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And now, I’m sitting in front of a fire, drinking tea at freaking Santa Claus’s house. I’m also wearing an assortment of items that some so-called Uncommon Elves delivered upon my arrival at Saint Nick’s house: a cozy, thick robe, a long silky tunic, warm leggings, luxurious socks and gorgeous fur-lined boots. I admit it, I don’t hate it here. Certainly fresh clothes and human company have boosted my mood.
Clara has listened to me vent my entire story, and now she has questions. “…So he told you that you were his mate before he…well, before he slept with you.”
I nod. “‘Slept’ is not quite accurate, but yes.”
“Honey, he gave you way more notice than Eldrin did with me.”
Eldrin, from what I’ve gathered, was the birth name of the dude who’s now Santa Claus. I’m just taking everything at face value because if I think too hard about it all, my head will explode.
“He did?”
She nods and sips her tea, and I sip mine. Dang, this is good tea. What does she do to it?
“Eldrin informed me I was his mate about five minutes after we did the deed. I was pretty pissed. But I got over it fast.”
“How? How did you get over it?”
She shrugs. “Because the human world is a dumpster fire. Here, everything is snow and sugar and cream. Easy peasy.”
Clara sees me blush at her words and winks. “Yeah. That part is pretty good, too.”
I cover my eyes.
“Honestly, could you ever go back after that?”
I think for about half a second. “No,” I laugh.
“You could demand that he take you home. He may have kidnapped you, but these guys are just giant teddy bears despite their arrogant exterior. He’ll take you home if you have something there you really want to get back to.”
I think about this and drink my tea.
“Okay, you have to tell me how you made this. I can’t stand Cyran’s tea.”
Clara laughs. “Oh, it’s spiked with mountain troll whiskey. That’s the only way we humans can stomach it.”
As we’re laughing about this, who should burst through the door unannounced but Cyran.
“Ivy! You have to listen to me.”
“Cyran? Knock much?”
“Almost never,” he says, kneeling down in front of me. “I have to talk to you.”
Clara sets down her tea and stands up, stretching. “Good talk, girlfriend. I look forward to many, many more.” She pats me on the shoulder as she walks out the door and into the snowy village outside.
I stand up as Cyran kneels at my feet.
“What is it you want to tell me?”
“I don’t have a speech prepared. But I just want to say that I did this all wrong. I saw you, and I took you. Plain and simple. Was it selfish? Yes. Illegal. I suppose.”
I snort and cross my arms over my chest.
“Should I have been clearer about the fact that by mating with me, we’d be married?”
There’s a long pause.
I shriek, “Yes! Duh!”
