Page 44 of Kiss of Frost

The lad followed his declaration with a sigh of relief loud enough to drown out the crackling fire. He wasn’t looking for a reply as he sat on the edge of the witch’s bed and checked her pulse for the hundredth time. The wisest course of action would have been to keep my mouth shut and let him tend to her. Nothing good could come from picking a fight with the boy.

“No thanks to you,” I said, glowering at his back from my spot next to the hearth. I leaned against the wall with my arms folded across my chest. My forearms rested over the ache, which had returned and now throbbed so fiercely it was all I could do to keep from groaning.

Callum stiffened. Slowly, he rose from the bed and faced me. He had to be cold in nothing but the trousers he’d yanked from one of the backpacks, but he’d been too focused on Georgie to see to his own comfort. He was fortunate—the lightning strike had shaken him up, but he’d healed as soon as he shifted to two legs. In a way, Georgie’s fall had spared him further injury. Once he no longer had to worry about keeping her on his back, he’d taken shadow form and halted his dangerous descent. He’d been an irritating presence at my side on the flight back to the castle, and he’d snatched the witch from my arms as soon as I touched down on the tower.

“I beg your pardon?” he demanded now, tension coiling around him like a snake. The storm had blown itself out, and the evening sunlight sheened his bare shoulders and gilded his ridiculous hair that was too stupid to figure out what color it should be. The light touched the ends of his curly eyelashes, which were also stupid. But his arm was whole, with no sign of the burn that could have cleaved his wing in two. His body would have regenerated. Then again, maybe not. He was so young. Dammit, he had no business flying into a blizzard. He could have been hurt. If the lightning had hit just a bit to the left… If the bolt had struck him in the head…

The ache burrowed deeper, and I wanted to claw at my chest to make it stop.

Instead, I stared at the lad and said, “You’re a fool.”

“Aye, that’s true.”

The admission was strangely disarming. Most people weren’t so quick to admit their faults. I’d expected an argument—or at least some kind of smart-ass response. His easy acceptance made me feel boorish as I said, “You shouldn’t have taken her up there.”

“Also true, but I didn’t have much choice.” Callum flashed a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Someone kept denying her passage to the North.” He moved forward, his strong, lean body as ridiculous as his hair. “Then someone tried to screw me against a wall before using me as a punching bag.” He stopped a short distance away. “Someone,” he said softly, “is an arsehole.”

A growl rumbled in my throat. The ache spread in my chest. “You play with fire.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Will you hurt me again?”

My chest burned. The memory of him skidding across the ground flashed in my head. A second kind of discomfort joined the ache, and it felt like…regret. It twisted deep, sinking past muscle and sinew until I couldn’t stand still. I couldn’t stand it, and I reached for my chest but ended up reaching for him. Then he was in my arms with his back to the wall as he’d been in the caldarium, and I loomed over him with all his stupid, ridiculous beauty under my hands.

“You…” I dragged in a breath, wincing when the ache delved deeper. “You tried to seduce me.”

Callum’s eyes fired bright green. “Tried?” His voice turned silky. “Oh, I never try, sweetheart. When I want someone, I get them.” He lifted a hand like he meant to stroke my beard.

I caught it and pinned it beside his head. “You won’t get me, demon.”

“I already have you.” He held my gaze, seemingly untroubled by my grip on his wrist or his position between me and the wall.

“You don’t,” I insisted. The ache shoved deeper, stealing my breath. I panted against Callum’s lips as tears burned my eyes. “You don’t have me. I’m not yours.”

“Is that why you came for me?” He used his free hand to catch a tear that spilled down my cheek. When he flicked it away, a diamond bounced over the floor’s wooden planks.

I caught his other wrist and pinned that one too. “Don’t,” I tried to growl, but the order emerged as a sob, and I wasn’t sure if I pleaded with him or myself.

“You came for me. You couldn’t let me go.”

More tears streaked down my face, turning to diamonds as they tangled in my beard. “You fell,” I said, nightmare visions filling my head. His beast screaming in agony as lightning struck his wing. His bleeding body plunging toward the frozen ground. I shook the images away, and my fingers tightened on his wrists. “How could you put yourself in that kind of danger? I told you not to go North!”

“You came for me.”

“Stop saying that!”

His gaze didn’t waver, and neither did his voice. “You came for me.”

“I shouldn’t have,” I snarled, the ache ripping into my guts. “I should have let you fly away, and then I could have been rid of you. And I would have finally had peace. No more listening for the sound of your voice or worrying where you are or thinking about the things you make me—” I snapped my mouth shut.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes glowing so brightly they cast tiny pools of green light on his cheeks.

The ache exploded into a thousand razor-sharp pieces that shredded the last of my restraint.

“You make me feel,” I rasped, and then I grabbed his face and crushed my lips to his. And the bother that had leaked around the barriers in my mind burst forth, washing away indifference and exposing all the anger and desire I’d denied. The first fueled the second, turning the kiss hot and aggressive. Callum tangled his hands in my hair as he thrust his hips against mine. So hard and perfect.

I yanked his head back and sucked at his throat, tasting fire and salt. His pulse thundered against my tongue. I followed the throbbing vein down his neck to his collarbone. Dipped my tongue in the hollow of his throat before painting kisses over one round, thick pec. And I couldn’t stop. I took one flat, pink nipple into my mouth and sucked. Then I bit down.

“Fuck,” he rasped, jerking against the wall.

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