Page 25 of Kiss of Frost

She moved across the chamber. Callum stuck to her heels as she stopped at the bar of sunlight and tipped her head back to meet my eyes. Her cheeks were wind-chapped. Dark circles made half-moons under her eyes. She needed care. Callum should have never brought her North.

The ache in my chest spread. Under my sternum, long, bony fingers stretched toward my shoulders. I unfolded my arms to relieve some of the pressure, but it didn’t help. I must have injured myself during the fight.

“I have to get to the Oracle,” Georgie said. “The elders of my house gave me a quest. If I don’t fulfill it, they’ll never accept me as my father’s successor.”

“What’s the quest?”

She hesitated. “I have to capture the North Wind—”

“Absolutely not.”

“I won’t keep it forever!”

“No.” I turned and strode to the door.

“Wait!” She followed, her footsteps rapid behind me. “You don’t understand.” She grabbed at my arm.

I whipped around, my hand aloft and poised for attack. Snowflakes danced above my palm as they awaited my command.

Callum moved swiftly, tucking Georgie behind him. His green eyes were hard, all signs of humor gone. I had several inches on him, and I’d bested him once already, but he showed no sign of fear as he faced off with me.

“Unseelie magic tricks,” he said, shooting an angry look at the snow swirling above my hand.

He was right. My mother had hailed from one of the dark courts. Only the Unseelie could wield the elements as weapons. I didn’t possess all of my mother’s gifts. I couldn’t read minds or charm others into doing my bidding. But I could cloak myself when I chose to stay hidden. And I could bend winter to my will.

I let the snow form into dozens of needle-sharp icicles. Ice coated my tone. “My magic trick grazed you the first time. If you give me cause to strike a second time, boy, rest assured you won’t get up again.”

Callum’s nostrils flared. “You—”

“Please,” Georgie said, shoving her way in front of him. “There’s no reason to fight.” Her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breaths. A wild pulse fluttered in her throat.

The ache tugged hard in my chest.

Georgie frowned, the anxious look in her bright purple eyes shifting to obvious confusion. Over her shoulder, Callum’s eyes gleamed just as brightly.

But the colors were all wrong. The eyes that mattered to me—the only eyes that had ever mattered to me—were a soft, sweet brown. They smiled easily. When they were glazed with passion, they turned the color of amber.

Those eyes were more precious than honey. And just as distant.

I closed my fist around the ice, letting it sink into my skin and flow through my veins. It must have shone in my eyes, because Callum shuffled back, nudging the witch with him.

“I grant no permission to approach the Oracle,” I told them. “I’ll have food and drink in the Great Hall for you in one hour. You’ll take sustenance, and then you’ll take your leave from Gelhella and never return.”

I took shadow form and slipped through the keyhole, leaving my clothing and memories behind.

Chapter Eight

GEORGIE

For a moment after Graeme left, I stared at the pile of his clothes that had plopped to the floor. My heart pounded as a tiny, niggling, impossible thought fluttered at the edges of my mind.

No. No way. It couldn’t be.

Why not? the impossible thought asked.

Because this is the last thing I need.

Great, now I was arguing with rogue, disembodied thoughts. But the tugging in my chest was difficult to ignore. For some reason I couldn’t fathom, I wanted to step over the clothes and go after Graeme.

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