Page 73 of Kiss of Frost

Georgie made a low, angry sound. The North Wind hovered, its form shifting and reforming into various shapes. A dozen faces flashed across the lightning-streaked currents.

Callum released me and stepped closer to Circe. My gut clenched, and I reached out to haul him back, but Georgie put a staying hand on my arm.

“You’re right,” Callum said softly as he stared down at Circe. “I’m good for pleasure. I understand desire better than anyone, mortal or immortal. Commoner or queen.” He knelt abruptly, his knee next to Circe’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. Her eyes jerked sharply, and I realized she couldn’t turn her head. The North Wind pinned her completely.

Callum’s voice was steady. Patient. “I can see your desires,” he told Circe. “I see everything. And you want Graeme so much you’ve let it consume you. But you don’t love him.”

“Yes, I do,” she hissed, her eyes turning hateful.

“No,” Callum said. “There is no love in you.” He rose and stood over her. His power shimmered around him, casting green light over the snow and Circe’s face. When he spoke, his words range with truth. “But there is love in Graeme. I’ve seen his desires, too. I’ve seen everything he wants. Every fantasy. Every hidden, secret dream. And he never, never wanted you. And he never will. You can enslave him. You can kill everyone he loves. You can burn the world until you’re the only thing he sees. And he will never want you. Never.”

Circe blinked up at him. Then her face crumpled. She wailed, her grief climbing and swelling until her scream filled the caldera. She screamed and screamed until her voice gave out and the sound ceased. Even then, her mouth stretched open. Her eyes stared at the sky, madness in the blue depths.

Georgie stepped forward, her gaze on the North Wind. “Death can be a kindness,” she murmured.

The column shivered. For one brief moment, a woman appeared. She inclined her head.

Georgie moved next to Callum. In one swift movement, she swept her hand from the North Wind to Circe, then yanked it back sharply.

Circe gasped. Her skin shriveled, wrinkling and sticking to her bones. Then she turned to dust.

The woman in the North Wind moved forward. As she approached Georgie, she shifted into a young, smiling man with blue hair. He stopped before Georgie and bowed his head.

DAUGHTER OF THE AIR. YOU HAVE MY THANKS.

Georgie caught her breath. Her voice trembled. “You’re welcome. Um, it was nothing, really.”

The boy’s smile broadened. Then he looked at Callum, and he shifted again, forming and reforming into a woman who was somehow both old and young and every age in between. Affection danced in her eyes as she lifted her gaze to Callum’s hair. A light wind ruffled his waves, tugging a playful lock over his forehead.

“Oh,” he said, reaching up and shoving it back. “That happens a lot.”

The affection in the woman’s eyes deepened. She lowered her gaze to his chest, and the breeze sighed. PURE HEART.

Callum lowered his head, his cheeks dusted with pink.

The North Wind approached me last. By the time it reached me, tears flowed down my face. The wind didn’t take a form as it stood before me. Maybe it knew I didn’t want to see anything I couldn’t be certain was real.

“Do you know where he is?” I asked, my throat burning. “Is he…happy?”

The wind twisted and swirled, building and building and folding in on itself. For the briefest moment, I caught a glimpse of him.

Hamish.

He faced away, his red hair shining in light that came from everywhere and nowhere.

YOU CAN GO TO HIM.

I jerked my gaze to the top of the column. My heart pounded so hard I felt lightheaded.

YOU CAN GO TO HIM, the North Wind repeated. HE IS YOUR MATE.

“But…” My tears flowed faster. “I have others.”

YOUR CHOICE WAS TAKEN FROM YOU ONCE. I RETURN IT TO YOU NOW.

I looked at Hamish, at the long spill of his hair. I could go to him. Or I could stay with Georgie and Callum.

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