Page 56 of Gifted to the Frost King

“I’ll hold you to that, Jack,” I say.

Now it is his turn to shiver, his eyes falling shut.

“Say it again.”

“Hmm?”

“My name,” he pleads. “Say it again.”

Reaching up, I place my lips at his ear.

“Jack,” I whisper. “Jack.”

“You are a devious temptation,” he groans. “I need to find you some clothes before I give into my basic nature and fuck you senseless. I promised to be a good king.”

“Then we’d better not keep our people waiting.”

With a wave of his hand, we are dressed in matching royal apparel. My light blue dress is adorned with a fur trim, highlighting the snowflake around my neck. Jack’s pants and shirt are made of the same blue material with a silver thread trim.

He extends his hand towards me, and I grasp it. Together, we take our first step towards our shared future.

27

JACK

This day has been too long.

You’d think I'd have little to complain about after being freshly freed from a centuries-long curse. In truth, my complaints are nothing compared to what I once faced. No beast is laying dormant inside me—the only primal urges I feel are when I glimpse my beautiful mate and wish to ravish her. That can’t be helped, especially as I watched her be a gracious and compassionate queen. She easily aided our people by assuaging their concerns and offered answers when she could.

I’ll never get over how perfect she is—I thought it from the moment I glimpsed her in the vision shown to me by the sorceress. More importantly, she is kind. For the first time in five hundred years, the thought of the future does not fill me with dread. Instead, I feel light—happy. I am eager to meet each day and show that I have learned from my punishment.

It was harsh—at times unfair—but I made it out with the help of Dove. I will not be drawn back into it. Each day forward takes me further away from my cursed existence until it will all bleed into a distant memory. There is no longer any space in my heartfor anger or regrets. The organ seems only to have enough room for loving my mate.

She has saved me, and I’ll never stop being grateful for her. The need to show her how important she will always be to me pumps through my veins. Holding the small box, I can feel my parents’ proud smiles. They helped her when I needed them to, guiding her through every obstacle so we could end up together like this.

My kingdom is at rest as the blue moon shines above. In the coming days, I anticipate many questions my people will have about the centuries they’ve been asleep. For now, everything is quiet, and the only question I’m concerned about is the very serious one I’m about to pose to Dove.

Tucking the small box into my pocket, it seems to weigh a hundred pounds as I travel from the castle's bowels up to the king’s rooms. I never stayed in them as a prince—the memory of my father clung to the walls.

Now, I have claimed them for Dove and myself. My magic has been restored, and I transformed the room into one where we can spend every morning waking up together and each night wrapped around the other. Our future will be solidified inside that room. My blood heats in anticipation.

All day, I have managed to keep my hands off her. A feat a weaker male would have succumbed to. After watching her sway on her feet in the front room, I sent her to rest a few hours ago. Exhaustion had etched itself on her lovely face. My only hope is that she’s rested enough for what I have planned for her.

After the sorceress returned her to her true elven form, she is now as immortal as I am. Our life together will be endless, sprawling into centuries. I want her tied to me in every way—to leave no uncertainty that she is mine in the minds of anyone.

The thought quickens my steps as I take them two at a time. Rushing down the hallway, I open the doors to our room and amimmediately drawn to her. Clad only in a simple silk nightgown, I watch her nipples pebble against the front of it. Her eyes find mine as she gently glides a brush through her long, dark tresses. Mischief tips her lips upwards.

I pause at the entryway, my mouth going dry. Was there ever a male as lucky as I?

“Are you done being king for the evening?” she asks softly.

All the blood in my body races towards my cock.

“Yes,” I respond. “Now, I am merely a male. One is who is utterly obsessed with his mate.”

Her laugh tickles my skin and draws me closer. I watch her set the brush down beside her. The dark wave of her silken hair falls down her back. The nightgown she wears is barely more than a strip of blue fabric. Her creamy pale skin glows in the dim light.

She raises a brow.

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