Page 129 of Frost and Death
Jerrick moves behind me, his legs stretch around my body before he touches my side.
“I’m going to ease you upward. Is that alright?” he asks.
Gratitude hums in my chest. It is reassuring and comforting despite the daunting thought of moving. But I brace myself and muster my strength, nodding quickly to Jerrick.
The movement is swift and over before my next heartbeat, Jerrick pulling my back to him.
I keep pressure on my stomach, my chin dipping as another ricochet of cramps explodes. I tense, wincing, and I immediately regret moving too fast.
Jerrick trails his hand around my neck, guiding my head up to rest against him. His heartbeat is erratic in my ear, my own drowned out by the sound of his.
A need surges forth when more than his hard chest presses against me.
My nipples harden as his hands snake above my breasts, a teasing caress before removing my hands from my stomach.
I close my eyes from his touch so close to my center as he leans in, whispering softly, “I’m here, I’ve got you, Frostbite.”
His soothing voice uncoils the tension from my neck and down my spine. His words and hands envelop me in a blanket of safety.
I release a breath, giving him permission.
Jerrick remains close as his magic flares to life. His power is recognizable, the essence of power reminding me of my own.
Heat radiates through his palms as they hold a light pressure against my abdomen. The balm his abilities offer uncoils my muscles one at a time, and my entire body submerges in warmth and relaxation.
“Mmmm,” I moan my gratitude.
Jerrick’s lips kiss my hair. “Is it working?”
“Mm-hmm,” I respond, too lazy to offer any answer beyond that.
Jerrick exhales behind me, easing us backward as he rests against a wall. “Good.” He chuckles, hands still warm and holding my stomach.
I hold them as waves of relief cocoon me and my entire body now. “How do you manifest your gifts?” I ask, envious of how he can control his gifts and wishing for the chance to do that myself.
Jerrick is quiet, the moment spreading as his lips graze my hair. “Meditation,” he answers.
“Deities, I wish I could do that,” I reply, knowing I get too far gone in my own mind that meditating seems impossible.
“You can, though.”
I shake my head, not wanting to admit aloud another flaw about myself.
“Let me show you,” he says, drawing our hands forth.
I almost beg him not to, but with his pressure removed from my stomach, my blood thrums and the comfort in my body remains. I lift my head in astonishment.
“H-How are you—”
“Meditation, Frostbite,” Jerrick repeats, sitting straighter against me as he turns my palms upright. “When you feel your magic, where does it stem from?”
“Mostly in my chest or stomach.”
“Okay, good, you already know that.” He holds my waist. “Now, close your eyes and count your breaths.”
I do as he says, remembering times when counting my breaths had helped, but I never managed to do much beyond that with my abilities.
I remain focused on each breath, one right after the other.
