Page 120 of A Sword of Ice
Eyes turned to them, and she watched the fire from the hearth dance against the color of their irises before Julius started spinning her in his arms. Her stomach pressed up tightly against the muscle of his shoulder when he flipped and flung her over it. The air left her in a single breath at the quickness with which he managed that. Then she was laughing again as his palm slapped against her ass.
“Put me down, brute.” Her fist walloped against his back, but he didn’t even wince. She was a bit offended by that, so she struck harder. “Brute!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk…”
Julius stopped spinning, and when he did, Iona’s eyes caught on Clay standing behind her mate. Julius turned, pulling her gaze away from the Fae, but a moment later he was sliding her down his body, and she was turning to face him again.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that’s no way to treat a lady?” There was a grin on his face, the kind that made the little indent on his chin just that much more prominent. He looked freshly showered, his cheeks heated a soft red with what Iona could only assume was Fae wine. His light brown hair was curling, wet strands stuck against his forehead and cheeks in a way that made him look almost boyish and endearing. On his arm, a female Unseelie Fae clung.
Iona’s eyes slid over her for a second. Her skin was bright pink and flushed a deep purple, her hair long, orange, and braided. She looked like a field of flowers, or a sunset across a horizon.
Julius snickered. “Don’t let his big talk fool you into thinking he’s any better at treating a woman than I am,” he told the female on his best friend’s arm. “He’s trying to make himself look good by making me look bad.”
Clay scoffed in mock objection while Iona snorted.
“Trust me, I have ‘how to treat a woman’ down to an art form.” He pulled the female close, but his hand never strayed anywhere but her side. If anything, his touch was respectful, not roving or demanding or sexual.
“You keep telling yourself that, when you only last three thrusts.”
“Oookay, I do not need to hear this. That is disgusting.” Iona elbowed Julius’ side, and he busted out laughing at the look of abject horror on the Unseelie woman’s face.
She started to slowly pull herself from Clay’s hold, and he let her go reluctantly, but still chased her as she ran away, glaring at Julius over his shoulder a second before calling out all the reasons Julius was a liar.
Iona’s own laughter bubbled out until tears were slipping from her eyes, and she had to hold herself up with her palms against her thighs, wheezing breaths rolling into quiet sobs that she couldn’t stop.
All the elation she’d felt only moments before suddenly disappeared entirely. Sorrow took its place, wriggling its way around her chest like happiness had never really lived there at all, like it had burned away back at that flaming camp.
She pushed herself up, straightening and smoothing down her shirt.
Fingertips wrapped around her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes.”
The fluttering of wings had her looking up to see a swarm of pixie-like bugs hovering above her head. She hadn’t noticed them before, the way they floated, their tiny gazes intent with mischievous curiosity. When she caught their expressions, they began chattering animatedly in a language she didn’t understand.
She frowned at them and looked back at Julius. “Let’s go outside.”
He allowed her to take his hand and guide him out of the castle and to the knee-deep snow of the mountains.
The wind was sharp and painful and sobering, but Julius didn’t complain. She caught sight of her familiar running through the snow, biting at the swirling snowflakes.
“Let’s go over here.” She led him far enough away from the castle where there wouldn’t be prying eyes. Eyes that would likely report everything back to the king. She didn’t know why she didn’t particularly trust that monarch when she trusted his son.
She believed there was a lot you could discern about a person by looking into their eyes. It was in the eyes where you could find someone’s story. It lived in a single, quick glance. Enough to know if someone was trustworthy or not.
She’d seen a lot of dead eyes set on living corpses during her life, almost as much as she’d seen true malice.
King Ashera was something else entirely.
“You going to bury my body in the snow?” Julius inquired, his voice holding only a tad bit of wariness.
“If I brought you out to kill you, trust me, you’d know.” She dropped his hand and raised her own. The wind whipped against her clothes as her own magic surged through her system and zapped out. Blocks of ice began forming, stacking upon each other until they coalesced into an igloo with a doorway big enough to fit Julius’ massive form.
“Wow,” Julius exclaimed, taking in the surface. It sparkled like crystals from a royal’s treasure chest. Glittering white and blue like it was made of diamonds.
She offered him a small smile. “I used to make these all the time on the beach when I was little. We used to play in them before the heat of the sun melted them away.” The memories brought a sharp moment of pain against her chest that she wanted to shove away but couldn’t. It enveloped her until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.
Iona pushed her way inside the igloo, and once Julius was inside as well, her magic swallowed up the empty entryway, covering it with ice to ensure their privacy.
