Page 21 of Eternally Rare

“Apologies, Prince Cailian,” one of the guards interrupts us, clearing his throat and standing tall. His uniform glistening with the frozen threads weaved in the silver material. “For interrupting, but you have a guest in the lobby.”

My heart hammers with hope. “Is it a dragon, by chance?”

He tilts his head in confusion, his eyebrows wrinkling in the middle as he stares at me. “No, Prince. It’s a woman. She smells of us, but isn’t? She says her name is—”

“—Rarity?” I rush to say, cutting him off.

“Yes, my Prince. She also brings wine from the humans. Sir, what are humans?” he asks and if it were any other guest, I would answer him, but it does not matter.

My other mate is here.

I rush out of bed, nearly tripping on the blankets before righting myself. “Such a small detail to what is truly important. I will answer you later.” I push by him, uncaring that he loses his footing and smacks against the wall.

“Cailian!” my brother calls for me and hear him say to the guard. “I’m sorry. This guest is of the utmost importance. Let the entire castle know now.”

I am sprinting down the wide, spiral staircase, wondering if today could bless me further than it already has. I stop at the bottom of the steps when I see Rarity, stunned to stillness by her beauty.

Immediately, I am in love with watching her. Every move she makes is graceful and curious. Her long white hair falls just above her hips. My mouth waters from her figure. She’s wearing an odd outfit like the one I saw her in the last time I was in Salem. Black jeans, she calls them, with a plain long-sleeveemerald-green shirt that makes her skin appear flawless, almost like a frozen sheet of ice from a river that has been unbothered.

She reaches for the chandelier, curious as ever, and touches one of the ice crystals. It falls and breaks in half on the ground. Rarity gasps, looking left and right but has yet to sense me. I smirk, watching her panic.

Bending down, she picks up the pieces, desperately looks around, and tosses it in one of the few planters I keep by the door.

“Damn it, Rarity. You’re not here five minutes and you’re breaking things,” she whispers to herself.

“As long as it is not my heart, I do not care what you break, My Snow,” I finally greet her.

She spins around, clutching the bottle of wine to her chest.

I stroll forward steadily, not too fast to scare her away, but with enough determination to show her I am ecstatic to see her.

“How long have you been there?” she asks, the words wavering with nerves.

I stand in front of her, bending down until we are nose to nose, but my hand sinks into the planter, picking up the two broken pieces from the chandelier. Her breath catches as we touch and our hair decides to dance again, daring to twist and hold onto one another.

“Long enough to watch you do this.” I pull my hair to the side, not wanting her to feel rushed and pressured, and lift the crystal into the air with a sly smirk on my face. “It is only ice, My Snow. Watch. Let me see your hand.”

She holds her hand out, palm up, and I place the two pieces there, pressing each in together.

“We can fix what is frozen,” I inform, holding my hand over hers and never looking away from her violet eyes. Magic pulsates between us, my palm vibrates as blue glows from our palms.

Removing my hand from hers takes all the cold I have inside me.

I lift the ice crystal in the air, the light from outside shines through the windows. An array of different colors radiates from the small insignificant object in my hand, but Rarity’s eyes are wide with excitement.

She is impressed.

I cannot help but feel as if I have done something monumental as she stares at the crystal. I stretch my arm and she follows it, watching as I freeze it to its rightful place.

“Can you do it again?” she nearly squeals with giddiness.

I chuckle, lifting my hand over her head, and then snow begins to fall, completely disappearing in her hair since the color is the same. The long tendrils glitter, coming to life as they feel the power of where Rarity belongs.

Her smile does not fade, if anything, it becomes bigger. She spreads out her hands, the snow gathering in her dainty palms. The small flecks of ice land on her cheeks, absorbing into her flesh, becoming one with her body, and just like me, her own frozen pattern spreads across her cheekbones in a light lavender color.

I have never met another who holds the color violet inside them. Her eyes, the ice on her cheeks, she must be the only one of her kind.

Daringly different yet dared to be mine.