Page 26 of Naughty

"I want to hate you. I truly do, but you having a mate is more punishment than even I can inflict on you."

Groaning, I rub my eyes and shake my head.

"I don't even know if she wants me."

He slaps me across the back, nearly sending me flying into the snow.

"I caught a glimpse of your play space. Something tells me you'll be able to convince her." He sobers for a moment. "Something you do need to know, though. I was able to get her scent. It's too similar to Marcus to be a coincidence. Once she was away from him, her scent would have come through. There were traces of him in there. I wish I could say for certain, but my nose doesn't lie. If she's not his daughter, she's a close relative."

Despite the somber news, I still can't help but crack a smile.

"See, you are a bloodhound."

"And you're still an ass."

Shaking his head, Asmon starts the trek back to Northport. I long to join him. The need to hold Noel in my arms again nearly drives me mad, but there's something else that needs to be done.

Heading back towards the main crypt, I finger the pocket square. When Nickolas died, I never let myself truly mourn him. I was too caught up in the ramifications of being the next Santa. I pull the massive doors open and walk straight to his crypt. Maybe now I can move forward. Maybe now things will finally go as they should.

I glide my fingers around the edges of his nameplate until I find a small crevice. Taking the pocket square, I stuff it in as far as it will go. It flops over, covering his name, but that doesn't matter to me. I'll always know where to find him. I kiss my fingertips and lay them against the part of the plate that's still visible.

Walking over to my father's, I just stand there for a moment, trying to process the feelings going through me. Grief flows up to the surface, and I let it flow out of me. Tears pour from my eyes, and hacking sobs catch in my throat. I don't even pay attention to the time. I stand there until there's nothing left in me.

My eyes throb and feel like they're about to pop out of my sockets, but I feel free. For the first time since Nickolas's death, I can finally move on. With a smile on my face, I leave the crypt and head to Northport.

The elves still bustle about, doing their jobs as if no major upheaval just happened. I shake my head, shame filling my gut as I realize I didn't even acknowledge the hard work they do for me. That's certainly going to change. First, I have my own elf to attend to.

Quickening my pace, I first duck my head into my study, not at all shocked to find Asmon and Caitlin still in there. He sits in my chair with her curled up in his lap. They both look over the ancient book. Smiling at the scene, I ease my way out to ensure I don't disturb them.

My heart pounds as I walk the last few steps to my room. Knowing Asmon, he would have put her into my bedroom and not the play space. He would strangle me if I made Mama Gloria attend to her in my sex dungeon. Before I open the door, I finger the vial, a feeling of unease filling my gut.

It's so out of the ordinary to feel so unsure about anything, and this is the biggest moment of all. If she says no...I shake my head, not allowing myself to even think that. I have to envision the win. Easing the door open, I look over at my bed. Her small form looks almost swamped by all the covers. I ease my way over and stare down at her for several moments before slipping the vial out and resting in on the nearby nightstand.

Unable to resist, I reach out and slide my fingers through her hair. Mine. The voice reverberates through my skull. Closing my eyes, I send some magic back into her. My heart thumps loudly in my chest as her eyes flutter open. Who will I find when she wakes up? Will she still be under Marcus's power?

"Master Claus?"

Her voice is so thin, so soft. My heart aches to hear it. She feels so fragile and unsure. I force myself to pull away and stand back, so she doesn't feel crowded.

"Is Master Marcus gone?"

I nod, watching her closely. The relief on her face is enough to convince me that she's free of him, but then, it could all be an act.

"What do you remember?"

Sorrow fills her eyes, and she blinks them as she looks away.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say those awful things to you. He forced me to drink his concoction. I -."

Unable to resist any longer, I swoop down and capture her lips with my own. Her startled squeak sends blood pulsing in my veins. I angle my neck to deepen the kiss, relishing in her petal-soft lips. She groans against me, threading her fingers through my hair.

With a soft growl, I pull away and gently tug on her hair to pull her head back. I nip at the exposed skin. My soul roars in satisfaction as I clutch her closer to me, wanting to be as deep into her as I possibly can. Pulling back, I stare deep into her eyes, sussing out whether or not she's actually here with me. I tilt her head up and grasp her chin in between my thumb and index finger. Her eyes look a little glazed, but other than that, she seems to be herself.

"How do I know he's still not controlling you?"

Her delicate fingers encircle my wrists. Smiling up at me, she brings up her hand as if to touch my cheek, then pulls it back down. I need her touch. I need to know she's mine. Grabbing her hand, I lay it on my face before nuzzling into her touch.

"Earlier, he controlled my every movement. I can assure you, he'd never let me near you, let alone touch you."