Page 12 of Bagged By the Elf

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Still, if what he says is true, then he took me while I was asleep.

That makes him a criminal, someone who took away my agency.

And I’ve had enough of people messing with my life, thank you very much.



Wisely, the little human takes more broth.

The more broth she drinks, the louder she becomes.

After that brief scare when she ran away, I now find I don’t mind her pushback as much. I’m becoming accustomed to the sound of her voice in my home. Her sarcasm is growing on me, and her outrage is adorable. Ivy makes me smile.

And I’m very happy she’s not dead.

“How dare you kidnap me!”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. You were unhappy with the Frosts.”

Ivy tilts her adorable head to the side, studying me. “Are you for real? Anybody would be unhappy. A cactus would die of neglect under their supervision. They could gaslight the world’s biggest narcissist. Of course I was unhappy.”

I study her for a moment as a signal goes off inside my brain that perhaps replying that I don’t see the problem is a bad idea.

We stare at each other for a long moment. Her throat bobs where it’s visible above the fur blanket. Her skin looks flushed and healthy once more; the broth did its work.

“I am sorry that I brought you here against your will. But I will not be returning you to those people.” My words come out more forcefully than intended, but my brave Ivy does not shrink away from me. I like that. I would hate to think that I frighten her when I’m stern with her.

She seems to be mulling over her options. It gives me time to steal glances at her hair, still damp from the melted snow, and the way it clings to her delicate throat. Ivy looks so sweet and vulnerable in my bed.

She pouts. If she knew how badly I’d love to bite that lip.

Do humans enjoy biting? I don’t know.

I don’t want to say what I’m about to say, but the compassion for this human being is strong. “I will…return you to America if you wish. Where would you like me to take you?”

It seems that I’m not the only person who is stealing glances. I catch Ivy’s gaze drifting over my body like a caress. I ache for her, but I will let her go if necessary.

She bites her bottom lip, and I fight against the growl this triggers deep in my chest. “This might be the stupidest thing to admit to a magical stranger, but I have nowhere else to go.”

I should not be happy about this fact. Yet my baser instincts feel justified in taking possession of this woman.

“Then do you wish to stay here?”

She snorts. “Do I have a choice? It’s a blizzard out there. Unless you can magic me back home.”

“You do have a choice,” I say, nodding. “What do you wish?”

Ivy sighs, and her shoulders slump dejectedly. “As much as my mind doesn’t want to accept that any of this is what you say it is, that Santa’s real, I…don’t want to be alone on Christmas.”

I do not like this.

And yet the pain in my chest settles. She’ll stay, then.

Another long moment passes, and her eyes travel over my body, pausing briefly on the erection that I know is evident through this utility kilt and long tunic.