Page 153 of The Heart of Winter

The feeling of being cared for, of mattering to someone, even on this godforsaken volcanic rock, was overwhelming. It was everything.

There was this one other living person who gave a damn whether I lived or died.

"I have to go back, Sariel. I have to find food."

"No way. I’ll go. The beach is just a few minutes away. I can make it on one leg."

"Hop there?" I let out a bitter laugh. "The stream’s edge is uneven and steep. You won’t be able to make it across. And the waves are strong today. They’re big. You’d never keep your balance on one foot. Even if you did—how would you dig? I dig with my feet. You can’t do that. Do you get that, Sariel?"

Silence.

Now that I’d spelled it out, he finally understood.

There were only two ways to dig for clams—kicking through the sand with your feet or using your hands. But using your hands meant bending down. And that meant exposing your clothes, arms, and stomachs to the freezing water. Hypothermia would hit fast. There was no way Sariel could do it.

At some point, I must have drifted. My head had slumped against his shoulder.

But the hunger didn’t let me sleep.

Mercilessly, it woke me up, and I forced my eyes open.

"I have to go. I have to—" I slurred.

"No chance, Winter. Come on. Lie down with me. Sleep. Rest."

I couldn’t fight him. Sariel practically dragged me out of the water.

We collapsed onto the mattress, and he pulled the blanket over us.

"It’s only midday," I mumbled. "We can’t waste this day! We have to find at least one meal."

Sariel pressed his lips to the top of my head.

"Winter. Right now, just sleep. Rest. Get some strength back. You don’t even realize how bad you look."

I gave a hollow laugh.

"Like a corpse? I bet I’m disgusting to look at."

His response was instant.

"That’s impossible."

His lips brushed my cheek, soft, warm.

"You’re the most beautiful ice elf I’ve ever met," he whispered.

And then, with a smile, he kissed my face again, one cheek, then the other.

"And the bravest. Like a true elven prince—fearless, never giving up."

His light touches on the skin of my face were so incredibly pleasant, I wanted him to keep going, stroking my head, skimming his fingertips over my cheeks and lips, just for that dazing shiver, to bask in his gentleness a bit longer, whilepretendingwe weren’t dying.

At the same time, I wanted to laugh; a wild, empty laugh full of dark irony. A fuckingiceelf was dying on an icy island, depleted of his energy by icy waves and icy wind…

But even so, the affection behind his words brought me a strange sense of relief.

Slowly, I closed my eyes.

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