Page 181 of Frost and Death
“Feeling warmer yet, Frostbite?”
The same question he asked me all those months ago, changing each time he’s voiced it. Yet instead of anger I felt from that first time, there is something else.
His thoughtfulness and efforts warm me a little, so I nod slowly.
He smiles, only to pull away and remove all warmth again.
Jerrick scans our surroundings. “Stay with the horse. I’m going to make a fire.”
He looks for dry branches as tremors greet me again. Feeling too awkward to speak, I hug myself in hopes of giving myself the same warmth Jerrick did. Trying to be helpful, I take the horse’s reins, bringing him near the campsite.
As Jerrick feeds the fire, I wrap the reins around a tree, attempting to tie it off before rubbing the horse’s neck and fiddling with his mane. His coat is shiny, and the mane hair is as soft as mine.
Deciding we should have matching hair, I plait the mane, heat building as the fire grows. I sigh when the horse brushes against me while I finger comb the mane into multiple plaits. By the time I finish the third plait, I spare a glance back at Jerrick.
He cocks his head and crosses his arms, the well-lit fire behind him and his amused face warming my entire body. He smirks and approaches.
The steed huffs beside me, and I run my fingers through its mane as Jerrick removes our packs and inspects my handiwork. He hoists the satchels over his shoulder before meeting my gaze.
“I have enough food for tonight, but tomorrow, we will need to work. It’ll be beneficial for my curse to hunt before the ball and find provisions for the rest of our trip. In our downtime, we can practice your magic,” he says.
I incline my head while Jerrick strolls back to the fire, putting the packs down and unpacking them. He stops suddenly.
“Where is your blanket?”
Confusion crosses my features, and I face him. The weather is so warm in Palaena, and I will only sweat more in the night.
“What blanket?” I ask.
Jerrick slaps the front flap of my satchel closed and pinches the center of his nose as a sigh escapes. “You’re supposed to pack a blanket because it gets cold during the night. We are at a higher altitude near the mountains.”
Dorit.
“Dorit helped me pack my bag.” I try to defend myself while also throwing her under the rug.
Maybe she forgot? Regardless, I don’t need a blanket. It’ll be fine.
Jerrick tosses my sack aside, pulling his own thin blue blanket, woven in yarn instead of a luxurious fabric. “You’ll have to sleep next to me.” He fluffs the blanket out, layering it on top of a section he swept down to have even leveling for his sleeping space.
The blanket is small, barely big enough for him to sit on and wrap himself in. Looking at it, I gulp down a nervous tremor at the implication of sharing.
My blood races to my cheeks, and I swirl back to the horse, fiddling with the plaits I made.
Even as I crave his touch with the idea of sharing a close space again, my mind thankfully keeps my heart in check and prevents me from voicing my lustful thoughts—for the most part.
“It’s warm, and we have a fire. I am sure I will be plenty fine without a blanket,” I say to reassure myself.
Jerrick adjusts the branches in the fire. “As you wish, Frostbite.” He winks.
That damn sultry voice of his.
If I could slap myself now, I would. But it would only raise questions I donotwant to answer.
Jerrick sets out some food, and I decide I should not make anything more awkward than it needs to be. I approach the fire and stretch out my hands, smelling the burnt leaves. The embers flare and drift upward, reaching the limits of the night sky before disintegrating. The faintest of stars glint as I observe the pale moon compared to the little flickers of light from the fire.
I close my eyes to the serene peace surrounding me. The wind brushes through the forest, the softest of insects chirping, and I open my eyes at the hoot of an owl.
“You probably don’t remember much from our last expedition through the woods,” Jerrick says, offering me a napkin of food.
