Page 27 of Gifted to the Frost King

“Yes—but I don’t remember why.”

Tucking her back into my pocket, the necklace flutters at my throat, urging me forward. I reach for the handle, turning it only for cold air to cut through me. Unlike the one last night, this room is not empty.

It is a bedroom—a disgustingly ornate one at that. Silver furniture and bejeweled dressers dot every inch of the room. There are multiple love seats adorned with crystalized pillows arranged before a dormant fireplace. The bed is a thing ofwonder—larger than the one in my room and covered in all manner of silks and furs.

Off in the corner sits a trunk peaking out from below a white sheet. I recognize it from the last memory. It was a part of Frosty’s childhood room.

There is a tinkling in the air as a circle of light illuminates the massive bed. Resting inside the beam is a large egg the size of my palm. It is dark blue and adorned with silver jewels. It pulses in the light, radiating a power of its own.

Glimmer gasps and flies from my pocket towards it. She stops short of touching it, urging me forward with a wave. Her wings flap rapidly.

“I know what this is,” she breathes. “TheCrystal Egg. It is what the first snow fairy was born from. It was stolen from my people centuries ago. Why would it be here?”

I shake my head and reach for the item. As soon as my fingers graze it, the familiar sensation of being thrown through time shakes me. My body twists and trembles, and the world around me blurs until I land on my feet back inside this room.

Everything is the same, except for the bright light slipping through the windows. The furniture sparkles obscenely. Somehow, the sight fades as I take in the grouping of bodies moaning and thrusting on the bed.

My jaw falls open at the scene. There are five frost elf females scattered amongst the silk sheets. Their delicately pointed ears and glittering white hair fall over their bare breasts. Beside them are three frost elf males, two with shoulder-length white hair and one with hair shorter than the Frost King’s. They expertly twist and turn, using their mouths and hands to bring each other pleasure.

I don’t know where to look or if I even should. It’s hard even to see what’s going on with the amount of bodies. The sounds of coupling fill the room. The only noise breaking it up is a riotousbanging outside the room. The sound never gives the bodies on the bed pause. They carry on until the door sounds like it is about to break off the hinges.

A white fur blanket flies off the bed, exposing everything and everyone, including the male at the center of the bed. He pulls himself away from two more frost elf females that had been hidden from view.

It’s him—the Frost King. He looks younger than the male I’ve come to know. The sight of him with all of these others makes my chest hurt. I rub the spot, feeling ridiculous. However, that doesn’t stop the potent taste of jealousy from coating my tongue.

He has no claim on me nor I on him, but something about this scene makes me feel sick. Perhaps it is the cruel gleam in his eye, the one that reminds me of the beast he claims to be nothing like. Clearly, that was not always the case, as his skin is its normal luminous shade, and his hands are not tipped in claws.

“What?” he snarls towards the door.

It bangs open, and in walks an older elf male. Not the one from the first vision. This male wears some sort of uniform. There is disdain in his gaze as he takes in the scene but says nothing. The Frost King settles the sheet over his lap before snapping his fingers, and the two females at his side peel away and begin engaging with others in the bed. A goblet of wine manifests in his grip, and he downs it in one gulp.

“Sire, you have been neglecting your duties. The other lords believe?—”

“Why would I give a fuck what the other lords think?” Frosty sneers, slurring his words. “I am the king. Kings do as they please.”

“Your father has been gone for two winters.Two winters, you have been our king, and your realm has hardly seen you. You hole up here with your—your—” The other male inhales deeplyto regain his composure. “I understand you are still grieving. Your father was a wonderful male, but?—”

“Do not speak about my father,” the Frost King grounds out.

“Your father,” the other male growls, “would not want his one and only son fucking and drinking all hours of the day while his people starve. Not to mention the snow fairies, they demand to know what you are doing to locate their missing egg. They are calling for retribution on whoever took it.”

A cruel gleam dances in the Frost King’s eye. With a sinister twist of his wine-stained lips, he lets out a soft chuckle before shaking his head.

“Retribution? Demands? Who do those little beasts think they are?”

The other male’s skin pales.

“They are your subjects, sire. You are meant to protect them. Whoever stole the egg must be?—”

“Punished?”

With a wave of his hand, the sparkling egg I had seen in the room before manifests in his palm. Its power pulsates even in the memory. The Frost King gives it a causal toss before catching it midair. I grit my teeth at his carelessness.

“You didn’t. Please tell me you weren’t the one who stole it, King?—”

“Of course I did. Those little pests can do without their prized possession.” His lips flatten into a line. “If I am to suffer, so must we all.”

“Sire,” the other male calls. With a wave of the Frost King’s hand, the egg disappears in a flash of blue light.

---