Page 24 of The Heart of Winter

A privileged little rich kid nobody wanted around. That’s who I was to them. Yeah, I got that right.

And maybe I deserved it?

Maybe I really was a damn pimple on everyone’s backside, an annoying little blemish that needed to be removed from the environment of all hard-working people.

Then I felt it. Something warm slid down my freckled hand.

For fuck’s sake! A tear? It was so embarrassing! Was I really falling apart like this?

Of course I was, a fucking emo, after all. But what could I do? No one was ever going to sympathize with me. That’s just how it is for rich kids. We’re hated. It’s the default setting. We’re the disgusting little punks who deserve every bad thing that comes our way.

"Leave us," Winter ordered, his voice sharp.

The HR beta hesitated for half a second before practically vanishing. And I couldn’t blame him. If I could’ve swapped places with him, I would have, in a heartbeat.

I swallowed hard and, with real fear, lifted my gaze to Winter.

The ice prince. He stood before me, radiating frost, a snowstorm in human form, cutting through the air like a million razor-thin shards of ice. And his eyes…

Hmmm.

"Quite an unexpected reaction," he murmured. "I wonder where it’s coming from."

Okay, so he wanted to know?

Here we go…

"I didn’t want to work here!" I whimpered like a child, more tears threatening to spill. Damn traitors—my own emotions making a fool of me. "I never asked for this! Quite the opposite! He insisted! If I’m really such a damn disaster for your whole setup, then—" I stopped and rubbed my face to wipe away the tears.

Winter was silent, tilting his head slightly. His thick ponytail shifted over his shoulder, white strands spilling onto the elegant steel-gray fabric of his suit.

For a few seconds, his eyes dropped to my chest, where the scene I’d drawn yesterday was printed on my T-shirt. Did something flicker in his gaze, surprise, maybe? Or just more hate. That seemed more likely.

"So we’re both trapped in an unfortunate situation," he said at last. "I suggest a truce, Lowen. Let’s not get in each other’s way. That would be best. Stay away from me, got it? And maybe we’ll both survive this."

Sniffling, I wiped my eyes and slowly pushed myself up, still swaying. My chest ached, something deep, something intense. A terrible sadness settled there, heavy and unshakable.

I once heard that the worst pain in the world is a True Mate rejection. That it burns like hellfire. This wasn’t that. Not even close. And yet, it almost felt like it, like I was being broken over a wheel.

"Alright," I whispered weakly.

Winter nodded. "You’ll be under Manager Lorens’ supervision. He’ll make sure you’re properly onboarded."

For a moment, we just stared at each other—an odd, involuntary pause.

I lowered my gaze to his lips again. A crazy move in this situation, really. But they were just so… different. The soft outline, the fullness, the plushness that seemed out of place. They should have been sharp, thin, as cold as the rest of him. But they had a sweetness to them, something that didn’t belong.

Of course, this time, I made sure my face didn’t give anything away. But the image of that strange kiss kept creeping back into my mind. I’d even given it a name.

A kiss with the enemy.

Because wasn’t that exactly what he was?

This dude fought hard against my hiring. Against my father, the powerful CEO. That kind of hatred must have run deep, giving him the kind of reckless courage, even if it could cost him his position.

I’ve always respected people with fearlessness because it was the complete opposite of me. A coward. My second name.

The sound of soft knocking interrupted my brooding.

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