Page 15 of His Winter Wonderland

Of course, this would make Vicky happy. In all things, the demon spirit had to be victorious. Unlike the demon, Winter was created to be a killer, yet, she had a conscience. And now that she’d done the deed, that conscience was screaming one word at her.

Monster!

Over and over, it repeated that word. Winter covered up her ears, but that didn’t stop her from hearing the word. She dropped to her knees in the snow. She couldn’t even feel the damp cold seeping through her pants.

“I’m not a monster,” she whispered, then tilted her head back and screamed it louder. “I’m not a monster.”

Bats took flight from the nearby trees. There wings fluttered above her as they raced away from her. The demon inside of her wasn’t sated yet. It didn’t care that she was having a small breakdown. It had been awakened and now it wanted blood.

“You’ve done well, but you can do better,” Vicky growled.

Darkness swirled around her. With tears streaming down her face, Winter raised her hand and called for their deaths. They were small creatures, no match for her power. Their necks broke and they fell from the sky. They landed in a circle around her kneeling form. Their blood coated the snow around her.

Winter stared at the bloody scene she’d created. This wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this. And it wouldn’t be the last. She was Winter, the Goddess of War. Destruction was all she knew. The version of her in dreamland wasn’t real. Neither was the male she loved.

They didn’t exist. The only thing that existed was her, the monster. The creature who was created to be unfeeling. And even when she tried to feel, it always ended badly, for others. That was the true definition of a monster.

“Only when you’re too far gone,” her spirit animal, War, told her. “If you would’ve let me attack the enemy. I wouldn’t have needed more. But you let Vicky raise her ugly head. And now you’re having a breakdown.”

“Ugly?” Vicky growled. “I’m far from ugly. Without me, the two of you would’ve died a long time ago. You need me.”

“Enough,” Winter shouted. “My head hurts. Your arguing is just making it worse.”

All her life she’d been cursed to have two separate spirits dwelling within her. She should’ve gotten used to their arguing by now. She hadn’t. Never would. Winter pushed herself to her feet. She was tired. She just wanted to complete her exchange and got home. She walked over to her fur coat that she’d draped over a tree stump to keep it safe.

Droplets of blood were splattered over the pink fur. Winter sighed then checked the vial inside the coat pocket. It hadn’t broken. Great. At least one thing had gone according to plan tonight. Winter put the vial back in the pocket then slipped the coat on. She knelt down and scooped up a handful of snow that wasn’t splattered with blood.

A whispered spell caused the snow to melt. She used it to wash her hands clean of blood. Then she repeated the spell on more snow and used it to clean her face, hoping she was making herself look more presentable. If her friend, and client, Silvia, saw her like this, she would worry about her.

She already worried about her living so far away from others. This would just make her nag Winter more each time she saw her. After she was done cleaning her hands and face, she stood and stared up at the sky. All was once again quiet in the Frostlands.

After being in this place for so long, after living on her own for so long, and distancing herself from her sisters and the council, she still hadn’t changed much. She was still just like them. She still refused to listen to the council of her familiar. She still allowed her anger to take over and unleash the demonic spirit within her.

Though she was trying not to live up to her sisters’ predictions, she was trying not to go running back to them, she knew if she kept this up, she’d unleash Vicky fully and the demon would want to be reunited with its demonic counterparts. She’d given the demon spirit the name Vicky, short for victorious, to make it seem less evil.

There was nothing evil about wanting to be victorious. She’d given her leopard the name War, to make the thought of war seem less evil. Her familiar was vicious and deadly, but it wasn’t evil. It was a huntress, a survivor. It would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even kill. But it didn’t kill without reason.

Referring to it as War, made her think of war as a necessity. Yet no matter what she called them, it didn’t change them, it didn’t change what they were capable of or what they were created to do. Just like no matter what she was called herself, Winter or Monster, she was still the same.

It didn’t change who she was or what she was created to do. She was still a Goddess of Destruction. And bad things always happened to those around her. Which was why she wanted to quickly deliver this potion and return to the seclusion of her cabin. If she remained alone, isolated, no one would get hurt. That way the only one who had to suffer, was her.

And she deserved it.

***

Not again!

She hadn’t walked another mile before her senses picked up on something. Another assailant! Two in one night. Had she won the lottery? Or had she lost a bet? Either way there was something different about this one.

Winter paused near a tree and pretended to check her boots. The scent in the air was different. The feel in the atmosphere was different. Even her inner demon and familiar were on high alert for this one.

“Assassin,” her demon purred. “I can smell the enchanted ink the council used on the paper they issued him with his task on it. The Council of Wrath has sent another assassin to kill you. If you’d just return to the Citadel and join our sisters….”

“Silence,” Winter commanded Vicky. Returning to the Citadel was not an option for her. On the day she’d left them behind and given up the title of Decider, she’d told them she’d never return. And they’d predicted she would. They’d told her dead or alive, they would have her back.

After a few months of them sending scrolls to her, ordering her to return didn’t work, they decided they wanted her back dead. After that, the assassins started showing up. For that reason, she couldn’t say she was surprised to see this one. Why hadn’t he attacked yet? Was he waiting for an invitation?

Maybe he was sizing her up. Winter ran her fingers through her hair, combing her long dark tresses to the back. She then braided her hair into two pigtails. Best to wrap these around themselves so they’re not dangling. Even though her opponent was a male, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t resort to pulling hair.