Chapter 13
Niklaus
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The incessant knocking on my door jars between my ears like a bomb, and I stare into the fireplace, wondering if they’ll find their answer in my silence and leave.
“Sir?” Cadbury calls from the other side, and I sigh, because I’ve known him long enough to realize that hoping he’ll walk away unanswered is no better than wishing the snow outside would turn to sandy beaches. He’s a persistent shit. As if to drive the point home, he knocks again. “Sir, I know you’re in there, and I’ve brought your dinner. May I enter?”
With a deep, drawn-out sigh to voice my displeasure, I open the door, and he offers me a tentative smile, carrying a tray loaded with a thick stew and fresh bread. “Thanks,” I say, the word barely more than a grunt as he sets it on the table.
“Sit,” he commands, and I raise my brow at his tone. “With all the respect owed to your position,” Cadbury leans forward and grabs my arm with a soft squeeze, “and as your friend , I’m telling you to take a few minutes and have dinner. You’ve hardly touched your food in two days, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone.”
Two days.
It’s been two long, painful days since Damien ripped my fucking heart in half. Two days since I realized he’d been leading me on the whole time, toying with my affections like they were nothing more than a piece of paper for him to crumble in his fist and toss into the trash. Forty-eight hours of restless energy and no sleep and grasping for solutions to my problem that I can’t seem to find.
For the first time in history, Santa won’t be ready for Christmas.
What a fucking failure I’ve turned out to be.
Golden crust crunches between my thumb and pointer finger as I tear off a piece of bread, dunking it into the rich broth and watching as it seeps into the soft middle. I shove the bite into my mouth, recognizing the texture and flavor of the food, but it’s still barely more than ash on my tongue .
The swallow I force is a struggle, the bread taking a few tries to find its way down. “They are gone?” I finally ask, my voice rough with lack of use.
“Yes, sir. The Lu—” My eyes snap to his and he abruptly pauses before clearing his throat, apology written in his grimace. “I watched them step through the portal myself, sir.”
“And the elves that were involved?”
“They’ve been taken off the workforce and isolated to their quarters for now, until you decide what is to be done with them.” This is the part of the job that I’m no good at, because no matter how much their betrayal hurts, I don’t want them punished.
Not how I want to see him punished , I think, and my hand flies to my chest as I rub at the phantom pain there. What sort of idiot have I turned out to be, falling for someone who could so clearly never actually love me back?
Thinking I could tame the Devil himself.
My nostrils flare as the wildfire of my anger threatens to take over once again, but I quell it, pushing it down until it’s nothing but an ember. “What do you think I should do with them, Caddy?”
He’s thoughtful as I force myself to take another bite that’s no easier to stomach than the first. “Extra hours in the workshop would help get caught up.”
A spiteful laugh leaves my throat as I stare into the fire once more. “There’s no getting caught up at this point. I wasted too much time, and now I’ll be written into history as the only Santa to miss Christmas. ”
“We’ll make it work, sir. Even if we have to move gifts around and reduce what people are getting, we’ll make sure that everyone has a Christmas.”
“I don’t deserve you, Caddy,” I say, so quiet it’s barely heard over the crackling logs, and I swallow again, forcing past the lump in my throat. “I don’t deserve to hold this position, or the trust that has been placed on my shoulders. Once this Christmas is done, we’ll start the search for my replacement.”
“But sir—”
“I’d like to be alone now, if you don’t mind.”
He hesitates, watching me stir my spoon methodically through my soup, not bothering with the pretense of taking anymore bites. His hand lands on my shoulder, but I don’t meet the scrutiny of his gaze. “Of course, sir. I’ll be close by, should you need me.”
And with that, he leaves, and I’m alone.
Again.
My fingernails scratch through my beard, which has gotten scruffy in the aftermath of all the chaos. The usual scissors-to-a-football-field level of grooming standards I have for myself have fallen to the wayside, and I look as unkempt as I feel.
Disappointed is far too mild a word for the contempt I have for myself in this moment. Disgusted might come close.
Repulsed might come even closer.
Anger surges deep in my gut again, but there’s nowhere to direct it other than to myself. It’s my fault he stayed, because I took one look into those honey brown eyes and thought… what if?
Every time his name crosses my mind, it festers and boils like a wound I refuse to treat. It’s become an integral moment in my life that I can’t outrun.
I’ll now measure life in years of B.D. and A.D.
Before and After Damien.
The dim light filtering through the window casts long shadows on the desk, mirroring the melancholy that has settled over me like a heavy blanket. I haven’t left my office in days, and I’ve simply accepted that whatever’s going to happen, will.
The elves may appear eternally young, but their youthful looks belie the weight of their long lives and countless experiences. I’m hoping that by staying out of the way, they can navigate my blunders and prevent Christmas from being a complete disaster this year.
Amber liquid sloshes in my glass as I stare at it, the firelight shining through and transforming it into the same color of his eyes. My knuckles whiten as I tighten my grip around it, and a furious, defeated snarl crawls from my throat before I can stop it. Glass shatters and flames erupt as I hurl the cup into the fire, the accelerant sending a wave of heat to wash over my face.
My chest heaves on an angry inhale, the fire’s dance reflecting in my eyes. I can be pissed off at Damien all I want to be, but the one truly deserving of my fury is me.
What will be left for me after this?
A sudden commotion from the workshop causes me to pause, and I glance at the time with a frown, seeing that it’s past dinnertime. With the amount of overtime Cadbury said he’d have elves working, it makes sense that they’d be in the shop this late, trying to make up for the mess I’ve put us in. I sigh, sinking back into my seat.
The noise doesn’t die down, though, instead building until it’s at a level I’ve never heard it. Voices boom through the hallway, and I freeze, every one of my senses on high alert. They rumble low, nothing like the high-pitched, slightly squeaky timbre of the elves.
Deeper, louder, scratchier, and… almost demonic.
My nostrils flare, my temper a powder keg ready to ignite, and I burst from the door, my feet heavy with rage, pounding against the ancient wooden floors as I storm into the hallway. The sight that greets me at the shop entrance is so shocking that I screech to a halt, my breath catching in my throat.
Every inch of the workshop… every surface of my sanctuary… is filled with demons.
Hundreds of them, not a single one identical .
Shades of red, orange, a sickly green, and even one so dark he seems to suck in the light that surrounds him. Mostly large, but a few smaller bodies mixed in, and every variation imaginable. Cloven feet, silky fur instead of skin, and bat wings blur into a nonsensical image, and then I see the cyclops, and my brain refuses to absorb anything else.
Pandemonium ensues as they prance around the workshop, cackling as they dart about in a chaotic carousel of motion. Surprise still has me frozen in place until my eyes land on him.
So beautifully horrible that my heart breaks all over again.
Blond curls curtaining his forehead as his tail whips about, he orchestrates the whole thing like some sick conductor in that hideous fur coat. They follow him blindly, adoringly , and I feel it, then.
The last sliver of hope I must’ve held onto.
It dies a slow, painful death at his hands.
It wasn’t enough that he made me believe he cared… wasn’t enough to splinter my heart into a million pieces that he so carelessly threw into the wind, but now this?
To destroy the last bit of joy remaining in my life?
Honeyed eyes meet mine from across the room, and that last threadbare string holding me together snaps. Tears burn behind my eyes, held back by nothing more than sheer willpower, as I stare at the man I thought I loved.
The man who took everything from me .
The world seems to blur at the edges as my gaze sweeps the room, like my anger has clouded my perception. My fists clench, nails digging into the flesh of my palms, and my insides are aflame, the inferno fueled by the betrayal that has shattered my trust. Each breath I take feels heavy and labored, suffocating and desperate and maddening .
I invited the Devil into my home, and he showed me who he is.
It’s time to return the favor.
Power swirls around me as I call on the magic that my position grants me, churning inside me like a tempest, its energy rippling across my flesh.
A few of the demons stop their rampage, their wicked laughter cut short as they turn my direction, their gaze now steadily fixed on me.
I see their fear.
Smell it.
Relish it.
My lip tears up in a sneer as I step forward, slamming my hand towards the ground as the first wave drops to one knee before me. A torrent of magic, more potent than anything I’ve ever wielded, seethes within me, itching to unleash its wrath upon those who dared invade my sanctuary.
My vision is blurred with the golden hues of my power as I open myself to it, more bodies hitting the ground in submission as I take deliberate steps through the room. The world narrows to a kaleidoscope of pinpricks, my ears buzz with a deafening drone, and I press onward, driven by an anger so white-hot that it seems to sear my insides .
The very seams of my existence are bucking and straining against the magic.
Let it take me, I think, but even my thoughts don’t sound like my own.
“Niklaus.” A voice nudges at my consciousness, but I push it aside and force another difficult step forward, drowning in my desire to destroy them all.
“Nik!” Something wraps around my neck and yanks with a surprising strength, and my teeth are bared as I whip my face down and come nose to nose with Damien. “Nik, stop! You’re hurting yourself… please stop.”
“Why do you care?” I wedge a hand between us and hurt flashes through his warm eyes as I shove him away. Surprised at how easily I’m able to fling him to the ground, I hesitate. The sharp crack of his body hitting the floor, followed by his pained cry, sends a wave of ice through my veins.
“Nik, stop,” he whispers, and I realize in that moment that it’s silent in this shop, every demon yielding to my power.
Every demon.
Every one.
Even Damien, whose head is bowed as he sprawls at my feet.
“Nik, please listen to me and look ,” he begs, and the churning energy fizzles enough that the golden sparks thumping in my vision subside, and I stare at the top of his head. Moving in tiny, jerking motions like he’s having to fight it, he lifts his eyes to mine. “ Please. ”
Body still frozen, my gaze darts between the creatures before me, finally noticing the elves sprinkled in among them. Some hold materials or tools, others are carting boxes of finished products. My anger shifts to confusion and more of the power I’m holding onto is released. The demons are visibly relieved as they’re able to shake off the lingering effects.
“What is this?” I demand, and Damien remains at my feet, staring up at me.
“They’re helping.”
“Helping?” I repeat, my gaze shooting back up to the demons, half of which appear sheepish and the other half who might be questioning their life choices that brought them here.
Damien rises, but only to his knees, not taking his eyes off me. “When you said you wouldn’t make your deadlines for Christmas, I… I knew I had to do something. They’re all here for me, and they’ll stay until everything is done.”
The rest of my power fizzles out as I focus every razor-edged ounce of my hatred towards the man at my feet. “And what do you gain from this?”
Cautiously, he stands and pulls his lip between his teeth, grabbing on to my shirt and tugging me closer to him. I relent, but only a few inches, eyes still narrowed as I try to figure out his next move.
“I get to say this to you… I’m sorry for the pain you suffered at my hand. For every terrible decision I have made since I arrived here to meet you, and for every moment I spent working against you for my ow n amusement. But most of all? I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that all those icky, tangled feelings were just... me falling in love with you.”
Shock has me jerking back, and once again, hurt flashes across his eyes. But he’s shown me who he is already, and I can’t possibly believe this.
Can I?
“The Lucifer is incapable of love,” I say, keeping my voice as emotionless as possible.
“Well,” he says, placing his palms flat on my chest and giving me those soft, doe eyes that got me into this mess to begin with. “It’s a good thing I’m no longer The Lucifer.”