4. Dove

4

DOVE

O ne moment I’m tumbling through an unending dark, only to find myself thrust into the light.

It’s staggering, blazing white, and warm—oh so warm. The icy wind that had dug its claws into my flesh has been replaced by a heated, gentle breeze. It's the type of warmth one feels sitting before a roaring fire as it thaws your frozen body. It makes my muscles lose their rigidity. I can flex my fingers and wiggle my toes.

My eyelids flutter. At first I can only make out the thick gloom surrounding me.

It’s why I didn't see him at first. Slowly he comes into view. Like a demon from my worst nightmares, he appears through the heavy fog—the Frost King .

Only he’s not a demon at all. At least not in the way I was envisioning. There are no curling horns and sharp fangs. I’d feel smug about Mrs. Pendleton’s status as a liar not being exaggerated if the very real possibility that I was about to die wasn’t so present.

His horse blends in with the snow, as does his furlined cape. His face is a smudge of light blue skin that gives way to glittering white hair. It’s curly and barely reaches the tips of his arched ears. Nestled atop his head sits a pointed silver crown. Not that he needs it—power radiates from him. Even the snow slows its descent in his presence.

At last, he has come. For a brief moment, I think all of this must be some horrible figment of my imagination. However, the gasps and broken whimpers echoing down the platform, remind me this is all too real.

Did this creature pull me back from the brink of death? For what purpose? My stomach sinks realizing I’m about to find out.

Heavy footsteps stomp along the frozen ground. I remain unmoving atop the platform—the chain around my wrist would prevent me from getting far anyway. Fear grips my heart at his approach. His intense, blue gaze never leaves mine.

Warmth licks over my skin, the same languid touch that pulled me from the darkness. The cold air is no longer painful in my lungs. However, I feel little comfort as he continues his approach. My body screams at me to run—to scream and thrash so that he may be persuaded to choose a more docile tribute.

His eyes never deviate from me, as the world around me fades. Heavy fog encases the Frost King and I on the platform.. I’m transfixed. My heart hammers painfully in my chest. I reach for the fear I felt earlier, arming myself with it before he gets much closer.

Only, the longer I look at him, the less on edge I feel. Magic must be at work here. That is the only way to explain why the tension is leaving my body. My shoulders relax even as my mind screams at me to stay on guard.

The Frost King is not like any human male I have ever seen. With him still mounted on his horse, I can tell he is tall and with thick muscles. High cheekbones taper into his strong, set jaw. Not to mention those eyes. They are brighter than Sophia’s, burning with a primal intensity. He is alluring to me in the most unnatural way.

Clearly, I am under his thrall. If he can blight our land he can steal my wits to make me a tame captive.

His horse’s nose touches the platform, bringing me within arms reach. A breeze kicks up and blows my hair in front of my eyes. Tucking it away quickly, I watch the Frost King’s nostrils flare. Glowing eyes intensify as his blue lips part.

Fresh snow settles on his broad shoulders. Tendrils of my hair cling wetly to my cheeks. A powerful shiver rocks, only this one has nothing to do with being cold. An invisible heated blanket has settled along my shoulders, enveloping me in its warmth. My eyelids droop as drowsiness sets in.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the platform seem far away. A coldness circles my wrist before I hear the manacle crack and fall with a thud next to me. I fight to open my eyes but sleep beckons. I’m too comfortable to fight.

Large hands lift and settle me against a powerful chest.

There is no fear. That is the most damning part of this ordeal. I am going with this creature willingly if only to stay this deliciously warm for as long as possible. Against his chest, another blast of heat settles over me, and I curl towards it. The magic he wields renders me powerless.

I feel his quick intake of breath before one word is growled against my ear.

“ Mine .”

It clangs around in my head before settling in my heart. I give myself over to this creature and hope that if he does plan to kill me, my mother and sister won’t witness it. If I am to die, at least I will go feeling warm and believing that I had some part in breaking this infernal curse.

The Frost King settles me atop his horse. The scent of pine and smoke invades my longs. He tucks me full against him, concealing me from the snow. I burrow further into him as if I can crawl inside the raging inferno roaring in his chest. The reins snap, and the horse below me begins to move.

Cracking my eyes open, I watch heavy snow envelop us. Slumber tempts me with its peaceful darkness. I nearly give in until a scream cuts through the icy fog. A voice—one I’d know anywhere—rises above the wind. It’s Mama begging and pleading with all her might. I hear other voices join into the mix. I can picture her fighting and trying to come after me.

The image shocks me into awareness. My eyes fly open, and the warmth surrounding me fades. The icy wind pulls at my wet clothes and hair. I push against the powerful chest and muscular arms caging me.

“L—l—let me g—g—go,” I demand through chattering teeth.

My captor glances down at me. I shove against him with all my fading strength. He doesn’t even budge.

“L—let m—m—me g?—”

Moving faster than I can register, his icy hand wraps around my chin. Forcing my gaze up, his blue eyes blaze into me as if he can peer into my soul.

“Sleep,” he commands.

A metallic scent stings my nose as the fight inside me melts away. By the time he drops my chin, my eyelids have shut, and I’m enveloped in a warm, dreamless sleep.