George popped his head into my classroom.
Frost crackled and stretched over my thawing heart, freezing it once more.
“Holly?”
I hated it when he called me by my first name.
“Did I hear you say, ‘come in’?” His brows knit together above his matching brown eyes, his equally brown hair perfectly combed into place.
Brown. Neutral. Boring. Words I told myself to make him less attractive in my head.
“Yes, Principal Huckle, I did. Bring in the elves.”
Did I forget to mention George was now my boss?
Yep.
Along with a shiny fiancée, he got a promotion.
Escaping this guy was nearly impossible.
Tried to tell myself I’d dodged a bullet. I could’ve been Holly Huckle. A terrible name.
“O-oh. Okay. Great.” He stammered, clearly surprised I was allowing the elves into my class this year.
You and me both.
Maybe Dr. Molina was right, though. My students didn’t break my heart—George had. They shouldn’t have to suffer my inner Scrooge.
I tucked that away, or tried to, as a horde of elves flooded into my classroom which suddenly smelled like cloves and sugared cranberries.
Their high-pitched voices chattered and giggled as they danced through the aisles, handing out their expertly wrapped gifts. I was so distracted by the event, I hadn’t noticed George sneak his way to my desk until he spoke.
“How’re you doing, Holly?”
I lifted my eyes to where he leaned comfortably against my desk, like we did this every day. Like he genuinely cared.
I hated that about him.
Didn’t matter who he spoke to or what he’d done, he always seemed genuine.
It fucked me up every time because I wanted to believe it. That skill he’d honed perfectly had made me so blind to his infidelity.
“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”
He smiled, that dimple in his left cheek deepening. That smile had once made my frozen heart do ridiculous things. Now it was just annoyingly uneven. “I’m so glad to hear that. And the family’s doing well?”
My family had loved George. He’d won them over almost instantly. If he hadn’t dumped me in front of them—at the annual Christmas party, I might add—they probably would’ve never believed we were over.
That memory still fucking stung.
My teeth clenched, and it took a shit-ton of willpower to not tell George to get out of my classroom. “They’re great.”
“Perfect. So, hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Ugh. Please go away.
I couldn’t look at his stupid dimple anymore. I didn’t want him leaning on my desk. I didn’t want to smell his overpowering woodsy cologne.
I wanted him gone.
Yet a fractured shard of me wanted him to stay.
I’d never felt so ridiculous. Flushing toilets was better than this.
“Perry—” his fiancée, “told me your Krampus can’t make it to the Kringle Parade this year. I just wanted to let you know I’d be happy to fill in for him.”
“What?” This was news to me.
George cocked his head. “You didn’t know?”
Thanks for telling me, Perry, you twat.
“Err, n-no.”
Fuck my life.
Shit.
The Kringle Parade was only a week away. The Krampus float was the highlight for every adult woman in Tinsel. They loved flirting with Krampus and getting playful spanks from his bundle of branches.
This parade was my Evergreen Queen responsibility. I couldn’t let it suck. I only had two more winters on my contract and I would not be known as the queen who screwed up the Kringle Parade.
Evergreen Queen was a winter solstice pageant in Tinsel. Every little girl hoped to be an Evergreen Queen one day—including me, so long ago. It was just a thing in this town.
I’d won it when I was twenty. I’d been so damn happy that year. I’d worn my crown and evergreen sash every year during the parade, as it was another caveat of the contract—a contract that lasted fifteen years.
Fifteen years of Evergreen Queen service was required after winning. This committee of queens had their fingers in every winter solstice event that took place in Tinsel.
“Well, don’t worry, Holls,” George said, patting my shoulder and pulling me out of my head. “You always did improvise like a pro. Let me know if I can help.”
My shoulder instantly itched and tingled like I’d worn a sweater that was too scratchy and before I could tell him to go away, he turned and left.
“Ms. Zax?”
My gaze darted to the elf waiting in front of my desk in her fur-trimmed dress. Her jolly green skin, pointed ears, and galaxy eyes were immediate indications that this person wasn’t human, but an alien.
It seemed every folklore story in human history had seeds of truth and ties to non-human species.
“Yes?”
“I’m Nankino, the elvshkin, but you can call me Nan,” she grinned, her flat teeth human-like. “We have a gift for you this year!”
“I—no, thank you.” I looked around the room, watching my students play with their gifts and chatter to each other in the animated ways kids often do.
“But I insist,” she urged, holding out a palm-sized cube wrapped in red paper. “You must take it. I can’t return without an empty gift bag.” She held up her small striped sack, similar to the ones all the other elves carried.
I frowned, not wanting to participate in any of this. And George was still taking up space in my brain. Like I’d ever want him to play Krampus for the Kringle Parade. Bah!
“You can’t give it to someone else?”
“It’s special, for you.” Again, Nan held out the cube, her pretty, star-filled eyes pleading.
Begrudgingly, I took it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t light, but had some substance and weight to it. I placed it in my desk drawer.
“Thank you.” Nan smiled and skipped away, the rest of the elves shortly following.
“Alright class, put your toys away. This quiz isn’t going to finish itself.”
I sat back, ignoring the disgruntled groans of my students as my head swam.
What the hell was I going to do about this year’s parade?
FOUR
KYE
Everything was black.
I felt the cold, I felt my physical existence, but this waking was different. I was blinded by darkness.
My prison had never been dark before. Cold, yes. The snow crunched beneath my hooves even now. Darkness, no.
A new punishment cooked up by the witch?
I could hear voices, far away. Muffled. My concept of time was limited in this prison.
If I were awake, it was the last stretch of the year. My people had many names for it, but a solstice was what the berchta preferred—the witches who imprisoned me.
A cruel purgatory. Put in stasis, I didn’t age, I didn’t feel time, I didn’t dream.
Only once a year was I conscious, and at the most torturous time. Torturous since I had to spend it alone or in the presence of a berchta during a season when my people would celebrate with feasts, gift giving, and merriment.
And then, when it was all over and the new year was ushered in, I’d be sucked back here, into this frozen hell, only to lose time again.
How long had I been imprisoned? I’d lost count after the first one-hundred wakes.
A shredding sound interrupted my thoughts. Immediately a shard of light lit my prison. An endless, empty, frozen desert. I’d run it many times, all l
eading right back to where I started.
Berchta magic.
I squinted, staring upward.
“Witch...” I growled.
I saw her like a mirage in the strip of blue sky of this prison. Fair skin with freckles that matched the deep red of her curling hair. The skin above her nose wrinkled as she looked toward me.
“A paperweight? Seriously?”
Her voice. A smoky tone that made the skin at the base of my horns grow warm.
My lip curled over my fangs in disgust at that. Her voice and the features of her heart-shaped face might be pleasing, but she was still a berchta, evidenced by her pine green eyes.
That they didn’t have their tell-tale green glow was no matter. Probably another trick.
Never trust a berchta.
This one was new. New to me. I’d already been passed down thrice. My prison entrusted from one witch to the next.
Each waking, the berchta grew older and older, until one waking, I’d see a fresh face. A daughter of the old one.
But that didn’t make sense. The previous witch was still young last waking.
Had the curse changed? Did I miss more time? Had the last witch unexpectedly died?
More of my prison illuminated with the crinkling of paper until everything was back to my version of normal.
“The elves’ gifts aren’t as creative as they used to be,” the witch murmured, inspecting my prison. “How odd...”
What does she mean?
Which elves?
With another scowl, she was gone. The opening in the sky giving me a view of a white-washed peaked ceiling with dark wooden beams crossing it.
I could hear her still. This was normal. My prison always remained open during the waking, like a door into the physical world.
It didn’t matter. I was still tethered to this place, even if I wasn’t in it.
Berchta magic made it impossible to escape. An invisible rope only let me venture so far before I was sucked back here.
Rage boiled up inside me, but it simmered like a pot of water that needed more heat.
It was the damper. I could never feel full-fledged emotions in this place no matter how hard I tried. Another perk of leaving my prison during the waking; I’d get to experience every feeling to the fullest.
Bet that made the witches cackle every damn time. Especially when they got to snatch it away from me at the end of every waking.
Not this time.
I had plans. Plans I’d been stewing on for a handful of wakings.
This time the witch is going to pay.
I bided my time, waiting for the ceiling to go dark, the lights out, before I left the prison and entered the witch’s dwelling.
My bones and muscles yawned, thawing in the heated abode, and my emotions weighed on me. Gushing through my veins like a fast injection of awareness I’d been lacking.
Elation quickly got swept aside by my ire and need for revenge. This witch might have me beat in the end, but I’d make her suffer while I could.
My ears twitched, listening. I could hear her moving around as I crept through a darkened kitchen, skirting through an adjacent living space.
I sniffed the air, scenting something peculiar. Another being? No, it had a subtle odor that smelled of animal.
“Skully, come.”
I halted, sinking to the floor behind a large couch. It smelled of her. The air around me was drenched in her scent. Something soft and deep, like the spiced icing on the fervena cakes my people made.
The pitter-patter of a multi-legged critter tapped along the wooden floors, drawing closer until it peaked its fluffy head around the edge of the couch and stared directly at me.
Immediately, I bared my fangs, my growl so low, I doubted the witch could hear it, but the critter did.
It whined and backtracked, scampering away.
“Skully?”
A light turned on. The shaft of light stretching past the couch, just ahead.
Come closer, witch.
Her shadow grew taller, closer, the soft sound of footsteps closing in.
FIVE
HOLLY
“What’s wrong boy?” Skully scuttled right by me, hightailing it to my room and squeezing his giant self under the bed.
That was... odd.
Not gonna lie, an uneasy feeling crept up my arms. The sho-sha didn’t spook often.
Just to be on the safe side, I curled my fingers around the baseball bat tucked in the hallway closet.
Maybe I was being paranoid. Someone would have to be pretty stupid to break into this place. Three of my cousins were weight-lifting champs and enjoyed knocking people around for fun.
Clip-clip-creak.
I froze. The creak of a floorboard easily recognizable, but whatever that other noise was, I couldn’t identify.
I scrunched my nose, a strange odor wafting toward me. Cool citrus and peppermint.
What the—
Just beyond the light, something rushed me.
“AHH!” I screamed and swung my bat, the hairy giant in front of me getting a solid thump.
It grunted, rubbing its arm and blocking my next swing. My heart beat in my throat, choking me, and I swallowed hard.
The low light played across its face and I immediately knew it was a he.
I backtracked, half frozen but unable to turn my back to the intruder.
“W-who are you?!” I tugged on my bat to no avail. His grip was so tight I feared he’d crush the thing, but I couldn’t let it go. It was the only weapon I had. “I’ll call the police. Leave! Now!”
His glare was piercing as he took a step forward.
I took another step back, swearing under my breath that I’d given this intruder more room.
I didn’t know what he was. Not human, I knew that much. He stepped farther into the light, his bone-colored horns illuminated and larger than I imagined.
He was larger than I imagined. So much of him had been hidden in the shadows. Not anymore.
No sir.
Gray and white fur covered just about every inch of his massive frame, but I could still see dips and valleys along his thick arms, legs, and torso that spoke of muscle.
This guy could easily knock someone’s head off.
Knock my head off.
And I’d just threatened to call the police.
But why was he naked?
My stomach knotted.
“I won’t go down easy if you’re thinking of using—” my eyes inadvertently dipped down to his cock, hanging there in all its monstrous glory among the shorter fur. “I’ll kick you so hard, you’ll be coughing up your balls.”
He let go of the bat and I stumbled back into the wall. Hadn’t realized I’d been pulling on it so hard.
“I won’t hurt you, witch.”
He spoke. He understood everything I said.
...Did he just call me witch?
Excuse me?
“Witch?” Triggered, I held the bat aloft, ready to swing again, uncaring if he caught it or not. “You break into my home, scare my Skully, and then insult me?”
I swung the bat again, getting in a wallop on his leg. “I’ll take out your knees, motherfucker!”
He growled—growled!—at me, barely flinching.
This wasn’t the day. I’d been doing good. I’d hung a snowflake up for elves-sake! I decorated for Christmas!
An insulting intruder wasn’t on my advent calendar, dammit!
“Help!” I shrieked, attempting to hit him again, hoping semi-deaf aunt Helen across the hall would hear. “Someone he—”
I went flying.
Flying to the floor.
And I wasn’t alone.
The intruder landed on top of me, hand over my mouth, and the air flattened out of my body under his weight.
I couldn’t scream for help if I tried. It was a struggle to just breathe.
“Yer smuff-catim mmm!”
“Shh!” he hushed me, and I scowled so fucking hard I wasn’t sure
my forehead would ever be the same.
His grip over my mouth tightened, but his weight eased up enough that I could finally take a much-needed breath. His pointed, suede-like ears twitched as if listening.
Nothing but pure silence.
Aunt Helen hadn’t heard me. Nor anyone else for that matter.
Whoever this guy was, he burned like a furnace. His incredibly soft, thick fur brushed against my skin like buttery down. I imagined he’d feel so good to smoosh up against on the coldest winter nights.
I noticed it a little too much right now. My deep breaths pushed my chest against his, and I’d removed my bra long ago. Only my flimsy cami separated my nipples from this alien.
My nipples that were suddenly rock hard and scraping against his chest with every pull of air I took.
Fuck my life.
He even smelled fantastic. Like oranges and candy canes and warm fur.
I groaned, hating myself, and he peered down at me.
Shit.
“Geeet uff mmm.”
“What?”
I exaggeratedly darted my eyeballs down toward his hand on my mouth then back up at him.
He grunted and, if I wasn’t mistaken, a hint of apology flashed in his red flecked turquoise eyes.
Thing was, he only removed his hand. He was still on top of me.
The uncomfortable seconds ticked as he stared at me and I stared back, my newly shallow breaths the only sound flooding my ears aside from my whooshing blood.
“Do you mind?”
“Right,” he uttered, finally rising off me. When he held out his hand, I stared at it before slapping it away.
“I’d appreciate it if you left now. I think,” I straightened my cami after standing, “you’ve overstayed your unwelcome intrusion.”
He cocked his head, appearing confused.
“What? Should I scream—”
“No,” he grumbled. “My ears are still ringing.”
I snorted, my acrid tone bubbling up. “Oh, are they? Well, how terrible for you. Should I call the doctor? Would you like a ride to the hospital? Please, let me know what I can do for you.”
“No but thank you.”
If steam could physically roll out of my nostrils right now, it would have.
“If you don’t leave, I’m really calling the police. And—” I flipped on more lights, “how the hell did you even get in here?”