10. Jack
Chapter ten
Jack
T he library’s silence weighs heavy, and Violet’s earlier words about Alana echo in my mind. I close the tome before me with a decisive thud.
“Perhaps we should take a break from the research.” The words in the air between us before I fully consider them. What am I doing? “A change of scenery might help us think more clearly.”
Violet’s head snaps up, her soft green eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You want to take a break? You?”
“Is that so difficult to believe?”
“Considering you’ve been treating these books like they hold the secrets to the universe? Yes.”
I stand, adjusting my jacket. “The kingdom holds more than just this library. There are places...” Places I’ve wanted to show you. I cut off that thought quickly. “Places that might spark different ideas about the warming.”
“Fine.” She stretches, and I force my gaze away from the sliver of skin exposed at her waist. “Lead the way, Your Frostiness.”
We walk through the crystalline corridors, and I guide her toward the eastern gates. The guards bow as we pass, their armor glinting in the light of the twin moons.
“Holy shit.” Violet stops dead in her tracks as we enter the Winter Gardens, the dress Cora selected swirling around her feet.
Ice flowers bloom in impossible formations, their petals catching and refracting moonlight in rainbow patterns across the snow.
A group of frost pixies dart between the crystal blooms, leaving trails of sparkling dust in their wake.
The sight of her there—draped in winter blues and whites, fur trim framing her shoulders like fresh snow—makes my chest ache.
She looks like she stepped out of an ancient painting of our realm's golden age, when winter Ladies still ruled beside their Lords. I clench my fist, frost coating my knuckles. Such thoughts are a luxury I cannot afford, no matter how the silver accents of her gown mirror the starlight above.
"The gardens have existed since the beginning of the realm." Since before I was cursed with this crown. "The pixies tend to them."
One particularly bold pixie zooms up to Violet’s face, its tiny features scrunched in curiosity. To my surprise, Violet doesn’t flinch. She laughs instead, the sound warming something deep in my chest that I thought long frozen.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, watching as the pixie rejoins its companions.
I lead her deeper into the gardens, past the singing ice fountains where water flows upward in defiance of gravity, frozen in mid-arc. An aurora serpent glides overhead, its ethereal body rippling with colors that paint the snow beneath us.
“Jack, this is...” Violet’s voice trails off as she spins slowly, taking in the otherworldly beauty of my realm. For a moment, I see it through her eyes—not as the prison it’s become, but as the magical place it truly is.
“There’s more,” I find myself saying. I should stop this. Distance is safer. But I can’t seem to halt the words. “Would you like to see the Crystal Falls?”
Her eyes light up at my offer, and something warm shifts in my chest. This is dangerous. Yet I can’t bring myself to retract the invitation.
“Lead on, Lord Frost.” She gestures ahead with an exaggerated bow, but her smile holds genuine warmth.
“The Crystal Falls lie beyond the castle grounds,” I say, extending my hand. “We’ll need to travel there directly.”
Violet eyes my outstretched palm suspiciously. “What, like teleporting?”
“Something like that.” I keep my voice neutral, though her skepticism amuses me. “It won’t feel like our attempt to cross realms. This is a simple displacement—like stepping through a doorway.”
She stares at my hand for a long moment before placing her warm palm against mine. The contact sends an unwelcome spark through my entire body.
“Just don’t let go,” I say as I draw her closer. The world blurs into crystalline fragments around us, reforming almost instantly. We materialize at the base of the Crystal Falls, and Violet staggers, her free hand clutching my jacket.
“Son of a bitch,” she breathes, steadying herself. Then she catches sight of the falls, and her grip on my jacket tightens. “Oh, my god.”
I release her hand, ignoring how empty my palm feels without her warmth. We’re far beyond the castle’s protective barriers now, but I tell myself the unease I feel is merely from the transportation .
The Crystal Falls cascade down from impossibly high cliffs, the water freezing mid-fall into intricate patterns before thawing again at the bottom. Rainbow lights dance through the ice formations, creating an ever-changing display.
But it’s not the falls that draw my attention. It’s the way Violet’s eyes track the movement of the water, her nurse’s mind clearly at work.
“The water here... it’s different.” She steps closer to the pool at the base. “The way it moves, it’s almost like—“
“Blood flow?”
She whirls to face me, surprise evident in her features. “You know about circulatory systems?”
I wave my hand, and a section of the falling water freezes into an intricate replica of human vasculature. “I’ve studied mortal anatomy extensively. It helps me understand how cold affects your kind.”
“This is incredible.” She moves around the ice formation, her fingers hovering just above the surface. “The branching patterns, the way the smaller vessels divide... it’s perfect.”
Stop. Step back. Don’t—
“I have something for you.” The words escape before I can catch them. I reach into my jacket and withdraw a leather-bound journal, its cover embossed with intertwining patterns of blood vessels and snowflakes. “I noticed you sketching anatomical diagrams in the margins of your research notes.”
Violet takes the journal with trembling hands. When she opens it, her breath catches. Each page contains detailed illustrations of human anatomy rendered in frost, the diagrams shifting and flowing like living things .
“You can add your own observations. The frost will respond to your touch.” Why am I giving her this? Why am I letting her closer?
Her fingers trace one pattern, and the frost swirls beneath her touch, reforming into a new configuration. A smile breaks across her face, bright enough to rival the auroras above us.
“Thank you,” she whispers, clutching the journal to her chest. “This is... no one’s ever understood this part of me before.”
The warmth in my chest threatens to crack the ice I’ve carefully maintained for centuries. I take a step back, but I can’t look away from the joy in her eyes, which pierces straight through my defenses. Her fingers continue tracing the frost patterns, and instead I find myself stepping closer, drawn by her wonder. The scent of her—vanilla and something uniquely her —fills my senses.
“The anatomical patterns,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. “They’re based on ancient texts from when magic and medicine were one discipline.”
Violet looks up, and I realize how close we are. Her breath catches, forming a small cloud in the cold air between us. The moonlight catches in her eyes, turning them to liquid emeralds.
Step back. Turn away. Remember the prophecy.
But I don’t move. Neither does she.
“Jack...” Her voice is barely a whisper. My name on her lips like that ignites something fierce inside me, a sensation I haven’t felt in centuries.
I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Frost crystals form where my fingers graze her skin, then melt instantly from her warmth. She leans into my touch, ever so slightly.
This is madness. She’ll destroy everything.
Yet I find myself leaning down, drawn to her like a compass finding true north. Her eyes flutter closed.
“Fuck.” Violet jerks back suddenly, clutching the journal tighter. “Fuckity, fuck, fuck .”
The moment shatters. I straighten, forcing my expression neutral despite the riot of emotions beneath my skin.
“Eloquent as always.”
“Shut up.” She runs a hand through her hair, pacing. “I can’t... Alana’s out there somewhere in that blizzard you mentioned. My whole town’s in chaos, and I’m here almost kissing the damn Winter King like some fucking fairy-tale princess.”
The mention of her friend sobers me instantly. “The storm is unnatural.”
“No shit.” She whirls to face me. “You said you didn’t cause it. So who did?”
“That’s what concerns me.” I gesture to a nearby bench, carved from pure ice. “There are very few beings with power over winter, and none should be able to affect your realm so directly.”
Violet sits, her leg bouncing with nervous energy. “Could it be connected to the warming here?”
“Perhaps.” I remain standing, needing the distance. “Both events are unprecedented.”
“I need to get back.” She looks up at me, determination replacing the earlier vulnerability. “Even temporarily. Just long enough to make sure Alana’s safe.”
“It’s not that simple— ”
“Make it simple.” The fire in her eyes could melt glaciers. “You got there. Figure out how to take me with you.”
“And risk killing you in the process?” The ice beneath my feet crackles with my rising anger. “The last attempt nearly tore you apart.”
“Then we keep looking.” She stands, squaring her shoulders. “There has to be something in those books. Some way to—”
Her voice catches, and I see the exhaustion she’s been hiding beneath her stubborn facade. Dark circles rim her eyes, and the worry for her friend weighs heavily on her shoulders. She’s been pushing herself too hard, refusing to acknowledge her own limits.
“We’ll return to the library,” I concede, knowing she won’t back down. The determination in her eyes reminds me why she’s lasted this long in my realm. “But first, you need rest. Your body can’t sustain this pace forever.”
“I’m fine,” she insists, but her arms wrap around herself, betraying her discomfort. “I’m getting cold though. Let’s walk. Show me more. The movement will warm me up, and I need time to think.”