Page 66 of Avidian
Instead, I look out the window as the truck rolls forward, watching the snow-covered landscape blur past.
“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, my voice almost lost in the hum of the engine.
Chapter Twenty
RULE 20 OF THE NEW ORDER: SOMETIMES, THE ONLY WAY TO FEEL ALIVE IS TO DANCE ON THE EDGE OF DISASTER.
“Come on,tell me where we’re going,” I say, blindfolded in the passenger seat. My fingers fidget in my lap, anticipation getting the better of me.
“I want it to be a surprise,” Malachi replies. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”
I huff but can’t deny the thrill. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before, and as much as I hate giving up control, the excitement outweighs my nerves. Or maybe it’s the two drinks we had at dinner loosening me up. Either way, the suspense is killing me.
Thankfully, the drive isn’t long. It feels like only a few minutes before he finally says, “Okay, don’t move. I’m coming to get you.”
I hear the engine cut off, and a second later his door slams shut. My senses heighten in the darkness as his footsteps crunch through the snow. When he opens my door, his hands are warm and steady as they grip my hips, lifting me effortlessly out of the truck. The motion sends a jolt of something through me, making my breath hitch.
“Alright,” he murmurs, guiding me a few steps forward with his hands on my shoulders. His touch lingers for a beat longer than necessary before he steps back. “This is perfect. Ready?”
“I’m ready.”
His fingers brush against my temple as he unties the blindfold, and I catch the warmth in his gaze before the cloth falls away. I blink, my eyes adjusting to the brilliance of lights.
“Oh my God,” I breathe.
In front of me stretches a winter wonderland come to life—a carnival blanketed in snow, but the first thing I notice is the Ferris wheel, its gondolas glittering like jewels in the moonlight.
“Welcome to the Winter Carnival of Devil's Lake,” Malachi says, stepping beside me, his hands slipping casually into his pockets as he watches me take it all in.
“Devil's Lake?” I repeat, the name snagging my attention.
“Yeah,” he says with a mischievous grin. “Isn’t it fitting I bring my very own little demon to a town called Devil's Lake?”
I blink at him, stunned for a second, before his laughter becomes contagious, and I burst out laughing too. “You’re impossible,” I say, shaking my head, but I can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.
He nods toward the bustling scene before us. Strings of glowing lights crisscross above the snowy lot, bathing everything in a soft, golden glow. A giant ice castle stands at the heart of the carnival, its jagged spires glittering like diamonds under the twinkling fairy lights. The air smells of roasted chestnuts, sweet pastries, and something warm—mulled cider maybe? Booths line the streets, selling everything from handmade crafts to steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Children dart past us, laughing and chasing each other with snowballs, while couples stroll hand-in-hand, bundled up against the cold.
“We have a winter carnival every year around this time,” Malachi says, stretching his arms. “What do you think?”
I let out a slow breath, marveling at the scene. “It’s magical.” The kind of magical that feels too good to be real, like something out of a storybook.
He leans closer, his breath warming my ear in the chilly night air. “Good. Tonight’s about fun. About us. No missions, no ghosts, no training. You deserve this, Kat.”
That sends a flutter through my chest, and I look up at him, seeing something unguarded in his expression, something I haven’t seen before. “Alright, Savior,” I say with a smile, trying to shake off the sudden vulnerability I feel creeping in. “Show me how Devil's Lake does winter.”
He holds out his hand. “Let’s start with the ice maze. Try not to get lost, demon.”
Malachi’s smile is infectious as I take his hand, the warmth of his fingers a welcome contrast to the biting cold. “An ice maze?” I echo, raising an eyebrow. “You do realize that sounds like an excellent place to get frostbite and die.”
“Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” he teases, tugging me toward the glowing entrance.
The maze is enormous, its walls made of thick, perfectly translucent ice that reflects the twinkling lights above like a kaleidoscope. The entrance arch glows with a soft blue light, and I can hear the muffled laughter and shouts of people trying to navigate its twists and turns.
“After you,” he says with a playful bow, gesturing for me to enter first.
“Chivalrous,” I remark, stepping in, the ice crunching softly beneath my boots.
The maze’s narrow pathways wind in unexpected directions, and the further in we go, the quieter it becomes, the walls absorbing the noise of the carnival outside. At one point, I reach a fork and glance back at Malachi, who’s still holding my hand.
