Page 16 of Elf-napped

I suck in a long breath. “Oh, honey. You need to go for a walk in the woods.”

Chapter Eight

Eldrin

This suggestion to take a walk might be part of a plot to run away.

My little snow bunny must know by now she cannot outrun me. Now that I’ve had her, there’s no other path for me. I’m keeping her.

I think she rather enjoyed herself, too, and I might be able to convince her to let me take her again soon.

Still, that glint in her eye is full of mischief. It’s both maddening and arousing. Clara confounds me at every turn.

So, I tell her she must accompany me.

“What do you mean, go with you?” she asks, wide-eyed and pouty. “I promise to stay put if you leave me here. It’s too cold out there, especially since you burned my coat in the fire.”

She makes me laugh. Her attitude changes when I produce a long, white robe. “That manufactured abomination does not belong in my world. This is what a queen wears. Besides, you do want to see some real magic, don’t you?” The long coat glitters in the firelight like fresh snow. I help her slip her arm into it; she gasps softly as the material brushes against her skin.

“I’ve never felt anything like this. Is it silk?”

“No,” I tell her. “It is elven made.”

The length of it reaches down to her ankles and wrists like it was measured precisely for her.

I smile as I watch her touch the fur lining the neck and the wrists. “This is magic. This feels softer than angora, and the stones and the beadwork … I’ve never seen patterns like this before,” she marvels.

Clara touches my heart. Seeing my world through her eyes is its own kind of magic. I’m looking at my queen, dressed in a robe fit for royalty. I scarcely feel I have the right to touch her, yet I can’t resist touching her soft cheek and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You look like a proper snow queen,” murmur, in awe.

She smiles, spinning around and making the long cloak twirl about her. “Eat your heart out, White Witch.”

“Ah. Narnia. Confusing book. Lions would never survive in the snow, and witches, as a rule, do not turn people to stone out of revenge. Some strange Christmas mythology you humans have.”

She laughs but doesn’t argue. “You think that’s strange? Have you seen the Elf on the Shelf?”

The only thing keeping the bile rising in my throat at the mere mention of those vile little dolls is the fact that I’m gazing at my own personal goddess. “Abominations,” I growl. Moving this outing along, I produce a long sash of elven material and wrap it around Clara’s waist. The other end, I fasten around my hand.

“Am I a dog on a leash?”

I arch one eyebrow. “More like a skittish little snow bunny.”

Clara responds by making a big show about the injustice of it all. “Oh my. What a wicked elf you are.”

I squint down at her, letting her know that I’m not buying her song and dance. “Humans are indeed strange creatures.”

“No, it’s just me,” she replies. The quick wink she gives nearly compels me to postpone this outing in the woods and bend her over my knee. But this is for the sake of our relationship.

Gripping her hand in mine, we transition to the outside. I keep my eyes on her, thrilled at how shocked she is. We were in my hovel, and now we’re outside. No door. Just here, and then there. Where once there was a golden room glittering with fire and stones, and all the coziness and cheer of the holidays, is now an icy blue forest and a gusting wind.

I’d better make this quick.

Chapter Nine

Clara

Oddly, though the wind whips my face, the coat feels as if I’m utterly impervious to cold. This is a magic level of warmth.

Still, my nose hairs are beginning to stick together. “Okay, friend. Touch your tree, and let’s go home.”