9. Dove

9

DOVE

S etting my fork next to my empty plate, I dare a glance at my silent dinner companion.

While the food had been delicious—no doubt magically prepared—it was nothing compared to Mama’s cooking. It lacked her most important ingredient: love. The food quality had been better than any I’d ever had—my steak was tender enough to cut with a fork—and yet I would gladly never taste it again to be sitting at my mother’s table once more. Both of us chatting happily while Sophia recounted some tale she thought up throughout the day.

Instead, I sit in a high-back chair with my stomach in knots. The Frost King seems more surly than this morning. He barely acknowledged my presence before ushering me to sit on the opposite side of the table. No pleasantries were exchanged. I merely picked up my fork and started eating.

My growling stomach had motivated me to eat without considering it could be poison. However, from what Glimmer said, I’m essential in uncovering what is happening here. I glance down at the knife next to my plate. It probably would’ve been wise to search for a weapon. This dull blade would do minor damage against someone as powerful as the Frost King.

From my brief glance, I saw him staring at nothing. He hadn’t eaten anything, merely sipped from a goblet of wine and looked through me. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Suddenly, he jerks sharply. Unease prickles my neck as his eyes close. He shivers in his chair, thrashing slightly before he exhales.

His eyes pop open, and they are different—in fact, all of him seems changed.

His skin glows bright blue, and his eyes look less animalistic. He is almost human, especially in how he stares at me. Inhaling deeply, his nostrils flare. His mouth and muscles lose all their tension.

His eyes spark with recognition as a soft, apologetic smile curls his lips, and he ducks his head. I rear back in my chair, unsure what to make of this sudden transformation.

“I fear I have been unfair to you,” he states.

Even his voice is different—deep but softer, not as gravely. I blink at him, the only indication I’ve heard what he said. Despite my silence, he presses on.

“I…apologize for my behavior. That is not how I wanted your first impression of me to be.” He shakes his head, silver crown sparkling in the light. “You must be confused—scared. I mean you no harm, truly.”

Arching a brow, I can’t help my laugh of shock.

“You expect me to believe that?”

The Frost King cringes at my sharp tone.

“I know it’s hard to believe. I’ve given you no reason to trust my word, but I promise it’s true. I won’t hurt you.”

I remain silent as his gaze lingers on mine.

“Your purpose here cannot be overstated.”

I laugh once more, rolling my eyes.

“Is that what you tell all the tributes you’ve stolen?”

I’m surprised at my boldness. I should be falling to his feet and pleading for mercy, but I find myself needing to nettle him—to make him understand that I am no helpless captive. The minute my freedom is within my grasp, I will take it. Whether I figure out the mysteries afoot here or not.

The King looks away from me.

“I’ve never taken on before.”

My mouth falls open at his confession. What does this mean for me? Why have I been chosen?

“Before you ask me why I haven’t, don’t bother. I cannot say. Not yet, at least.”

Turning back towards me, he takes a sip of wine before exhaling another breath.

“There are forces at work here—ones beyond my control.”

“How is that possible?” I ask. “You are the Frost King—you rule over all. You caused the blight on our land.”

His chuckle lacks all warmth.

“Whoever made you believe that is a fool. In time, you will learn just how little power I have.”

Anger rises within me.

“I don’t have time for all this—I need to return to my family,” I snap.

His eyes flare, but his mouth remains closed. Anger has not aided me in gaining my freedom. It could be wise to try a different approach. Reluctantly, I gentle my tone.

“Please,” I say. “Let me go. My mother and sister—they won’t survive without me.”

Again, another heated emotion flashes in his gaze. His jaw tightens.

“Please,” I say again, moisture stinging my eyes. I will myself not cry. Tears solve nothing.

“Your family has been taken care of.”

Ice floods my veins, and my stomach turns.

“What does that mean?”

Instead of answering, the Frost King raises his hand. I gasp as ice swirls around his open palm. A fresh pile of snow glimmers as he shapes it into a perfectly round ball. The scent of metal dances in the air as he rolls the snowball towards me. It leaves behind a wet trail on the table.

“See for yourself.” He nods towards the tightly packed snow.

Lifting it, I feel the snow hum with power. Cold kisses the tips of my fingers as I examine it. The ball's surface swirls into a hazy blue mist. My heart pounds in my chest. It takes a moment for it to focus, and then fresh tears spring to my eyes when it does.

It is our cottage. Only it has been significantly repaired. The wood flooring and walls are new. The kitchen table glitters from the light of a roaring fire. Atop it is stacked all manner of food and desserts. Mama is in her usual spot, wearing a new green wool gown. Sophia is also in a new dress—the dark brown fabric matches her hair. There is a place set for me even as no food is ladled onto it. Both Mama and Sophia share a smile, even if their eyes are sad. At least they aren’t starving—far from it.

In an instant, the vision is lost, and the white surface of the snowball remains still.

“My magic will keep them safe.” The King’s low voice reaches me. “They won’t go hungry as long as you’re here. You have my word.”

I eye him warily as the snowball begins to melt through my fingers. It falls to the table with a wet slap.

“How can I trust you’re telling the truth? How can I believe what I saw was real and not some foul trick of your magic?”

The King’s blue eyes narrow slightly before shaking his head.

“I cannot lie to you. It’s one of my many punishments.”

“Punishment for what?”

The Frost King waves a dismissive hand.

“I’m dangerously close to saying too much already.”

Rising from his chair, it scrapes against the tile floor. My heartbeat picks up as he rounds the table. He has removed his cape from earlier. He wears simple wool pants and a linen shirt with silver threading—his crown sparkles atop his head. The open collar of his shirt peels back, and I glimpse the hard contours of his chest. The memory of those muscles pressing against me floods my mind and heat spreads up my neck.

I want to kick myself for such a reaction. The Frost King is why I’m trapped here—thinking about his muscles is not bringing me any closer to freedom.

He continues to prowl towards me, his eyes glowing with awareness.

“My magic won’t keep him away for long. Soon, there won’t be enough to keep him contained at all.”

The King reaches me, and before I can ask what he’s doing or who he’s referring to, he drops to his knees at my side. I stop breathing as he reaches a tentative hand out. He skims a finger over each of my cheeks. I should be recoiling—slapping his hand away and demanding he never touch me again. What I shouldn’t be doing is reveling in the sensation of his touch. As his finger skims over my cheek again, I am barely able to swallow down my moan.

I’ve never been touched like this by a male—elf or human. This has to be some trick, but the metallic scent of magic is missing. After a long day of traveling, the exhaustion must finally be catching up with me.

Obviously, I’m delirious from the journey and have lost my wits.

The Frost King inhales deeply, holding his breath as if savoring my scent. His eyes fall closed as his hand fully cups my cheek. The weight of it is terrifying and pleasant at the same time.

“You are my only hope,” he whispers. “I truly am sorry for bringing you into all of this. My actions were selfish—the same selfishness that got me into this mess in the first place. But when I saw you, I knew.”

“Knew what?” My cheeks heat at the breathy sound of my voice.

He shakes his head, white tendrils flopping over his pointed ears.

“It’s not time to share all of that.” His eyes open, and they pin me to my chair with their heated stare. “Not because I don’t want to but because I can’t. The more you learn, the easier it is for us to speak. That is the nature of that damned sorceress’s c?—”

He breaks off in a fit of coughs. It is as if the words were pulled from his mouth and the air sucked from his lungs. He coughs once more, his eyes outlined in red.

“Please,” he begs. The longing in his gaze burns me alive. “You can save us—save me. It’s always been you.”

A grimace mares his full lips, and the veins in his neck protrude.

“He’s waking up now,” The King groans. “Remember, the truth is buried deep. When the moon is high, the three stars will guide you to the key.”

His words are utter nonsense.

“I don’t understand. None of you speak plainly.”

Blue lips pull into a painful grin. His fingers on my face tighten as if he cannot bear to let me go.

“I’ve been waiting for you—longing all these centuries.”

A loud groan rips from his mouth as he doubles over on his knees. I watch in horror as the blue tinge to his skin loses its luster. His eyes turn feral and his mouth pulls into a sneer. The hand on my cheek is ice cold before he violently rips it away with a snarl.

His eyes are two blocks of ice chasing away any warmth I felt.

“Go to your room and stay there,” he commands, his voice returning to how it was this morning. “This dinner is over.”

His eyes rove over me with thinly veiled contempt. I’ve had just about enough of all of this. Between Glimmer’s riddles and the King's duel personalities, my head is starting to throb. I push back in my chair with force.

“What is going on? You can’t say?—”

The Frost King raises his hand, now tipped with deadly sharp claws. I swallow my words, my mouth running dry. The scent of metal invades my lungs.

“Enough,” he says bitterly.

With a wave of his hand, I’m thrown from the room. Invisible hands pull me through walls, my body passing through each one effortlessly. The magic encases my skin, making it feel oily. Twisting and turning through hallways and rooms, my stomach tips. My dinner races up my throat as the castle swirls around me.

I’m slammed into my body as my feet land inside my room. The door is open, and I rush towards it only for a strong wind to slam it shut in my face. Trying the handle is of no use. I’m locked inside.

Pounding my fist against the heavy stone door, I scream all my frustrations out against it.

“Let me out! Let me out!”

Tears burn in my eyes and pour down my cheeks. My hands ache from banging against the unforgiving surface. Everything I’ve shoved down rises to the surface, and I let it overflow. I cry and cry and cry until there is nothing left. Sliding to the floor, I tuck my knees against my chest and allow the sobs to subside.

This is the most confused I’ve ever been.

How can I uncover whatever plot is afoot here when no one makes any sense? The King looks at me with such longing that it tempts me to consider things I’ve never done before, only to turn into a beast that tosses me from the room without a second thought. How am I supposed to navigate such a male?

Glimmer and the King have both alluded to secrets buried deep. Whatever that means. If I can get back to my family by uncovering whatever this sorceress did here, I must try.

Even if I have no clue where to begin.