The storm outside subsided, leaving the cabin in an eerie silence. Mrs. Claus stood over Ded Moroz’s lifeless body, her chest heaving and her muzzle stained with blood. Slowly, the rage began to ebb, the beast’s hold weakening as the reality of what she’d done set in.

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She threw her head back and let out a mournful howl, the sound carrying across the frozen wilderness. It was a cry of anguish, regret, and something darker—a warning to all who dared stand in her path.

Ded Moroz, the faunist, shaman, cryomancer, and demigod was no more. The beast had claimed her first kill.