Page 6 of Jilted By Jack Frost
Behind us, the woman shouts, “Just hold on a minute! Fuck’s sake.” She grumbles the last part quietly enough that, were it not for the breezing wind that does my bidding, I likely wouldn’t have heard.
“Long time since someone talked to you like that, yeah? Especially a girl.”
How right Gabriel is. Most people do what I say and do it with a smile. Then they ask for some measly favor in return. Women commonly offer me their bodies for a night or two, hoping it will lead them to a crown.
But I do not plan on sharing my crown, my throne, and certainly not my kingdom. Especially with someone prophesied to be the ruin of all those things.
“I can’t say I missed it,” I lie, slowing to a stop before turning around, watching as the brown-haired woman runs toward us, cheeks flushed. Because of course I miss being spoken to like I’m a person, and not a god. I even miss arguing.
I have a feeling this woman knows how to argue.
“Go back to the castle.” I turn to Gabriel. “You’re no longer needed.”
“Jack, I don’t think—”
“—And I don’t care. Leave us.”
He hesitates for a long moment, jaw set with anger, but then goes, like the good little subordinate he is. Gabriel is the only one still willing to question me, though it’s still my will he bends to, my orders he heeds. I can tell it grates on his nerves. He would be less qualified for the job if it didn’t.
Though there are other reasons I keep him so close, it’s what has persuaded me to make him my right hand. His willingness to second guess me. And while I am more right than I am wrong, he is still a safety measure that helps me ensure I make the best decisions for my kingdom.
I watch as she approaches with heavy-footed steps through the snow. Her chest rises and falls with the weight of her panting breaths. She says, “I don’t know how I got here.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to figure it out, won’t you?”
She glares at me. “You can be an ass,Jack Frost, and leave me out here to freeze to death, or you can help me get the hell out of your ice kingdom so I can go home just like you asked me to.”
“You’re askingfor help.”
“No.” Her eyes flicker with aggravation. “I’m giving you an ultimatum: either you pull your head out of your ass and get me out of here, or I’ll curl up on your doorstep and slowly freeze to death.”
“That’s not how it works here. The cold won’t kill you.”
“Fine, then. I’ll just become your problem for the rest of my life.”
Given that even mortals don’t age past maturity here, that would be a very long time.
And I can’t have that. Not considering the… bond she and I have.
The faster I get her home, the faster I can stop thinking about her. My teeth are clenched tightly together as I eye her up and down, as if the answer might be written on her body somewhere.
My eyes scan her form, finding nothing but loose pants covering up long legs, shapeless white footwear that offends my very senses, and an oversized coat with her fists jammed deep in the pockets. A peek of fabric peeks out from under the coat—the same dull shade as those baggy pants she’s wearing.
She looks down at herself. “I’m a nurse. Trust me, this isn’t an outfit I like to be seen in anywhere outside of the hospital.” Then she pulls one hand out of her coat pocket and holds it out to me. “I’m Violet Jones.”
I look at her hand with a frown before turning away. “Come on, the sooner you leave, the better.”
Behind me, she scoffs. “No wonder nobody ever talks about what a charming man Jack Frost is.”
“Most who meet me wind up with pneumonia. A deathly case of it.”
I can’t see it, but somehow I know that Violet Jones rolls her eyes. “Just as I said.Charming.”
I sigh and glance back and forth between her and my castle, which I desperately regret leaving this morning. I should have ignored the warmth. I should have known that there is nothing good about something so meltingly soft for someone as ice cold as me.
Because this,her, could not possibly be good. Her being here at all, however it managed to happen, puts my entire kingdom in danger. She is a disease, a contagious one, if the prophecy is to be believed. The same prophecy that foretold of a mortal woman whose warmth would melt not just my frozen heart, but the very foundations of my realm.
I can feel it already—the way her presence makes the ice beneath my feet soften, how the perpetual frost coating my castle’s walls drips in steady rivulets since she arrived. Each smile she flashes, each defiant word she hurls my way, brings another degree of devastating heat.