Page 35 of Gifted to the Frost King

With a snap of his fingers, the blood is cleared from both of our clothes. Frosty dips into a dramatic bow, holding out his hand towards me.

“Allow me, my sweet Dove, the privilege of receiving another of your perfect kisses.”

I smile at him before taking his hand. He tucks me into his side, and I immediately feel at ease.

“You can start with taking me back to the library,” I say. “I’m eager to learn more.”

The King smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Whatever you want, Dove. Always.”

Seatedin the library with a fresh pot of ink, I trace over the three letters before me.

“What’s that spell?” Frosty asks gently, peering over my shoulder.

“‘H’, ‘E’, ‘R’,” I read. “Her.”

His blue eyes sparkle.

“Excellent work, Dove. I’m impressed with just how quickly you’re picking this up.”

As was I. We had been in the library for a few hours. My cloak sat drying in front of the roaring fireplace, along with my leatherboots. My stocking-clad feet glide along the smooth tiles of the floor as I absorb his praise.

Frosty is an excellent teacher. He is patient and corrects me gently whenever I make a mistake. Even my penmanship has shown vast improvements. I’m farther along in understanding than I thought I’d be after just one day.

“Would you like to move on to a more difficult task?”

“What would that entail?” I ask.

Pulling out the chair beside me, he slides onto it with fluid grace. Suddenly the air is sucked from the room. His eyes dip to my mouth, and the memory of our frantic kissing in the woods returns. The memory heats my blood for the fiftieth time since we arrived in the library.

I clench my thighs together under the table.

“I’ll give a series of words, each getting progressively more difficult.” His eyes heat. “For each one you get right, I’ll kiss you. As a reward, of course.”

I raise a brow even as I feel my face flush.

“That sounds like more of a reward for you.”

His smile widens.

“A mutually beneficial reward, then.”

Despite my desire to feel his lips again, my stomach turns. I drop his gaze and stare down at my piece of parchment. Trailing a finger against the textured edge, I gently shake my head.

“I don’t know…”

Frosty shifts on his chair beside me.

“Do you not want me to kiss you?”

My eyes meet his serious stare.

“N—no. I want that. It’s just—I’m worried that I won’t?—”

“You’ve come far, Dove. I think you’ll even impress yourself.” His lips curl into a smirk. “Besides, I want you to win these kisses, so don’t worry about the words being too hard.”

I let out a soft chuckle.

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