15. Kiss the Girls

Chapter 15

Kiss the Girls

LORI

D eath is nothing like I'd imagined. Blurry and cold, without a big light to walk toward or shiny golden gates to greet me. Definitely no fires of hell, either.

I'm numb all over, and my eyes are shut in acceptance when a thunderous sound echoes in my water-filled ears.

Boom. Boom. Crack.

Before I can form a conscious thought, unfamiliar hands skim my shoulders, trying and failing to get a grip. Someone on the other side of the ice is obviously trying to come to my rescue. So annoying… Can't they let a girl rest in peace?

A wall of bubbles blurs my vision as someone jumps into the pool beside me. A strong pair of arms wrenches me out of the tank, shattering the silence. I'm not dead, and the realization comes with a butt-load of pain.

Elio's pupils are dilated, his irises all black as he hauls me out of the pool, supporting my entire weight. Water drips from his fancy black wool coat, his hair soaked and disheveled. I suck in air, water still lodged in my throat, and the sudden, ungraceful gurgle jolts me out of my hypoxia-induced trance.

Elio's coiled arms relax, and he shoots me the nastiest glare before his lids flutter shut. With a frustrated groan, he dumps me back inside the tank and climbs out.

A woman jumps in behind me and grabs my arm, and I use her as a crutch to grip the ice rim. A series of coughs rocks my body as I spring over it, tumbling stomach-first into the snow. I spurt out another mouthful of water, about to choke on the taste of my own fear. My body gives wild, violent shakes as the Winter bride that came to my aid skips out of the pool and twists the water out of her hair.

"Is she alright?" a voice asks.

The woman taps my back forcefully, pulling me out of the haze. "Are you okay, dandelion fluff?"

The Red that was standing behind me on the plank rolls her eyes. "Don't bother, Wendy. She only pretended to drown to get more screen time."

Her arms are still wrapped around her chest, and I realize merely seconds have passed since the Winter King's snowball hit the button. My skin stings from the cold, a circle of women gazing down at me from all sides.

"Look at her. She's not faking it," Daisy says. "Besides… how do you explain the ice, dumb nut?"

I rub a drop of saliva from my blue lips. "I'm okay. I'm okay."

Wendy claps her hands and shoos off the crowd. "Give her some air, people."

"Thank you," I croak.

"Don't think we're friends because I wouldn't let you get all the attention," she whispers under her breath.

The cameras buzz closer, and Paul sticks a microphone close to her face. "Is Lori alright?"

"Oh, yes. She's fine, now," the Winter bride says dismissively, combing her fingers through her long black mane.

"What's your name?"

"Wendy Frost."

Her surname rings a bell, and I check her ears. She's Fae… I didn't know Fae were allowed to enter the contest.

"Frost… My oh my, we have a legacy candidate over here. The only Fae on the roster, I think."

"You're right, Paul, but I just don't see why all the fun should be left to the mortals."

The host chuckles at that and asks Wendy to talk more about herself, but I zone out the rest of their conversation.

Seth dumps my coat back over my shoulders. "Are you okay? What the hell happened?"

The coat heats me up and absorbs the moisture from my skin, and I hold the lapels tightly around my frame, still shivering. "I'll live," I grumble.

Seth and the Spring brides usher me away to a secluded spot behind the dunk tank. Poppy sticks a hot mug of coffee under my nose. Steam rises from the black liquid, and I sip on it slowly, each swig more delicious than the last. My fingers and toes are itchy as hell, but a bit of life returns to my core.

"Wow. That Wendy is even more of a camera whore than you are," Daisy says, the Winter bride still deep in conversation with Paul. "You think she planned this? To profit from your clout?"

Seth's brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

Daisy huffs like she's disappointed in him. "Grown women don't often drown in kiddy-size pools. Someone casted a pretty powerful spell over that tank."

While Daisy's hypothesis makes sense, I can't shake the intuition that the king is somehow responsible for what just happened; not just some ambitious, ruthless competitor.

"What about Elio?" I ask with a grimace. "Ice is his thing, right?"

"He pummeled through it with his bare hands. I don't see why he would have bothered to rescue you if he was the one trying to kill you," she whispers back.

I saw him so clearly. Standing above the ice, watching me drown… "Maybe he thought I was already dead and wanted to avoid suspicion."

It's not such a crazy theory. I am more resilient and made of sturdier magic than the Spring seed I pretend to be, but I can't let Daisy know about that.

Sarafina disperses the crowd still gathered by the fence. "Alright. The tank is closed for the day. Let her warm up for a bit." She calls Seth and the brides away for the next challenge, the teams once again having to select a sacrificial lamb for another humiliating game, and I wait until I'm alone to approach the dunk tank.

Daisy's right. We're all vying for a bushel of blue apples and a crown nobody survives, but someone must be more desperate to win than I'd originally thought possible.

Rose becomes fodder for the dart game, and so the next hour goes, each task sillier than the last. Finally, the last member of each group, the one who never got picked by her peers to suffer the whims of the hosts, gets a turn around the ferris wheel with the king. But there's no swinging gondolas in the cards for me. The thick, enchanted winter coat dries my clothes, and by the time everyone gathers back in the middle of the central plaza, I almost feel normal again.

Byron zooms toward Sarafina with a silk bag in his hands, and the woman claps her hands to get our attention. "Alright. Now that you've all had your fun, we're ready to announce the carnival's elimination challenge. Please rejoin your starting groups."

Here we go again… I catch up with the girls and glare at the humongous teddy bear in Daisy's arms. Of course, she had to win the ring toss challenge.

"Brides, welcome to the Snowhaven's carnival kissing booth," Paul announces.

Excited squeals rise from the audience, but my stomach sinks.

"A kissing booth? Seriously?" Daisy snickers.

"I'm with you." I slither between Poppy and Rose to get a better look at what's going on.

Cameras buzz in the four corners of the covered, open-air theater, poised to capture the next challenge from every angle to satisfy the public's creepy fascination with social disasters.

Sarafina waits for the burst of whispers and nervous giggles to break before she continues with the rules. "Each of you will share a kiss with the king, and the viewers will vote for their favorite one."

My teeth grit together. I mean—I expected a challenge of the sort—just not so soon, I guess. The Winter King would rather bite me than kiss me, so whatever happens next might ruin my chances to win over the public.

"Don't think your previous encounters with the king will help you here. He's going to be blindfolded and bound, so only the taste of your lips counts," Paul adds.

Sarafina frowns at that, her gaze flying to Paul, but she quickly schools her expression back to neutral. "What a fun twist! A kiss for each bride, and blindfolded at that. What do you think is about to happen, Paul?"

Paul wiggles his bushy gray brows. "Whatever happens, you can't accuse the king of playing favorites, that's for sure." He takes a dramatic pause before looking at the cameras. "The twelve women with the least votes will leave the competition tonight ."

Sarafina chuckles. "Oh, I'm all for that, Paul. Twenty brides is still a ridiculous number to deal with."

"Let's see who can tempt our king into kissing them back, and who will have to say goodbye to him—and their dream of ever tasting a frost apple." Paul rolls up his sleeves and loosens his tie like he's about to march into a fight ring. "Here he is. The king is walking on stage as we speak, so if you're cooking dinner or taking care of your little ones, this is your last warning."

Elio walks onto the stage, indeed. With a rogue grin, he slips his feet out of his boots, tossing them one after the other over the edge. Barefoot on the wooden stage, his opened jacket showcasing his damn abs, he looks too enticing. But it's nothing but a performance.

A spark of disdain curls his top lip as Sarafina ties the blindfold around his head. "Don't cheat," she says playfully.

Elio offers the crowd a fake smile in response. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The women around me laugh. Sarafina and Elio certainly make a lovable pair. Maybe they should get married instead.

We all draw a number from a velvet pouch. Number 18. Eek.

Twenty kisses. Twenty young women standing in line to impress a cold, soulless king. It's not right.

I'm last of the Spring group. The quiet one is going right before me, while Poppy, Rose, and Daisy are in the middle of the pack.

I let my eyes glaze over and concentrate on anything besides the other girls kissing the Winter King. There's nothing I can learn from their successes or mistakes, and if I am to be filmed and eliminated for being a bad kisser—so be it.

But quickly, a pattern emerges. Elio holds himself away from Poppy and Rose, giving them a boring peck on the lips and a quick boot. Meanwhile, the candidates from Wintermere and the Red Forest do significantly better, like the king can easily tell us apart.

Still… the tug of envy in my gut is annoying as hell, and the ball in my throat throbs when Daisy pushes her tongue inside his mouth. Elio reciprocates the kiss for half a second before he pulls away.

A satisfied smile stretches Daisy's lips, and she blows the cameras a kiss as she hops off the stage. That girl knows her stuff.

I inch forward again, a handful of women still in front of me.

Wendy manages to keep her kiss going for a good minute, and the fire in my heart swells. I start unlacing my boots and slip out of them, looking anywhere but at Elio.

Two to go.

I peel the magic coat off and toss it to the ground. My damp hair frosts over, and I slick it behind my ears.

It's barely below freezing. I can do this.

If I'm to kiss the Winter King in front of his whole court, I'm not going to let some spell shield me from his magic and him from mine. I'm going all in. Who knows, maybe my stripping session will garner a few votes.

I don't have to be first, just high enough in the ranks to stay.

Sarafina scowls but motions me forward to the line of tape on the ground.

The quiet Spring girl in front of me, Flora, walks off the stage after a lackluster kiss. She presses a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry, and my eyes narrow. That fucker. He's playing with us.

Cold air seeps inside my pores, but I rub the chill of my arms as the cameras adjust their lenses. I squint at the blindfold, but it looks legit, and Sarafina nods to give me the go-ahead. I tiptoe over to Elio, light as a feather without the heavy coat and boots. It makes me feel more like myself—a huntress.

Elio is awfully tall, his dark tattoos on full display. The skull-like shape I caught a glimpse of yesterday isn't visible now, the luster of the black ink only revealing the shape of the Fae runes.

Many girls have copped a feel at this point, but I climb up the defined muscles of his stomach to his ribs with spider fingers, up and up until I reach his full lips. He frowns at that, like he's suddenly very uncomfortable.

Taking this as my last chance to act, I throw all caution to the freezing wind blowing across the square and press my mouth to his.