Page 64 of Frost and Death
“Oh, I must’ve misheard you, then.”
The richness of his voice coats my skin in goose bumps as he releases me, rising to retrieve something from his pack.
He tosses it, letting it collide with my face.
“Ow.” I awkwardly attempt to rub the tender area.
Jerrick sighs and saunters toward me.
He lowers into a squat, dropping a few small pieces of dried meat and nuts into the palm of my hand. His scent is lighter, mixed with the dampness of the cave, as I place a nut in my mouth, crunching down softly.
“We have a lot of work to do,” he grumbles.
“There is nowe,” I bite back as I swallow another helping of food.
Something dark lingers beneath his gaze, wicked enough to make my skin crawl.
“There’s been aweever since our parents decided to play with fate,” Jerrick says coldly.
My eyes widen. “Our parents?”
He heaves an annoyed sigh, pinching his brows. “Sweet Makers, stop pretending you don’t know anything.”
“What are you talking about?”
He waves me off in dismissal as he rises. “Never mind. Let’s get on the road before we tackle another problem.”
“What. Are. You. Talking. About?” I ask again, anger lacing each word.
I wait for his reply, but of course, he decides to stay quiet, packing up the woolen blanket before coming back to reach for me.
I scoot away from him, wincing in pain. I am not going to let this slide. I need to know what the fuck he is talking about.
He tries again, and I wiggle out of his touch. His face flashes with anger as I contort mine into seriousness, waiting for him to bite.
The muscles on the side of his jaw tic, and I know I’ve got him.
But he surprises me when he shrugs, turns, and goes to mount the horse without me.
I panic. “Where are you going?” He can’t leave me here!
What kind of person kidnaps another, just to leave them to die simply because they want answers?
Jerrick turns his frame to the side, lifting his brows. “Do you want to come with me?”
My jaw works, watching the sunbeam beyond the cave, illuminating the asshole like the deity he is.
The psychopath smiles viciously. It is cruel, meant for me to realize I will meet my demise if I do not go with him.
I am not the one in control here—he is.
Letum damn him, this cave, and my fucking shoulder.
“You aren’t leaving me here,” I demand, the reminder to live ringing clear as a bell through my mind.
“I’m not?” he asks knowingly, using my injury and helplessness against me.
Fucking bastard.
