Page 17 of Kiss of Frost

“How did you lose him, lass? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind,” she said softly. “He died after a duel. Both of my parents died that way, actually. They were legendary duelists among the houses.” She gave me an inscrutable look. “Do you know how dueling works among witches?”

I did, but I wanted to hear it from her. I wanted her voice in my ears and her explanations instead of the scraps of knowledge I’d picked up here and there. “A little.”

“Every witch is born with a root element. For example, Niall Balfour’s element is water. Mine is air, obviously. But most witches want to gain others. In rare instances, a witch might receive an element as a gift. But more often, we duel for them. The winner rips their opponent’s element away by force. Losing it will weaken a witch for a time, however, we recover eventually.”

“But not if you lose your root element,” I said, and I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, lass. I had no idea you were all alone in the world. But you’re not alone anymore.” I tossed my hiking poles to the ground and pulled one of my gloves off so I could brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “You’ve got me. We came together in a rush, and I’m not complaining. But I know you need more. I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything.”

Her lashes fluttered as she drew an unsteady breath. “Callum…”

My magic tugged in the center of my chest. I let it have its way for a moment, and faint images spun behind my eyes as I gazed at my mate. “I’m going to erase all those doubts that keep bouncing around your pretty head, witchling.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say pretty little head.”

“Aye, I try not to be an idiot.”

Her lips curved. As fast as it came, her smile faded. “You don’t have any doubts? About us, I mean?”

“Not a one. You’re everything I ever wanted.” My voice went husky as I stroked my thumb over her mouth again. She had the most adorable spray of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose. “You’re perfect, Georgie.”

Her desire swirled into my nostrils, the heady scent curling phantom fingers around my dick and stroking hard. I suppressed a groan as I rested my forehead against hers. “I want to give you that spanking you’re thinking about.”

Purple eyes jumped to mine. “Wh-What?”

“You heard me,” I murmured.

“You say that a lot.”

“You pretend to misunderstand a lot.” I tipped her chin up and kissed her. And, oh, she was sweet. And warm. Even in the depths of eternal winter, Georgie set me aflame. I cupped her face in both hands and tangled my tongue with hers, drinking her in. Drowning in her. She was cherry blossoms and vanilla and a hint of something deliciously dark and wicked.

“Witchy,” I murmured against her mouth. “Mmm, Georgie, I want to fuck you right here in the snow.” Her breath hitched, and I slid my hands down her body to her backside that had been teasing me all day. I grabbed two handfuls of firm, round bottom and squeezed. “As soon as we’re done with this quest, I’m going to put my handprints all over your arse. Spread you over my thighs and swat these pretty cheeks until they’re hot and pink.”

“I… I don’t know…”

“You’ll say yes.” I nipped her bottom lip. “You’ll say yes several times, actually. Over and over, begging me like the good little witch you are. And when I tell you to part your thighs, you’ll obey, Georgie mine. Let me slide my fingers from your pink arse to your pink pussy, where you’ll be so slick for me. I can’t wait. Gonna lick you off my fingers and go back for seconds.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, gripping my jacket in two tight fists.

“Make that bad little witch.” I swatted her ass, and she squealed against my mouth. “I should punish you for making me hard in the most inconvenient sex location known to man.”

Her shaky laughter puffed over my chin. “You are one filthy dragon.”

“I am, sweetheart.” I kissed my way down her neck and nosed her turtleneck aside so I could suck at her skin. I spoke in between kisses and gentle bites. “I’m a…filthy…besotted…incorrigible beastie.” But I was also in very real danger of doing something stupid like making love to her in the middle of Gelhella. As much as I wanted to curl up in her heat and stay there for an age, I wouldn’t put her in danger. Summoning every ounce of willpower I possessed, I pulled back. “We should keep moving.”

For a moment, she swayed, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. Then she shook herself, the blush in her cheeks spreading down her neck. “Of course.” She cleared her throat and launched into a flurry of fussy movements, straightening her hat and patting her braids into place. As I retrieved my hiking poles, she called out, “Wait!”

I froze, my senses primed for an attack. “What is it?”

“The tip of your nose is pink.” She unzipped her jacket and retrieved a small glass bottle. She hesitated as she uncorked it. “It’s a warming potion. You, um, don’t have to take it if you’re nervous.”

She thinks I don’t trust her. She had good reason. Among the Firstborn Races, witches had a reputation for sneakiness. They sold their spells and curses, mixing the incantations into potions and poisons. The witches claimed they were simply doing business, and they didn’t discriminate when it came to their clientele. They’d sell to one man on Monday and turn around and sell to his enemy on Tuesday. The majority of immortals considered those practices dishonorable. Untrustworthy.

I took the bottle from her and sniffed it. “Smells nice. Potions are good, right?”

“Right. They’re infused with spells, which are benevolent.”

“And poisons are bad. You load them up with curses.”

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