Page 11 of His Winter Wonderland

He was right. It was hell. But, the snow wasn’t so bad. Where she was from, the Wastelands, a light fall like this would’ve been a reprieve from the normal hellish conditions she was accustomed to. Here, this light fall was a prelude to something greater. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Another blizzard was coming.

She breathed in deeply again, allowing her senses to shift through the scents in the air, and there were a lot of them. Fresh snow. The earthy smell of the forest and the normal flora that bloomed within it. There was something else. Something slightly putrid. She now knew exactly what type of creature was following her.

Opening her eyes, she stared around her as the wind picked up, kicking up snow flurries. It was a beautiful night in the Frostlands. A quiet night. There were no wails of pain coming from the mountains to the left. There were no screams of terror coming from the forest. The snow before her wasn’t stained with bloody footprints.

It was a nice calm night. A rarity in the Frostlands. This was something to be celebrated. Unfortunately, that calm was about to come to an end. Someone was about to die. Winter shrugged out of her hot pink fur coat, being careful of the vial she had in the left pocket.

That vial had to be delivered intact so that she could receive her payment for creating the potion. Also, she didn’t want the liquid to stain her fur coat. The fur came from a rare creature who lived deep within the Frostlands’ mountains. Her battle with the pink rengal-orabu had taken three hours. Three long torturous hours.

The longest battle she’d ever had with a creature from the Frostlands. The most brutal also. Though the rengals were beautiful, they were also deadly. And if you were unfortunate enough to let them pull you into their strong embrace, death would soon follow. She’d broken at least six bones during that fight and cracked her jaw.

The creature had ripped a chunk of her hair out also. It had taken almost two years for it to grow back. It was a good thing she hadn’t known Rhen then. She wouldn’t have wanted him to see her like that. Ugh, she really needed to stop thinking about Rhen. Plus, if he’d seen what the creature had done to her, he wouldn’t have thought she was ugly or anything.

He would’ve wanted to avenge her. She would’ve taken pride in telling him he didn’t have to, because she’d handled it herself. Though she hadn’t fought the creature just to get its fur, she still felt she deserved it after the bloody hell the beast had put her through. She’d put in too much work that day to have her favorite coat destroyed tonight.

She’d definitely put in too much work creating the potion that was in the vial she had hidden in the coat pocket. For those two reasons, she gently draped her coat over a tree stump. As she did so, a deep gravelly voice spoke from behind her.

“I’ll be taking that coat, witch.”

She’d been wondering when he would say something and make his presence known.

“I won’t ask again, witch.”

Not looking back, Winter sighed. Why did everyone think she was a witch? Even Rhen referred to her as such. At first, she used to correct them, him too. Now, she accepted the title. It was easier than explaining what she truly was to them. And since her abilities were similar to that of a witch, she could understand why they would think of her as one.

Yes, she could cast spells. But witches weren’t the only creatures who could do that. And sure, she had a familiar. The spots on her neck represented her spotted black leopard that lived within her. She’d named her leopard War, since it was always right next to her on the battlefield. But, witches weren’t the only creatures who had familiars.

Okay, so, yeah, she understood why there was always a mix-up. Still, it would be nice to be recognized for what she truly was at least once in her life. Was being recognized as a goddess of destruction too much to ask for? She had something witches didn’t have. An inner demon spirit who called itself Victory and hated when Winter shortened the name Vicky.

“Hey, witch!”

“Hey, skin thief!” Rolling her eyes, Winter slowly turned around to face her stalker.

No wonder his scent had been faint. The skin he was sporting tonight was fresh, masking the stench of his true form. The stitches that pieced the skin together still had blood caked up around them. The skin hadn’t started to decay yet. The creature had stolen every inch of flesh from his victim. Including the genitals and breasts.

“You sound like a man but I don’t see any man parts,” Winter observed aloud.

The beast growled, a low rumble that echoed through the night.

“Shhh,” Winter told him. “Don’t wake the sleeping woodland creatures. Not everyone is nocturnal like you.”

“Fuck them creatures! You should worry about yourself.” The skin thief scratched himself, his crotch area. But because he was wearing a skin that didn’t belong to him, it looked weird as hell watching him scratch. Still scratching, he told her, “You really shouldn’t be out this late at night alone, princess.”

“Princess?” Winter chuckled. “I’m not royalty.”

“But like a princess, you’re dainty, weak, vulnerable.”

Only in my dreamland, bastard! As he gifted her with a creepy smile and rubbed his hands together, the skin on his palms bunched up, looking disgusting as hell.

“How did such a little princess get lost in the cold dark forest on the wrong night?”

“Awww. You called me little. For that, I’ll make your death less painful.”

That granted her a huge laugh from the beast. He laughed so hard, his breasts jiggled. Or rather, someone else’s breasts jiggled. From the frown on his face, she knew their movements irritated him. He stopped and glared down at them.

“Fucking jugs,” he muttered under his breath.

“You could try cutting them off,” Winter suggested. “No? Don’t want to? I understand. If you did that, the skin would rot faster. And you’d have to find a new victim and take their skin. Hmm, I guess you’re stuck with those jugs. I must say, they look nice on you. The nipples match your eyes.”