Chapter 7
The winter’s magic that sparked in her wings when she’d shown even an ounce of confidence was enough to make my head spin.
I’d had myself mostly convinced that there was no future for us, that my search would continue for the foreseeable future.
Now ridiculous notions of hope and desperation filled my brain.
With my face shoved into Nanok’s fur, I mumbled, “Why can’t any of this be easy?”
Nanok huffed, shaking me away, and pounded his paws on the ground.
“I know, I know, I was given an entire kingdom, eternal life, and pristine power. Why would this be handed to me on a silver platter as well, right?” Using Nanok as a leaning post, I propped my shoulder against him, his gigantic breaths lulling me into some semblance of comfort.
Nanok snorted and jostled me.
“Hey, why do you keep doing that? I thought we were pals, and I can’t even lean on you?” Adjusting my shirt, I frowned at my bear, a bit insulted by his cold shoulder routine.
Nanok bristled his fur, and with a flick of his short, puffy tail, he turned away and strolled into the woods. He picked a hell of a moment to want some “alone time”—the bastard.
“Fine,” I shouted. “I see how it is. Maybe I can find a cute little arctic fox to be my companion. One I could carry in my pocket.”
Nanok, unimpressed, huffed and disappeared out of sight.
“Great. Just what I need, some quality alone time with my erratic thoughts.” Wiggling my fingers at the ground, I conjured an icy path, gliding on it like a surfer on a wave.
It’d been so long since I’d done it that the fear of slipping and falling on my ass was an afterthought.
At least Sylvie wouldn’t be around to witness it.
Although it’d probably make her laugh, and that smile of hers?
Tensing, I dug my heels into the ice, sending it in a spiraling spray. Why was the idea of making her laugh, even at the expense of my own ego, suddenly so damn intoxicating?
“Fucking yeti’s frozen balls,” I roared, pinching the bridge of my nose from the brain freeze carving through my skull.
My magic lashed out at that, sending a pulsing wave of icy blue ringlets through the surrounding forests. It vibrated the trees, made birds fly away in alarm, and squirrels scurried to their nests.
A monstrous groan emanated from a frozen batch of rocks, a giant icy head protruding from them, followed by a torso, arms, and legs.
“Great work, Jack. Now you’re randomly summoning frost giants. Real responsible, your highness,” I mumbled.
The giant stretched his arms, his height challenging the birch trees surrounding us, and he parted one tree’s branches to peer down at me.
He had no real eyes, only two rounded areas carved into his spiky skull, the ice above them shifting as if he were raising an eyebrow.
“King Jakzair, why have you summoned me to this—place?”
My given name sent a chill down my spine. No one had called me that in centuries, but the frost giant had probably been slumbering for that long until I went ahead and woke his ass up.
“Apologies, it was, well, an accident.” The unease in my tone had me rubbing the back of my neck.
I blamed her. I entirely blamed her for my stuttering incompetence.
“An accident?” The giant repeated, mirth lacing his tone, before he let the branches snap back into place. “And why are we not in Norway? What is this place? The magic here—is enchanting.”
“They call it Arcane Cove. I couldn’t be certain, but it seems that no humans are allowed in. Sorcerer wards are protecting it, I imagine.” Panning my gaze to the skies, I focused on the clouds. They were subtle, but if one stared long enough, they’d catch the brief flashes of purple magic.
“That would explain why I feel so spry,” the giant added, a throaty, deep chuckle vibrating from his chest. He groaned as he sank toward the ground, sitting on the same pile of rocks he had emerged from.
“Again, I apologize. I know how long it’ll take for you to put yourself back into hibernation. But there are no wars to fight here.” Spiraling my hand, I created a makeshift ice throne and plopped onto it, letting one leg dangle over an armrest.
The giant curled his long, spiky fingers around what would be his knees and tilted his head upward, letting the snow coat his face. “This isn’t all so bad. It’s not often I get to experience the calm of a snowfall like this.”
Still listening to him, but ultimately distracted by my last encounter with Sylvie, I hung my necklace chain from my bottom lip, working it back and forth.
She had a personal connection with a winter beast, she was fae, had wintry wings, and made delicious as fuck cupcakes.
The latter had nothing to do with our potential universal tether, but I couldn’t deny how even the thought of eating her cupcake made my mouth water.
“I’m curious how the winter king himself accidentally calls on a frost giant,” the ice giant said, his arms still so humanly draped over his knees.
Groaning, I rested my head on my hand. “Would you believe me if I said a girl?”
The giant stared at me with those nonexistent, lifeless eyes, and somehow they remained uncomfortably judgmental. “I’ve been asleep for two centuries, and you still haven’t found your queen?”
“And thank you for reminding me.” I dragged a hand over my beard before sitting up straight. “Believe me, I’ve tried every solstice since the dawn of my frosty existence.”
“You said a girl. Does that mean you found her? Here?” The giant pointed at the ground.
Sylvie had been so bright and full of life that first day I met her in the bakery. She was so eager to please and use her magic to make me feel better without knowing anything about me. So damn nice.
“It’s complicated,” I answered through a snarl. “I’m not sure a being such as yourself who doesn’t procreate nor love anything could understand.”
The giant shifted, making tiny flecks of ice fall from his shoulders. “That’s hurtful. But true.”
“She just doesn’t seem right for me, but everything in my bones is telling me—” I’d been mid-declaration, waving my hands around for extra emphasis, and paused when I considered my audience.
I’m talking to a frost giant. This was a new low.
“I may not understand, but it seems to me like you are hiding out here.” The frost giant raised his arms.
Standing, I cut a line through my hair with my hand. “I am not. I’m—thinking.”
“Why don’t you go think in town? You think I am so na?ve because I do not possess a heart, but even I know you are not used to being around so many others that do. All you have is a polar bear, servants, and townsfolk.”
My jaw had fallen slack at his well-articulated advice. Frost giants had only ever destroyed anything in the path you set them on or ate an exorbitant number of fish in preparation for their deep sleeps. I’d never talked with one, let alone for this long. This one seemed different somehow.
“Perhaps your summoning wasn’t an accident after all, giant.” Referencing the woods, I used my magic to build an ice cave. “Feel free to stay here as long as you like.”
The frost giant turned to look at his new home and bowed to me. “I am humbled, your majesty.”
After bowing my head, I gazed through the trees where, in the distance, the Arcane Cove Plaza beckoned me.
The idea of the scorching heat raging in every establishment had me regretting it already, but the giant had a point.
If I wanted to see if this could work—really work—I had to understand why she enjoyed this place so much.
Given Finneas was about the only one I could consider a friend, I headed for his pub.
Nighttime had settled in the air and sky, making the place far more active since the last time I visited.
I immediately moved to my corner table, but two beings already occupied it.
Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I stalked for the bar, grabbing a corner stool the farthest from the hearth.
“Hey, hey, welcome back. Whiskey and ice?” Finneas smiled broadly.
He remembered my drink order? How—cozy and welcoming.
“Please, Finneas. Thanks.”
Moments later, two glass tumblers appeared in front of me, and Finneas leaned his arms on the bar top. “Any luck with Sylvie?”
This guy had a memory like a steel trap.
“Too soon to say,” I grumbled, swigging back half of the amber liquor.
Finneas tilted his head and pushed back, his gaze roaming my tattoo and hair. “It’s not normally well-mannered to ask such things, but I get the feeling you’re the type who doesn’t care about all that. What exactly are you? I can’t get a good read on you.”
Finishing the drink, I tapped the glass. “Give me another one of those and I’ll tell you.”
“Deal,” Finneas said, barking a hearty laugh.
I chomped on an ice cube as I scanned the pub. Several pairs of eyes kept glancing at me, some making it more evident than others, and salacious whispers to each other followed.
“Here you are.” Finneas returned with a glass now filled to the brim, and he somehow sparked a grin from me at that.
Raising it in a cheerful gesture, I took a sip. “I’m Jack Frost. That Jack Frost.”
Finneas’ eyes widened, and he looked about three seconds away from “fangirling.” It wouldn’t be the first time, and I winced in preparation. “No shit. I know I’m a minotaur, and I know I live in Arcane Cove, but I seriously thought you were a true fairy tale.”
“Nope. I’m as real as the Tooth Fairy.” Smirking, I guzzled more whiskey. “But my winter palace is in a different celestial plane. It takes me to different realms every solstice. This was the first time it brought me here.”
Finneas nodded before a sudden bout of excitement had him bouncing like an adolescent girl. “Was it because of Sylvie?” He gasped. “She’s a winter faerie, you’re winter itself. Oh my—it’s so perfect.” Finneas pointed a shaking finger at me. “They’d call you two Jackie.”
Eyeing him like snakes were sprouting from his head, I tightened my grip on my tumbler. “Jackie? What? Look, look, I’m still exploring things. I don’t know for sure.”
Finneas frowned, absolutely deflated. “What’s wrong? You don’t like her?”
“I don’t hate her,” I muttered, shoving my nose in the tumbler before I said much else.
A slender beige hand slipped over my shoulder, causing my attention to shift behind me. A woman with straight black hair to her hips, dark, deep-set eyes, and nine furry white fox tails sprouting from her back stood there grinning at me. “You’re new.”
“I am,” I started, my words coming out hesitant, and I gave Finneas the side eye.
“Duri,” Finneas warned. “He won’t be part of your thousand livers.”
Arching a brow, I alarmedly mouthed the word “liver” to Finneas.
Duri sulked, hunching her shoulders forward. “But it’s so much easier than hiding myself around a human for a hundred days.”
“Have you tried venturing out of the Cove lately?” Finneas leaned on the bar, positioning himself between me and the curious female.
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll venture somewhere tomorrow. But I’ll get to tell you I told you so when it doesn’t work out again.”
“I can handle that,” Finneas replied, his broad nose snorting when the woman, tails and all, turned to leave. “She’s a kumiho.”
“Can’t say I’ve heard of that one.” I stared at the door as she exited.
“Just like not everyone knows you’re real.” Finneas chuckled, his horns bouncing. “You want another?” He pointed at my glass.
“Please.” Handing it to him, I remained transfixed.
Usually, a woman’s hand on me would spark the charm and flirtation through me. But when this kumiho touched me, I grew agitated. If this hadn’t been enough of a sign, I wasn’t sure what else fate could throw in my lap. If I wanted to have a chance at this, I needed to give it one.