Chapter 3
This place was about as peculiar as it was comforting.
I’d been to thousands of realms through countless time periods and had never seen as many different mythical beings and species communing in the same space.
Hidden within my grey cloak, I spent several hours studying Arcane Cove’s citizens.
An orc passed at one point, eyeing me suspiciously but eventually paying no mind before wandering into a café called The Minty Boar.
There were pixies, gargoyles, demons, and maenads.
They’d be hard to spot without a keen sense, but I could smell a shifter’s scent on several human-like beings that passed.
What they could shift into, however, I couldn’t surmise from scent alone.
More beings that looked human at first glance continued to stroll by, and though I could sense the magic thrumming in their veins, some I couldn’t tell what they were.
There’d been a male and female I noted with pointed ears, but they were larger and more prominent than my own—elves and not fae.
Not another fae at all? It seemed not only odd but unnerving.
At any rate, I’d seen enough to know there was no reason for me to hide, and the attire here appeared average, so I didn’t need to stand on ceremony in royal garments.
Flicking the cloak off and making it disappear in a shimmering snow flurry, I stood in a pair of dark jeans, boots, and a blue V-neck tee.
Rubbing the snowflake charm hanging on a chain around my neck, I paused when a discomforting pang radiated through my skull.
I’d rarely experienced pain, but it was more irritating than it was hurtful. Rubbing the back of my head, I turned the other way, and the feeling subsided.
“Hey there,” a female voice said from nearby.
Shaking the disorientation from my brain, I swiveled to face her.
She was half my height with ringlets of chestnut hair and two small, tan antlers sticking out from her forehead.
“Hey,” I answered, scanning her, more for curiosity than perusal.
I’d known maenads existed but had never met one.
They were usually glued to the hip of the Greek god of wine.
“I don’t recognize you. Are you new here?” The female folded her arms, her perky upturned nose discreetly smelling the air between us.
“Just got into town today, actually.” I slipped my hands in my pockets, habitually making my muscles tighten—a reflex from the instinct to display myself in front of a potential mate. Though the maenad was attractive, I didn’t get any tell-tale signs she was it.
“Oh, yeah? What brings you here?” The female scratched one antler, her hips swiveling as she took more of me in, paying special attention to my beard and wintry full-sleeve tattoo on my right arm.
Breathing in the crisp, clean air, I shrugged. “A change of scenery.”
“Well, I’m Aella.” She extended her hand.
Taking it, but not shaking, I bent forward to place a chaste kiss on her knuckles. She all but melted into an ironic puddle at my feet. “Jack.”
“Jack?” Aella snorted and curled her hand under her chin.
Chuckling, I made ice crystallize in my eyes, my gaze sparkling. “Something wrong with the name Jack?”
“Not at all. It’s only been my experience that people use a name like that to hide their real name.”
Leaning forward again, I blew a light, chilling breath, wafting it against Aella’s cheek and making her gasp. “Why does it have to be a disguise? Maybe it’s short for something.”
The maenad stood with her gloved palm pressed to her face, her mouth still formed in a gasp. “What is it short for?”
It was rare, if ever, I revealed my actual name to anyone, finding it best for the world to know me as they always have, simply—Jack Frost.
A man with long hair and curved black horns cupped his tanned hands over his mouth and shouted, “Aella, we’re going to be late, let’s go.”
“I believe you’re being summoned.” I jutted my head at who I assumed was the awaiting wine god.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll see you around the Cove?”
“Maybe.”
Not likely. My time was limited, and she wasn’t the female I needed to spend time with if I could only find her because she was here.
Once Aella trotted away, I returned to the spot where I’d experienced the skull tremors.
They happened again, and, pushing through the discomfort, I kept moving forward, the pangs morphing into an icy-hot current swirling beneath my skin.
It pulled at my magic, turning my forearms and hands to ice, snowflakes fluttering my knuckles.
It yanked and tethered me until it withered away, leaving me standing in front of a building.
Squinting at the sign displaying the phrase Muffin Compares to You, I got the gut feeling I wasn’t going to like this place. Muffins meant food. It meant ovens to make them. And what were ovens? Hot. I hated the heat.
All but pressing my nose to one of two large pane windows giving a view of the inside, I eyed shelves of packaged goods, a cupcake clock hanging on the wall, and display cases filled to the brim with all varieties of baked treats and breads.
Groaning, I balled my hands into fists against the glass, lightly beating my forehead against it.
This couldn’t be happening.
A woman appeared at the counter, looking flustered.
Her hair was snowy white, fading to the tips, turning a pale blue.
She smoothed her hands down her apron, glancing several times at her back like she’d expected to find something there.
When she adjusted her hair, my celestial heart just about stopped beating for a solid five seconds.
It was fast, it was subtle, but I’d caught sight of them—pointed ears. Fae pointed ears.
This was her. This was my mate.
But no, no, this couldn’t be right.
Growling, I shimmied out of sight so she wouldn’t see me, continuing to watch her.
She took several deep breaths and fiddled with her phone as the song “Build Me Up Buttercup” played through the shop.
She grabbed a duster and waltzed around the shop, dusting shelves and displays and singing along.
Pressing my ear to the window, I expected her to be off-key and sound like a screeching cat, but much to my surprise, she sounded—angelic.
I rubbed my temple and forced my gaze back to her, squinting through the frosted glass, attempting to get a better look at her face.
She circled closer, and I clung to the building’s brick at the side of the window, not caring that I probably looked like a kid staring at a toy window display to anyone passing by.
I needed answers. Her face finally flashed in my direction, and the ice in my veins momentarily softened—crystalline specks glittered on her cheeks, her smile resplendent, and those radiant violet eyes bound my soul.
Fuck.
Closing my eyes, I pushed away from the window and held my face in my hands. I was dreaming. I must’ve still been in my castle in some form of deep slumber and dreaming about the solstice and searching for my mate. That was the only explanation.
Risking opening one eye, I spied the fae female still waltzing around her shop and dusting like a woodland princess interacting with forest animals.
I was not dreaming.
I had to figure this out.
And so, taking a deep breath, preparing myself for the warmth that was sure to slap me in the face like a backdraft the moment I opened the door, I walked inside, making the bell hanging above the threshold chime.