12. Violet
Chapter twelve
Violet
S team rises from my tea as I stare out the library window. The twin moons hang low in the morning sky, casting an eerie glow over the snow-covered landscape.
“Finally found you. Did you sleep at all?” Cora sets a plate of pastries beside me.
“Not really.” I pick at a flaky croissant. “Keep thinking about Alana. She must be worried sick.”
“Your friend from home?” Cora slides into the chair across from me. “Tell me about her.”
“She’s... everything I’m not. Organized, level-headed, probably handling that blizzard like a champ while making sure everyone’s got blankets and hot chocolate.” My throat tightens. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s the only real family I have left. ”
“You miss her.”
“Yeah.” I blink back tears. “And now Jack says there’s this weird storm, and I can’t even check if she’s okay.”
Cora reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “His Majesty will figure something out.”
The library doors open, and Jack strides in, looking more disheveled than usual. His hair falls loose around his shoulders instead of its usual neat tie.
“Speaking of His Frostiness...” I raise an eyebrow at Cora.
“Leave us.” Jack’s command is soft but firm.
Cora squeezes my hand once more before departing. Jack takes her vacant seat, his eyes fixed on the moons outside.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” Jack murmurs.
“Which part? The drinking or the dangerous bits?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light despite the sudden intensity in his eyes.
His lips twitch in a ghost of a smile. “About understanding,” he says, holding my gaze with an almost tangible force. “You lost your mother young?”
Where is he going with this? I take a deep breath, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I was twelve. Cancer’s a bitch.”
“My sister...” Jack’s voice falters, and I watch as tension ripples across his shoulders, turning them into a landscape of frozen hills beneath his shirt. “She almost died in that winter. Before I made my bargain.”
“Oh.” A wave of empathy washes over me, mingling with the ever-present undercurrent of attraction that seems to hum in the space where our bodies are mere inches apart. “Is that why you did it? Made the deal?”
“Partially,” he admits, his fingers tracing patterns of frost on the table’s surface, the intricate designs coming to life under his touch. “I wanted to save her and also save others. Though sometimes I wonder if I truly saved anyone, or if I just prolonged their suffering.”
I reach across the table, my hand brushing against the back of his.
“Hey,” I say softly, entwining my fingers with his, ignoring the icy spark that dances between us, a sensation that’s both startling and arousing. “You gave them a chance. That’s more than most people would do.”
His fingers tense beneath mine, but he doesn’t pull away. The contact sends electric sparks through my palm, making my heart race.
“What about your other family?” I ask, my voice gentle. “You mentioned a sister. Were there others?”
Jack’s jaw tightens. His silver eyes darken like storm clouds. “She lived. So did they. That’s what matters.”
“But you never saw her again after...” I trail off, not wanting to say the word ‘sacrifice.’
“No.” The single word carries the weight of centuries of loss.
“And your father?” The temperature around us plummets several degrees. Jack yanks his hand away, frost crackling across the table’s surface.
“We’re done discussing this,” he says, each word sharp as an icicle.
I press my lips together, fighting the urge to push harder. His reaction tells me everything I need to know about his relationship with dear old dad. Some wounds are best left frozen over.
“Okay,” I say softly, watching the frost slowly recede. “I get it. Family’s complicated.”
His eyes lift to meet mine, and for a moment, the barriers he’s so meticulously constructed seem to waver. I can see the vulnerability he tries so hard to hide, the raw pain that’s as much a part of him as the frost that clings to his skin.
“Violet,” he whispers, my name sounding like a plea on his lips.
I squeeze his hand, the warmth of my touch melting the frost beneath our joined fingers.
“You’re not alone in this, Jack. Not anymore.”
My heart’s pounding like a drum in my chest, and I can feel the heat rising between us. I know he feels it too—the spark that’s been building ever since we met.
It’s like we’re connected by some invisible thread, pulling us closer and closer together. I lick my lips, a silent invitation, and his eyes widen as he realizes what I’m offering. His breath catches, and I see the tension in his body, the struggle between his duty and his desire.
Then, finally, he gives in. Jack leans toward me, his eyes never leaving mine, and I rise to meet him. Our lips crash together in a kiss that takes my breath away. It’s a clash of opposites—his cold lips and my fiery passion.
I feel the frost on his skin, a pleasant contrast to the heat of our kiss. My fingers tangle in his white hair, pulling him closer as his lips move urgently against mine. It’s like we can’t get enough of each other, like we’re trying to consume each other .
I can taste the sweetness of our connection, a strange and beautiful mix of fire and ice.
I break away first, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Well fuck, if I’d known you could kiss like that, I might have pushed your buttons sooner.”
His expression shifts between annoyance and amusement, thumb brushing over my knuckles, sending warmth through my chest despite his cold touch. “You’re very... direct.”
“You mean I don’t sugarcoat shit?”
A genuine smile tugs at his lips. “That too.”
“Life’s too short for mind games. Well, maybe not your life, Mr. Immortal Winter King, but you get my point.”
“I do.” His smile fades. “Which is why I should tell you—”
The library doors burst open, and Gabriel sweeps in.
Gabriel’s pristine white suit practically glows in the dim library light. “Your Majesty, there’s an urgent matter requiring your attention.”
Jack’s hand withdraws from mine, leaving my skin tingling. “Not now.”
“I’m afraid it can’t wait.” Gabriel’s usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced by something more tense. “The eastern border—”
“Fine.” Jack rises, his chair scraping against the floor. His jaw tightens as he looks at me. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”
Like hell we will. “No, you don’t get to do that.” I stand, planting my hands on the table. “You were about to tell me something important.”
“Violet— ”
“Don’t Violet me. Every time we get close to actually talking about whatever this is between us, you run away.”
Ice crystals form where his fingers grip the back of the chair. “I’m not running.”
“Really? Because from where I’m standing, that’s exactly what you’re doing.” I wave toward Gabriel. “Using every interruption as an excuse to avoid facing the fact that maybe you’re wrong about this whole mate thing being destructive.”
The temperature plummets. Gabriel takes a step back, but I hold my ground.
Jack’s eyes flash that dangerous arctic blue. “You know nothing about what this bond could do.”
“Because you won’t tell me! All I know is that every time you let your guard down for two seconds, the world doesn’t end. The kingdom doesn’t collapse.” I gesture between us. “Hell, when you touched my hand just now, the only thing that happened was—”
I stop, realizing what I’d felt. That warmth. That spark of... something.
Jack’s expression softens, just barely. “Was what?”
“It felt right,” I whisper. “Like pieces clicking into place.”
The ice on his chair melts, water dripping onto the floor. He stares at the puddle, conflict written across his features.
“Your Majesty...” Gabriel’s voice is gentle. “Perhaps Miss Jones has a point. The prophecy speaks of destruction, yes, but prophecies are often—”
“Enough.” Jack’s command lacks its usual frost. He runs a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. “I need to handle the border situation. ”
But he doesn’t move. Instead, his gaze finds mine again, and there’s something different in it. Something warmer. Like he’s seeing me—really seeing me—for the first time.
“You really felt it? That connection?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “Did you?”
He nods once, sharp and quick, as if admitting it physically pains him.
Gabriel clears his throat. “The border...”
“Yes, yes.” Jack straightens, but his eyes linger on me. “We’re not finished here.”
For once, I actually believe him.