Chapter 13

It had taken a while of sitting on her bottom and staring at the frosty stone walls of her cell before she'd come up with a plan to get out. And it had come because she'd gotten a splinter running her hand aimlessly along the edge of the cot.

It was made of wood and was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture she'd ever sat on in her life, but it would be useful nonetheless.

She ducked under the cot and lifted it off two of its legs to get a good look at the underside. It was made of slats that were nailed to a wooden frame. The slats were thinner than the frame and legs, so she aimed for them when she kicked the cot. Her foot immediately hurt, as her boots were soft fabric and lined with wool.

Better a broken toe than a life of dark magic and servitude to Jack Frost.

After repeated kicks, several curses of the tinsel! variety, and what she was certain were at least two broken bones in her right foot, she heard the satisfying crack of one of the slats. She pulled the broken slat free and set the cot back against the wall. Taking the slat to the stone, she used the rough-hewn surface like sandpaper to sharpen the jagged edge.

She hadn't seen anyone in a while and had no idea how long she'd been in the cell, so she worked as fast as she could in case someone came to check on her. After some work, the slat had a sharp, pointed tip and a tapered edge that would surely do some damage. It wasn't as if she was prone to violence, and the thought of hurting someone made her stomach roll. But the people who worked for Frost were evil and couldn't be redeemed, a sad truth. Once he stole their magic, there was no hope to return them to their former life; they became a shell of who they were, loyal to Frost above all else.

She heard a door creak open and sucked in a sharp breath.

Her hands were trembling as she climbed back onto the cot and gripped her sharpened slat in her right hand, pressing it against her calf to hide it from view. Resting her head on her bent knees, she slowed her breathing even though her heart was pounding furiously and pretended to be asleep.

Heavy footsteps drew closer and a scuffing sound alerted her to someone stopping in front of her cell. She didn't move a muscle even though adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

"Get up."

She stayed still, not even flinching, for which she was pretty dang proud of herself.

He smacked the bars. "Get up, damn it."

She tightened her grip on the slat, the rough wood digging into her palm.

"Damn it."

The male wasn't Frost, that much she was sure of, but she didn't care who it was. She wanted to get free before Frost decided to steal her magic instead of waiting until the solstice. If she would even survive that long here in the cell. As an elf, she was made for the cold temperatures, but even she wouldn't be able to handle the continual chill and no food or drink for too long.

There was a whispered string of words which she thought were probably a spell of some sort. She was certain that the cell had been magically sealed instead of using a traditional lock and key, because she hadn't seen a lock on any of the bars. There was a rumble and then a creak.

Steps drew close to her and she remained still, taking in a slow, deep breath as quietly as she could and without moving her body.

"Fucking elf."

A hand touched her shoulder and she swung the slat up and to the left. The male shrieked as the slat embedded in his body, warm blood coating her fingers. She took only a moment to look at the male as he backed away, gripping the slat embedded in his neck.

His eyes were dark and ringed with purple and his skin was gray.

She knew who he was on those details alone—Azure, one of the only warlocks to ever be turned evil. Well, he could rot like a Christmas log for all she cared.

Darting through the open bars, she hooked a left and raced down the corridor as fast as her injured foot allowed. When she reached the end of the corridor, she froze. Which way should she go?

She touched the mark on her neck from Knox's fangs and closed her eyes. She hadn't really felt connected to him since she'd woken up, but now? She felt something . And it was toward the right.

Turning in that direction, she moved as quickly and quietly as possible. Torches were flickering along the walls, but they weren't very bright. She reached the end of the corridor and the feeling she had grew stronger.

She tugged on the handle of the wooden door, and it creaked as it swung open.

"Funny meeting you here."

Frost!

Knox raced across the frozen ground toward Frost's lair. Maverick and Chase were by his side, Alder and Marcus behind him, and several other Guardians and elves from the security force with them. He had a knife strapped to his thigh in case he needed it, but he planned to use his claws or shift if he had to.

The closer he got to Frost's lair, the stronger the connection to Ivy grew within him. His leopard was vibrating with anger that she'd been taken but elated that he could still feel her. It meant she was alive. He just hoped she hadn't been turned to evil. He wasn't sure what a turning would do to their connection, and he certainly didn't want to find out.

In the darkness ahead, a spill of light illuminated a stairwell, and a figure appeared dragging someone with him. Knox knew in his heart that it was Frost and Ivy.

As the door swung wide, he could see the most evil Warlock in the world holding the most precious female in his life.

"That's quite far enough," Frost said loudly, his voice echoing in the darkness.

He could see Frost gripping Ivy by the back of her shirt and dragging her with him out of the stairwell as she limped along. One of her feet was injured, and she couldn't put weight on it.

"Ivy!"

She cried out as Frost shook her a little.

He could smell her tears even yards away and his cat went berserk. He hissed and snarled, his fangs erupting from his gums and his claws unsheathing from the tips of his fingers.

"I see your boss doesn't want to get his hands dirty," Frost taunted.

Knox knew that Santa didn't stray too far from Northernmost because it was too dangerous for him the closer it got to Christmas. He'd been able to leave Northernmost earlier in the month, but it was too risky now.

"Let her go," Knox said. He moved forward a few steps and Ivy cried out again, a gasping sob that made his heart clench.

"You can be sure to tell your boss what it looked like when I took her magic and turned her into one of my followers. It'll be my pleasure to add her to my army." Frost leaned down and a glow appeared to come from inside his mouth. It wasn't golden like the Well of Magic, but a deep purple color.

Ivy screamed as the dark purple glow began to saturate her skin.

Everything in Knox narrowed down to her pain.

He was not about to lose her to fucking Jack Frost.

The rush of footsteps told him they'd walked into an ambush, but he didn't care. He only cared that Ivy was hurt and he had to stop it.

As the people with him went to battle, he unsheathed the knife and raced forward.

Ivy's upper body was covered with the dark purple glow and she'd gone limp in Frost's hold. Letting the knife loose, he threw it at Frost's chest. At the last second, Frost knocked it out of the air with a swipe of his magic, but it was just the distraction Knox needed. Grasping a handful of icy snow, he launched a snowball at Ivy's head, knocking her free of Frost's grasp. She fell to the ground in a heap, covered with snow and glowing purple.

Frost snarled. Knox touched his cat for speed and power, his claws glinting in the light. He swung and hit nothing.

Frost was gone, and the door to his lair was shut and had been cloaked by magic. He knew where it was, but he couldn't see it.

Lifting Ivy into his arms, he growled at the strange scent coming from her, like sulfur and burnt wood.

"Alder! Marcus!" he yelled as he raced back toward Northernmost. "I need you!"

"We've got your back, let's go!" Alder shouted, shoving an evil follower down and stabbing it in the heart with his blade.

He ran back to Northernmost as fast as he could, worry for his mate overriding everything else. Could he get her to safety? Could Santa help her?

Would she be okay?