Birch & Bone

The Price: Sloane

My feet hit the floor, but my knees felt like water. I reached out, steadying myself against Kaspar’s - no, the Krampus’s - chest. His fur was coarse, but surprisingly soft, like thick velvet, and the heat radiating from him was the only thing keeping me from shattering into a million pieces.

I looked around the room. It was magnificent and terrifying. My eyes settled back on him. Ten feet of predatory grace. His horns were ivory and obsidian, twisting toward the ceiling like the branches of a lightning-struck oak. His face was no longer the ruggedly handsome man from the tavern. Now it was sharper, more angular. His ears peaked slightly and his amber eyes glowed in a way that felt like he could see right through my skin and into the marrow of my bones.

“Is this where you kill me?” I asked, and I was proud that my voice didn’t shake.

“Is that what you want, Sloane?” He leaned down, the sheer mass of him blocking out the light from the fire. One of his claws caught the edge of my scarf, slowly unraveling it. “Do you want the end of your story to be a tragedy?”

“I want the truth,” I said, my voice quivering only slightly. My heart drummed a rhythm I could feel in my throat. “You said there was a price, but that my sin wasn’t black or white. So tell me why I’m here. Why me?”

He dropped my scarf on the floor. His hand lifted, his palm the size of my face, and settled on my throat. His thumb rested over my pulse point. He didn’t squeeze, but the threat was there. The terrifying, delicious power of it.

“Because you didn’t look away,” he whispered. “Because when I looked into your soul at the ropes, I didn’t see a victim. I saw a mirror. You carry a darkness, Sloane. You walked your grandmother to the edge of an abyss and you didn’t flinch. You are a creature of the threshold, like me.”

He stepped closer, forcing me back until I hit the massive bed. Momentum worked against me as I fell, sitting on the edge.

“You aren’t here for me to kill,” her growled, his eyes darkening until the amber was nearly eclipsed by black. “You are here because the mountain has been demanding a Queen of the Long Night, and I? I demand you.”

He reached for the hem of my sweater, his claws grazing my stomach. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through me that made my toes curl. I should have run. I should have been screaming for help. But as I looked up at the monster, all I could think about was how much I wanted to know what those claws would feel like against my skin. I wanted to know if the heat in him could burn away the cold, heavy guilt I’d been carrying.

“Then show me,” I challenged, reaching up and finding the hard, muscled line of his arms. “Show me the reckoning, Kaspar.”

The growl he let out wasn’t one of warning. It was of triumph.

He didn’t hesitate. With one swift, controlled movement, he tugged my sweater over my head and tossed it into the shadows. The sudden bite of the cavern air on my skin lasted only a second before his heat filled the space between us. I shivered, but not from the cold.

His massive hands returned to me, tracing the lines of my collarbones. The contrast was intoxicating - the lethal, black points of his claws skimmed my skin with the lightness of a feather while the heavy, burning weight of his palms pressed me back into the furs.

“You are so fragile,” he rumbled, his voice vibrating through my spine. “A single lapse in my control, and I would break you, Sloane.”

“Then don’t lapse,” I breathed, my hands sliding up his arms, burying my fingers in the thick fur. It felt primal. It felt right. “Or do. I’m tired of being handled like I’m made of glass.”

A dark, predatory look flashed in his eyes. He leaned over me, his massive frame eclipsing everything. His mouth moved to my neck, and I expected the sharp sting of teeth. Instead, I felt the wet, hot slide of his tongue across my pulse point, followed by the softest nip of fang.

I let out a sound I didn’t recognize. It was a low, desperate whimper of a plea.

His claws found the waistband of my jeans, and with a flick of his wrist the metal button popped and flew somewhere into the dark. He didn’t rush. He stripped the denim away with a slow, agonizing deliberation. His amber eyes never left mine. He watched for fear. Regret. He found neither.

When I was finally bare beneath him, the sheer scale of the difference between us became a physical weight. He was a creature of myth. Bone, muscle, and ancient heat. I was just skin and bone, and a heart pounding against my chest like the wings of a hummingbird.

He moved between my legs, his heavy, furred thighs pushing mine apart. The texture was coarse against my skin, a constant reminder of exactly what he was. His massive hands ran along my body. “I will burn the guilt out of you, little sinner,” he whispered. “I will fill every hollow space your grief left behind until there is nothing left in you but me.”

I looked up at the jagged ivory of his horns, the terrifying beauty of his face, and the ancient hunger in his eyes. “Burn it,” I challenged, my voice already ragged, on the edge of desire. “Burn it all away.”

I knew this wasn’t what I was supposed to want. I knew that a smarter girl would’ve left the tavern with her friends. But as his long tongue slid out between his lips and my breath caught again, I knew this was exactly what I’d wanted all along. Every time Eden and I joked about hooking up with a local while they were still in costume, what I’d really wanted to experience was the real thing.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows to watch as he knelt between my legs. My eyes fluttered shut the moment I felt the wet heat of his tongue sliding through my folds. His hands gripped my hips, claws resting against my skin but never piercing. My head fell back, a soft, low moan escaping as his tongue flicked over my c**t. My reaction drew a groan out of him, the sound vibrating through my entire body.

I gasped and panted, making myself look down my body at him. Our eyes locked as his tongue circled my entrance before plunging in. I gasped and moaned louder this time, finally falling back flat on the mattress this time. His hand slid up my body, cupping my breast. His thumb rubbed a circle over my n****e and I made more sounds I didn’t recognize.

My back arched off the bed, my hips grinding against him. He devoured me, his tongue relentless. I felt every muscle in my body coil tightly, my toes curling. Just as I was about to tip over the edge, he stopped.

I whimpered, but he wasn’t finished. He crawled up the bed. His hand caught my wrists and pinned them above my head. Our eyes met again as he sank into me. It wasn’t the tentative start of a human lover. It was an invasion.

I cried out, my head falling back as a white hot wave of sensation shattered my remaining defenses. He was too large, too hot, too much, and yet it was exactly what I had been craving.

The reckoning had begun, and as Kaspar began to move, I realized I didn’t just want to survive the long night. I wanted to own it.