28. Frozen

Chapter 28

Frozen

ELIO

W ater slips inside my mouth, and I cough it out, slowly stirring back to life. I'm surrounded by a warmth I haven't known in decades. Rocks dig into my back and hip, and my lids flutter. White and teal stalactites hang above my head and reveal my location. I'm in the heart of the Ice City, immersed in the magical hot springs beneath the mountain. Its powers have already repaired most of the damage I suffered during my fall. Sara must have found me at the foot of the Blueridge cliffs and decided to use desperate measures to patch me back together.

She shouldn't have bothered . Maybe I should look how I feel and become as monstrous on the outside as I am on the inside.

"Good morning."

The water sloshes around me as I struggle to sit up. Lori. She's alive. Sara's swift and thorough rescue isn't so disappointing after all.

"Or evening? Or night? I can't tell," Lori adds. She waves her arms in the water and rests her head against the natural stones lining the rim of the basin.

"It's night. We've probably been in here for a day—maybe longer," I say, my magic always in tune with the sun. "How long have you been awake?"

"About twenty minutes. Why?" Her eyes wrinkle at the corners. "Are you worried that I casted some dark spell on you while you were sleeping?"

She sounds way too amused for my taste, and my brows pull together. After the tree cracked, I pushed and pulled and used every single ounce of magic I had left to find Lori in the avalanche. I waded through tons of crushed ice and branches until I washed over the cliffs and fell to the valley below, the impact breaking about every single bone in my body. I passed out from the debilitating pain and figured Lori had about no chance of survival.

I rub the water from my eyes, frozen in place. Why the fuck did Sara bring us here together ? There's at least a dozen basins in the caves. I should leave, but the magic water is still working the knots out of my stiff muscles and healing the deep cut in my side.

Despite the lingering pain, I haven't felt so alive in decades. The scent of lemongrass and rock salts mingles with the humid air of the hot springs, infused with a mystical quality.

I scan the cavern for signs of life, but we're alone.

Where are those annoying little eyeballs when I need them? If cameras were around, I wouldn't dare to touch her. The spring's water is murky, full of glacier sediment, but I can still make out the alluring shape of Lori's breasts under the surface. Her long black hair is all wet and beautiful, a few strands sticking to her shoulders and neck.

I've got to find something to talk about, and soon.

"How are you even alive?" I croak, the question rough and unrefined.

Lori's clear gray eyes pierce the darkness, her brows pulled together. "Don't sound so disappointed."

"I'm not. Just surprised." I clear my airways again. "Are you alright?"

She immerses herself completely with a low sigh and emerges a few seconds later. "Yes, but I really thought I was done for…" She draws concentric circles in the water, her gaze fixed on the patterns formed by the shifting sediment. "I was sure death had finally come for me this time."

She says death , but she means me . Like so many others before her, she believes I've got the final say in all of this, and her eyes flick up to meet mine.

"And you're surprised, so sparing me wasn't your doing…" The veiled betrayal in her voice rakes my insides. "Would you have collected my soul yourself, if I had died?"

"No."

She arches a brow, her eyes narrow and unyielding. "So I'm not worthy of the reaper king?"

"Your worth has nothing to do with it."

"You leave the dirty work to your minions, then?"

Maybe an argument is exactly what I need to stop staring at her. "Usually, yes," I answer in jest, leaning in to her prejudice. "The few odd souls that call to me are typically those of Fae monarchs, but I could make an exception for you. In fact, I have some free time later today."

Her mouth hangs open for a second. "I didn't mean— How can you speak so plainly about death?"

"Our entire lives are about rushing from place to place until we get enough wisdom to slow down. Death is the final destination where we finally stop running. Without it, there'd be no life."

"That's easy for you to say. You're the reaper king." She chews on her bottom lip for a moment before her eyes bore into me once more. "So it's true? You can't die?"

Sadness laces her words, like my title and immortality create a chasm between us that could never be crossed.

"I can't be killed , but I'll still die someday, crushed under the weight of a magic I can't bear to carry anymore," I explain. "Which makes what you did on that dragon incredibly useless."

"So you would have survived? Entombed in the snow?"

"Yes. But ice takes without giving back. If Sara hadn't found me in time, I would have left the rest of my humanity out there."

She pushes off the wall and inches forward until she's right in front of me, in the deepest part of the pool. "What does that mean? Would you have become an ice giant like Chenu?"

My ears perk up. "You met Chenu?"

She nods. "What is he, exactly?" Water licks her chin, her head bobbing up and down because she's not tall enough to touch the bottom. I bury my hands in the thick coat of sediment filling the space between the rocks not to reach out and pick her up. She'd wrap those smooth, sexy legs around my midriff…

Don't go there.

Just keep talking. It's easier when you talk.

"Some souls aren't collected in time, or they run from the reapers and become lost. When that happens, it's the Sun Court's job to guide them toward the light. The soul catchers have until Alaveen, the festival of light, to bottle up the lost souls in lanterns and send them to the gods," I explain. "The Sun Court boasts that it always catches them all, but that's simply not true. A soul that remains earth-bound beyond Alaveen … darkens. If it was mortal, it wanders the world of the living, invisible, until it fades away, but a few immortal souls haunting the Fae continent have grown powerful and deadly. The most famous of such spirits is the Dark One. I'm sure you've heard of it."

She inches closer and stands on the tip of her toes to reach the bottom of the basin. "The evil spirit that haunts Lorntre Hollow was once flesh and bones?"

"Yes. The blackest thorn in my father's immaculate reputation. The Dark One has grown so powerful that even the King of Light can't destroy him. As for Chenu, he served my predecessor for centuries as a powerful oracle. But kings hate to be told the truth about their futures, and so the old Winter King banished him and his brother to the mountains…"

"We all know how that turned out," Lori cracks, Chenu's infamous bout of cannibalism a punchline of every worthwhile Fae campfire story.

The corner of my mouth quirks. "He's been haunting the Frost Peaks ever since, but he doesn't have enough malice in him to feed on souls beyond the occasional meal he needs to survive. His meager appetite has allowed him to evade the Sun Court's catchers for centuries."

"Why do the stories hide the fact that he used to be a lost soul?" she asks.

"Can you imagine what would happen if all the immortals in this realm knew it was possible to cheat death? Spirits like Chenu and the Dark One are the exception, and it needs to stay that way. Lost souls threaten the balance between life and death, and the very survival of our magic. The more lost souls there are in any given year, the more droughts are born into the Fae population, and for each soul we do not return to the gods as we should, a hundred seeds wither and die in the womb."

"That's a terrifying thought…" Her eyes narrow. "What about the Gray Man?"

My mind flashes to the wispy gray cloak of my faceless assailant. The Gray Man is certainly a good nickname for him. "Despite his appearance, the man we saw on the mountain was made of flesh, blood, and bones, I assure you."

"He bled and felt pain alright…" she trails off in a whisper. "You say you can't die, but you looked truly shaken up on that mountain." She points to my side, and her emphatic movement sends ripples over the water. "Could he have killed you with his eerie sword?"

"Possibly."

Her lips purse in a grimace. "And the reapers? Do they die naturally, or are they wired more like you?"

"Reapers give up their lives and souls to the cause. Within the limits of the Ice City, the oldest of them have lost everything that made them human. They're not meant to be seen by the living and become mere skeletons that grind the days away until they crumble to dust." I press my lips together for a moment before adding, "I'll turn into an ugly skeleton, too, at some point. It's already started." I graze the snow-flecked blue freckles near my collarbone to show off the first signs of my transformation.

"You've got snowflakes on your neck. I'd hardly call that ugly." She swims forward to the shallows, and I follow her gaze to the distinctive freckles.

"My skin is changing. Eventually, I'll start losing my hair."

She extends a hand toward my wet blond hair. My breath catches in my throat as she hooks her finger around one lock. "Not that hair?" Her other hand rests near my right thigh, her perfect body still submerged in the water, and my dick stirs.

"Of all the things we've discussed, the idea of me bald is what shocks you?" My chuckle comes out darker than I'd intended, and I smooth it over with a hint of a smile.

"You've got great hair." She combs it back behind my ear, and I blink, taken aback by the ease and warmth of the gesture.

"You're half Fae, then?"

Her lips purse in the semblance of a grimace, but it quickly vanishes in favor of a careful, neutral expression. "How do you figure that?"

"You seem to know more about Faerie than most of the other brides." I watch her reaction, still wondering exactly how Seth stumbled upon a Shadow seed that looks exactly like my dead wife.

I can't explain why Lori looks the way she does, and it would be naive to let my guard down until I understand the reason.

"My grandmother was Fae," she admits.

I arch a brow, wondering if I can trust anything she tells me. "A Shadow Fae?"

"A Spring Fae, actually."

"What about your parents?"

"My mum was a Spring seed. My father…was normal." Her gaze darts to the side.

I know grief like the back of my hand, and while most of my peers would apologize for bringing up her dead parents, the fact that she suffered such a great loss at her age actually makes me feel closer to her.

It also explains her visceral reaction to some of my comments.

"Were you very young when they died?"

"Too young, but I managed," she says, her voice tinged with quiet sadness. "The worst part was being separated from my brother by the new world's deranged foster system. For years, I was alone."

"I've been alone since I inherited the Winter crown," I reply, my voice carrying a deep sense of resignation.

She nods slowly. "In death, we are alone."

If I didn't know Iris's entire family tree, I might be tempted to delve into Lori's parentage, but the downward curve of her mouth and the coldness creeping into my heart compel me to change the subject.

Who cares if she's a long-lost blood relative of Iris? It wouldn't change anything.

"Would you come with me? If I collected your soul myself? Or would you try and cheat death, little spider?" I croak, dipping my head down.

Our noses bump, and she cups my cheek as if she's about to kiss me. Yet, at the last possible second, she pulls away, submerging herself up to her chin in the pool. "I'd run from you. As fast as I possibly could."

Water glides down my shoulders as I lean forward. "I'd chase you."

"I'm fast." Her raincloud eyes shine in the dark. "Maybe even faster than you."

The defiance in her voice shivers through me. Oh…fuck it.

I dash forward to grip her arm, but she slinks away from me, retreating toward the center of the basin. My hand grasps at air, my brows pulling together at the speed with which she moved.

"Told you so."

The sizzle in her impetuous gaze goes directly to my cock, and my heart beats in my throat as I give chase, sinking inside the hot spring until only my head pokes out of the surface. We play cat and mouse around the small natural pool, Lori always staying one step ahead. My ice magic is too dangerous to use inside the healing springs—not if I don't want to ruin their properties for centuries to come.

She splashes water in my eyes with the heel of her palm, and the giggle that escapes her as I rub my face off with a dignified huff wrecks me. Still laughing, she lets me catch her.

My chest heaves in victory as I wrap my arms around her slippery form, caging her in. Smooth, wet skin glides against mine.

"You should see your face. It's like you've never played tag in the water before," she says.

Every movement makes her breasts brush deliciously against my torso, and a dark chuckle rumbles through my body. "I didn't have that kind of childhood, I'm afraid."

Her scent tickles my nose, a subtle aroma both elusive and dark, as if she's part human, part shadow. Goosebumps rise on her skin as I drag her back to the shallows, settling her gently onto my lap.

The sight of her chest—bare and wet—destroys the rest of my good intentions.

With a defeated sigh, she presses her forehead to mine. "I thought you never wanted to touch me again."

The broken promise riddles me with doubts and self-loathing, but I need this. "I changed my mind." I trace her back, mesmerized by the shape of her spine.

Her mouth finds mine, warm from the springs and yet tormented, like she battles the same demons I do. She tastes like the embers of the fire that blazes inside of her, and I long for her to burn me the way she did in the hall of mirrors.

This…intimacy could choke me. I'd rather turn it into sex. Sex, I know how to navigate. I can make her feel good.

I spread her thighs so she's straddling me and caress the valley between her breasts up and down. "As long as we're here and naked… Might as well make the most of it."

She lets out a low, frustrated grunt. "I almost died of frostbite. I'm not in the mood."

I caress the underside of her breasts in turn. Her nipples are taut and dark, begging to be kissed. "No?"

Like all mortals, she lies. She lies and never stops to think of the damage it does around her, and I can't forgive her for that. We're no longer strangers or enemies, but we could never become more than we are now, reluctant allies who lust for each other because of some annoyingly persistent magic. There are a million reasons for me to stop this from happening again.

She shouldn't even be here, all mortals are banned from the Ice City.

She risked her life to save mine.

She looks exactly like my dead wife.

She's a spider, and I still don't know what she's after.

No matter what, I can't marry her.

I don't deserve this.

Some of these reasons sting more than others. A few have become so deeply ingrained in my soul, they might as well be part of my flesh. Yet none seem sufficient to rob me from hearing Lori cry out my name in pleasure. We've already crossed the line once; a second faux pas won't change the fact that I have to marry any one of them but her.

It might make it harder to walk away, a small voice whispers in the back of my mind . Walk away now before you start to care.

Our gazes lock, and Lori tightens her hold on my neck like she sensed my hesitation. Her eyes are so expressive and wide and open… I want to learn their language. Her fingers travel to my shoulder, her thumb resting in the small dip beneath my collarbone. Whether she intends to pull me closer or push me away, I can't tell.

We're tethering on the edge of a precipice so deep I fear we'll never reach the ground.

I'm terrified that if we tip over, we'll just fall and fall and fall. Fall so thoroughly and for so long that we'll start to think we can fly.

But death will be waiting. Death is patient, if not merciful.

Walk away now. Walk away while you still have the chance, or it'll hurt more when you do. Your duty is to the kingdom. To the souls. You can't falter now.

You can't change your destiny, Elio. You still have to marry someone else.

Fuck someone else.

And condemn her to die.

Break Lori's heart now so you don't have to do it later. If not for your sake, then for hers.

The small voice goes mute as she bends down to kiss me again, her nails digging into my upper back to claw me closer. Nudging me over the edge.

I find her soft heat under the water and drag a finger across her folds. She's slick and ready, and my cock throbs.

"You're in the mood, I think." I start a slow rub, teasing her.

She tucks her lip between her teeth. "Mm… You're too good at that."

"Want me to stop?"

"Nope." She traces my skull tattoo before snaking a hand down to my erection.

My abs clench, the tension in my groin almost painful. "Not yet. I want to hear you beg, first."

You're a selfish, unworthy bastard, the little voice coos.

Lori's thighs are perfectly spread out in this position, and I draw slow, sluggish circles between her legs until she pants. I drink in the sight of her round, exquisite breasts. Small beauty marks darken her left aureole and run all the way down to her navel. The marks are all hers, and I can't stop looking at them, wishing I could map them out on parchment.

She has more muscles than Iris did, her body shape completely different, despite the similarities. The differences only feed my need to claim her, and I swipe my thumb across her clit. "Promise me you will never risk your life for me again."

"Oh!" Her sharp nails sink into my shoulder again as she holds on to me. "You like to steal promises from me when I'm distracted. You're…evil."

"Promise me."

"No."

"Promise me, or I'll spread you down by the edge of this pool and lick every inch of you without ever making you come. I'll take my pleasure between your gorgeous breasts first—" I twist her nipples between my index finger and thumb in turn, coaxing a mewl out of her.

"And then in your mouth." I slide a finger into her mouth, and she hums, closing her lips around it and sucking every drop of her arousal mixed with the mineral water. "I will take everything there is to take and give nothing back. I warn you."

She smiles like my threats are fucking music to her ears. "Bite me."

I suck a bruise on her shoulder and push my teeth into her skin, and she quakes in my arms.

"Promise me."

"Fine I promise?—"

So easy… I sink one finger into her, then another, curling them to reach the apex of her need, and her hips buck as she writhes against me.

"—that I will only risk my life for you when you're actually in danger."

Cheater.

Before I can move, the evidence of her climax coats my fingers from all sides, her walls clinging to them with wild, powerful squeezes as she rides out the high.

So fucking wet and ready. I will punish her for this treachery and make her scream so loud, the walls of the Ice City will crack.

I rein in my impatience and give her some time to catch her breath. Shivering, she runs a hand down my shoulder blade and traces one of the two deep scars that runs to the middle of my back. Luckily, the wretched mark above my left buttock is still hidden by the water, but fuck .

Lori's face wrinkles into a worried frown. "Your scars. Let me see them." Without waiting for an answer, she peers over my shoulder, and the movement causes her breasts to dangle an inch from my face, so I suck one nipple inside my mouth.

She chokes at the caress. "Wait."

"I've learned from a very early age that one should never cry over clipped wings. It won't grow them back." I rub myself against her inner thigh. "I want to fuck. Now ."

"We can fuck after you've answered my questions." The energy in the room changes, her hooded eyes full of rage…and fear. She looks about to burst into tears, and that seriously hinders my priorities.

I force a breath down my throat, my cock so stiff and painful, my vision blurs when she adjusts her position on my lap.

She's obviously no longer in a take me now mood, but furious. The black flames of her wrath cast shadows along her shoulders and suck a bit of light out of the room itself, but for once, her ire isn't directed at me. "Who cut them off?"

Her jaw ticks, and I know she won't back down until I've answered the question. I bury my face in her hair to avoid seeing the pity that's sure to ride on the carriage of her anger. Pity is not the emotion I want to see in a woman's gaze before I fuck her.

"My father. He didn't feel I was worthy of them after I left the Sun Court." I encircle her waist to keep her close.

I do not want to disclose my secrets to a woman I know almost nothing about, but the feeling of her in my arms is so natural, so right , that I can't help myself. And besides, this is hardly my darkest secret.

"And in spite of that, you've kept all the gifts you were born with? Even after taking on the Winter crown?"

"I did. It drove my father crazy, but even clipping my wings wasn't enough to destroy the seed of light burning inside me."

She draws back an inch. "And there's nothing that can be done? No spell or…" she trails off as she reads the answer on my face, and cradles my head in her hands. "I'm so sor?—"

I peck her lips. "Shh. It's alright. Everyone's got scars. Unsalvageable broken parts. Indelible trauma that's altered them forever. I just have to wear some of mine on the outside."

And I can't fly. Not now. Not ever. If I tried, I would just crash and break something more. Until there's nothing left of me to break.

"Back in the hall of mirrors, you mentioned a Blessed Flame?" She twists her fingers in my hair, and I chuckle at the reminder, grateful for the shift in subject.

"A pesky leftover of my old religion."

"Tell me about it."

"Light Fae believe the threads forming the tapestry of the gods are sometimes burned at the ends to prevent their will from fraying. That some destinies are too important to be left to chance, and that the Flame is then used to strengthen the pattern. It is said that the Flame of Fate can also be used to burn stray threads that do not serve the gods' interest. Some of us believe it's actually used to erase their mistakes , but others think that the idea of our gods making mistakes is heresy."

Her thumb caresses the column of my throat, and I tip my head back to rest on the edge of the pool, enjoying each twisted, sinuous line she traces on her way down to my stomach. She takes her sweet time, rekindling the fire in my groin until I'm panting.

"And what camp are you?" she asks.

I bite my bottom lip. "I'd rather not say."

"Tell me anyway." She dips her hands to my aching Faehood, her small hand teasing the length of it from root to tip, and I hiss.

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Even you?"

" Especially me," I rasp, my lids fluttering.

She places a soft kiss on my neck. "What kind of mistakes?"

"The kind that are so tantalizing that I'd tear out my soul if it meant I did not have to give them up."

She stops her glorious exploration, and my eyes snap open. With both hands on my shoulders, she leans back. "Is that what I am? A mistake?"

I shift forward and grab her waist to prevent her escape, digging my fingertips into the flesh of her ass. "A ravishing, sumptuous mistake."

This indulgence is only meant to soothe the ache in my bones, and me, hers.

Nothing more. She can't be more.

She crosses her arms over her breasts, shielding them from my view, clearly torn as to what to do next. "Keep talking."

I trace the black and red scar that licks her hipbone all the way to her rib. "As long as we're threading painful territory…" The wound hasn't changed at all since I last saw it, despite the fact that Lori has just been swimming in the purest, most-effective healing spring in existence.

A terrible pressure squeezes my ribcage. "What kind of venom was it?"

She trembles in my arms. "A dreamcatcher spider. Like the ones we saw up on the mountains."

Two half-crescent tears form a long line in her side, and the pattern showcases exactly how the fangs of the spider tore through her. My jaw clenches. The venom inside that wound is counting down the days until it spreads. I can almost see the taint of dark magic swirling beneath the skin, biding its time.

By Thanatos… I will nail every last one of these spiders to my ice wall before the month is over.

"A frost apple would cure you… Is this why you agreed to do the pageant?" I ask, putting my guard back up. No matter how fierce or beautiful she is, I can't forget she conspired with Seth to deceive me.

A tremor rocks her from head to navel. "No. I didn't even know a frost apple would work on this venom."

"So you came to help Seth steal my crown and yet risked your life to save me? I don't get you, Lori." I wrap my hand in her hair, ready to make her mine again, if only for a little while.

She slaps my chest. "For the last time, Seth and I couldn't care less about your crown. We're here to find Morrigan. She attacked the Shadow Court during Morheim, and we need to capture her, not kill her."

My grip on her hair waivers. The Shadow Court… " You're one of Damian's spiders?"

"I prefer the term unpaid employee ."

Oh for Thanatos' sake!

I've had sex with this woman—even considered killing her a few times—and she's a full-fledged Shadow huntress acting in her king's name? "You should have told me that before." I slide her off me and jump out of the pool.

You're a selfish, dumb bastard. She was never yours to save. Or to destroy.

Water streams down my body and splashes the floor of the cave as I beeline for the white towels Sara left for us, but Lori chases after me.

"I've caught a few glimpses of a woman with black hair wearing a dark hood. She came to meet you at the castle and observed the carnival from a distance, yet she kept her face hidden." Lori tilts her chin up, and a spark of thunder ignites behind the clouds in her eyes "She might have fooled you into thinking she was someone else, but I'm here to bring that traitor to justice."

I grab a towel and press it over my raging erection. Lori's accusation slowly sinks in, and my temper flares. Of all things, she thinks I'm too na?ve to recognize my own cousin? What a joke!

"Morrigan Quinn stabbed my mentor and friend through the heart right in front of me in the middle of dinner. I think I can recognize her without your help." I throw her the extra towel, desperate to erase her body from my sight. "Come on. I will take you to her. Your traitor. "