11. Mel

CHAPTER 11

MEL

A crash from the kitchen jolts me awake. My heart pounds as I rush to the living room, where Krampus sprawls across my too-small sofa, his furry blue legs dangling over the armrest.

"Wake up, you overgrown smurf." I smack his rear end.

"Five more minutes, warden." He rolls over, nearly crushing my coffee table.

"Someone's in the kitchen."

His red eyes snap open. "Behind me."

We creep down the hallway. The smell of vanilla and... burning sugar hits my nose.

"Mom! Mr. K! Look what I made!"

Sam stands on a chair by the counter, surrounded by flour, egg shells, and what might have once been cookie dough. A thin trail of smoke wisps from the oven.

"Samantha Carson!"

"The small one shows initiative." Krampus reaches past me and opens the oven, pulling out a tray of blackened lumps with his bare hands. "Though her execution needs work."

"I wanted to surprise you with Christmas cookies." Sam's lower lip trembles.

"Here." Krampus grabs a mixing bowl. "First, you need proper ratios. Mathematics is key to warfare and baking."

"Since when do you know how to bake?" I ask.

"I had a lot of time to watch cooking shows in cryo." He measures flour with surprising precision. "Now, tiny human, crack these eggs. But gentle - like disarming a plasma bomb."

Sam giggles as she taps the eggs. Flour dusts her nose and cheeks.

I should stop this. My kitchen's already a disaster zone. But Sam hasn't smiled like this in weeks.

"The secret is creaming the butter properly," Krampus explains, showing Sam how to work the mixer. "Like crushing your enemies into submission."

"You have interesting metaphors," I mutter.

"Mom, come help us cut shapes!"

Before I know it, I'm elbow-deep in cookie dough, watching Krampus teach Sam how to properly wield a cookie cutter "like a deadly weapon."

My chest tightens as I watch them together. Tom never spent time with Sam like this. His idea of bonding was buying her expensive toys then complaining when she played too loudly with them.

"Look mom, Mr. K showed me how to make stars!" Sam holds up a perfectly shaped cookie. "He says these are like the ones where he's from."

"The Ataxian system has three suns." Krampus wipes flour from Sam's cheek with surprising gentleness. "The light creates patterns unlike anything on Earth."

A warmth spreads through me that has nothing to do with the oven. This seven-foot-tall alien criminal shows more patience with my daughter than her own father ever did.

"Tell me more about your stars, Mr. K!" Sam bounces on her toes.

"Perhaps tomorrow, small warrior. The cookies need attention now."

My mind wanders as I watch his massive hands delicately arrange cookies on the cooling rack. He's so... present. When he looks at you, he really sees you. Not like the endless parade of men who looked through me, already planning their escape.

Heat rises to my face as my thoughts take an unexpected turn. Those hands, that intensity... could we even...? I mean, physically, would it be possible to...?

Oh god. What if we did and I got pregnant? Would the baby be blue? Have horns?

"Mom! You're squishing the dough!"

I snap back to reality, face burning. The cookie dough oozes between my fingers where I've squeezed it into mush.

"Sorry sweetie, I was... distracted."

"Here." Krampus's hand engulfs mine as he shows me how to reshape the dough. "Gentle pressure. Like defusing a quantum bomb."

His touch sends electricity up my arm. I need to stop having these thoughts. He's an alien fugitive camping on my sofa, not boyfriend material.

Right?

The cookies cool on the rack as Sam snuggles up between Krampus and me, her eyes fluttering shut. I feel a pang of guilt for letting my mind wander to such inappropriate places. He's an alien, for goodness sake. This is insane.

Once Sam's breathing evens out, I clear my throat. "Krampus, we should talk about... protection. I mean, in case anything were to happen between us."

His red eyes bore into me, unblinking.

"Protection is unnecessary. My species only procreates when we wish to."

"Well, that's convenient," I mutter, fiddling with the hem of my sweater.

"Our planet has limited resources," he explains. "It was an evolutionary change, to ensure we do not overpopulate and consume everything in our path."

I nod slowly, processing this information. "So you're saying you can... control it?"

"Precisely." His gaze flicks down to Sam's sleeping form. "The Odex are a victim of our own success. We became too powerful, too resilient to kill. We bred without restraint until our home world was depleted."

I shudder, imagining a planet stripped bare. "What happened then?"

"The Ataxian Coalition offered us the hope of new worlds to colonize." His lips curl in a bitter smile. "Instead, they sent us to die in the Centuries War."

A chill runs down my spine.

"Die?"

"The Odex are virtually indestructible. We are the perfect soldiers." His claws flex, nearly dislodging Sam. "But the cost has been high. Too high."

I bite my lip, unsure how to respond. The weight of his people's suffering hangs heavy in the air. I reach over and gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind Sam's ear, marveling at the gentle way Krampus watches the gesture.

"I'm sorry, Krampus," I murmur. "That must have been... devastating."

He nods slowly, his gaze returning to mine. "It is in the past now. I focus on the present - and ensuring a future for my kind."

The intensity in his eyes steals my breath. I swallow hard, pulse quickening. "And what does that future entail?"

His clawed hand comes up to cup my cheek, sending electricity racing across my skin. "That remains to be seen."

I search his face, transfixed by the depth of emotion I find there. Whatever this is between us, it feels... fated. Inevitable. And terrifying.

His touch burns against my skin, gentle despite those deadly claws. My heart hammers so hard I wonder if he can hear it.

"Why are you trembling?" His voice rumbles low, careful not to wake Sam.

"Where do I start?" A bitter laugh escapes me. "My alien ex-boss wants us dead. I'm discussing birth control with someone who's not even from this planet."

His thumb traces my jawline. "Those are surface fears."

"Fine." I close my eyes, unable to meet his intense gaze. "I'm happy. Really, truly happy. For the first time since... maybe ever."

"And this frightens you?"

"Because something always goes wrong." My voice cracks. "The moment I let myself believe things might work out, that's when it all falls apart. Tom left. My parents died. Every time I dare to hope, the universe laughs and takes it all away."

"Look at me."

I shake my head, but his hand remains steady on my cheek.

"Mel. Look at me."

I open my eyes. His red gaze holds mine, fierce and certain.

"I am not your ex-mate," he says firmly. "I am not leaving. And I will tear apart anyone who tries to take this happiness from you."

"You can't promise that." I say.

"I just did." His other hand comes up to frame my face. "I am Odex. We do not make promises lightly."

Krampus leans in, his breath warm against my lips. My heart stutters - this is happening, I'm about to kiss an alien fugitive while my daughter sleeps between us and-

When I snap my fingers and take my bow, everybody gonna go pow pow!

Ice floods my veins. The phone vibrates in my pocket, that distinctive ringtone freezing me in place.

No. Not now. Not them.

My hands shake as I pull out the phone. The screen confirms my worst fears: "Mom & Dad."

"What manner of communication device makes such peculiar sounds?" Krampus pulls back, head tilted in confusion.

The phone continues its cheery electronic assault.

Got an itchy finger on my trigger, I'm a rootin' tootin' cowboy...

"Something far, far worse than Grolgath invaders." My throat goes dry as I stare at the screen. "My parents."

"The ones you said were deceased?" His brow furrows.

"No, my adoptive parents. The ones who raised me after..." I swallow hard. "The ones who think I'm a successful executive living in a penthouse apartment, married to a doctor, and definitely not harboring an alien fugitive while fighting off an invasion."

The phone keeps ringing. Sam stirs between us.

"Your progenitors believe false things about your life situation?"

"Welcome to Earth family dynamics." I press my palm to my forehead. "Oh god, what am I going to tell them?"

"You wouldn't understand." I let the phone ring out. "It's complicated."

"Try me. My cognitive functions exceed your species by several orders of magnitude."

"Fine." I stroke Sam's hair as she dozes. "My parents adopted Alice first. Perfect Alice with her perfect grades and perfect life. Then they got me."

"Another offspring unit. And this displeased you?"

"No, I loved Alice. Still do. But..." The memories sting. "While she was winning cheerleading trophies, I was in the shop class learning to rebuild engines. She dated the quarterback. I dated the guy who sold pot behind the bleachers."

"These distinctions hold significance?"

"To them? Everything. They wanted two perfect daughters. Instead they got one success story and one..." I wave at myself. "Disappointment."

"You appear fully functional to me."

"Thanks. But they wanted more. Every parent-teacher conference, every report card, every family dinner - I saw it in their eyes. Where did we go wrong with Mel?"

"So the fiction about your current life circumstances..."

"Seemed easier than admitting I'm a single mom working as a glorified coffee fetcher." I shrug. "They already blame themselves for how I turned out. Why make them feel worse?"

Krampus studies me, head tilted.

"So, you sought to assuage your adoptive parent's guilt by deception?" He clucks his tongue. "Though your intentions were pure, you were still naughty. I'm afraid I'll have to spank you later."

A laugh bubbles up from my throat, but dies as I meet Krampus' gaze. His red eyes smolder with an intensity that steals my breath. Heat floods my cheeks as understanding dawns - he wasn't joking about the spanking.

"Oh, well..." I fidget with my phone, suddenly very aware of his massive presence beside me. "I kind of don't dislike that idea. But it doesn't solve the problem of what I'm going to tell my parents."

"Tell them the truth." His voice rumbles through me like distant thunder. "Or as much as you are able. It is the only way to be free."

My stomach knots as I stare at the phone. He's right, of course. These lies have been a chain around my neck for years, growing heavier with each fabrication. But the thought of disappointing them again...

Sam shifts in her sleep, reminding me of simpler times when my biggest worry was whether she'd eat her vegetables. Now here I sit, harboring an alien fugitive while contemplating both corporal punishment and coming clean to my parents.

With trembling fingers, I pull up my parents' number. Krampus' hand covers mine, steady and warm.

"Your strength exceeds your own estimation," he says softly. "Face this battle as you have faced all others - with courage."

Drawing a deep breath, I press the call button.