Chapter 4
Jackson nodded curtly, guiding her through the shimmering icy corridors of his castle.
Despite the grandeur of the crystal walls and the delicate frost patterns that adorned every surface, a chill settled in Crystalia’s bones.
The once-familiar halls now felt like a prison, trapping her within its cold walls with a man whose intentions were veiled in icy mystery.
As they reached the guest chambers, Jackson pushed open the ornate door, revealing a room that mirrored the cold elegance of the rest of the castle. A four-poster bed draped in shimmering blue silk stood in the center, with a crackling fireplace casting dancing shadows on the walls.
“You’ll find everything you need here,” Jackson stated, his voice cool and distant. “It won’t make you happier to learn I’ve been planning this for a long time. There are clothes and toiletries that should suit you well enough. Ring if there is anything you desire and someone will attend you.”
“Wow, you’re taking this Winter King and his Lady stuff really seriously, aren’t you?”
“Because it’s true. I’ve been the King of this monarchy for centuries. At one time I believed you would be my queen, but those days are long gone. Still, while you are here you will defer to me and show me the respect I deserve, particularly in front of the servants,” he informed her coolly.
“Or?”
Jackson smiled, it was not pleasant.
“If you don’t, I’ll have to assume you enjoyed being taken over my knee like a naughty little elf and spanked.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snorted in a most unladylike manner. “How long are you planning on keeping me here?”
“Until it no longer pleases me,” he replied coolly.
Crystalia closed her eyes and sighed. Damn, this could get bad, very bad. Jackson was apparently very skilled at holding a grudge. Things could be very uncomfortable if he was determined to extract every bit of revenge.
Then as though coming to a decision she walked up to him and placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart speed up. “There are plenty of things you could do to me, Jackson, trapped as I am within these arctic walls. Surely some would be more pleasing to me.”
“Ah,” he replied with a laugh. “And so it begins. I was wondering how long it would take you to try to use your beauty and charm to manipulate me into changing my mind. I didn’t think you had the ability to surprise me any longer, but it seems I was mistaken.
” Taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm.
“This should be interesting. I’ll see you downstairs shortly.
Do you remember where the dining room is? ”
“I’m sure I can find it.”
“See that you do. I don’t want to hear of you wandering around on your own.”
“So, I am truly your prisoner?” she sassed, barely able to stop herself from stomping her foot.
“Not at all. You are an honored guest, but one I’ve learned I have to keep my eye on. You have forty-five minutes before I come and get you. I won’t like having to fetch you, nor will you if it comes to that.”
Then he was gone, closing the heavy door behind him.
Crystalia stood in the dimly lit room, her heart pounding.
She could still feel the lingering intensity of Jackson's presence, his words hanging in the air like a challenge.
Slowly, she moved towards the large window overlooking the snow-covered landscape, her breath misting the glass.
Outside, the winter wind howled, sending swirls of snow dancing in the air. A chill washed over her, both from the cold seeping through the window and the unsettling feeling of being drawn into Jackson's web once again.
As she stood there, a flurry of memories and emotions stirred within her.
Echoes of their past affection for one another and betrayal intertwined, creating a tangled web of regret and longing.
Crystalia couldn't deny the lingering attraction she still felt for him. It had always been there, hanging like a delicate thread ready to unravel at the slightest touch but she’d been afraid to pull it, fearful of beginning something powerful she had no ability to control.
Brad had been easier. He had no powers, no magical spells, and he hadn’t waited for her permission.
He’d simply overwhelmed her, unlocking passionate desires, fanning the flames of a fire Jackson had carefully constructed with precision and patience.
It was no wonder he felt cheated, and she could understand why there would be no such courtly considerations now.
Going to the huge wardrobe she opened the doors. Heavy brass hinges caught the winter light, casting reflections of warped gold on the floorboards as she swung the doors open.
Rows of garments hung in strict formation, shoulders bowed under their own weight, shades of midnight and frost packed tight as secrets. Her hands stroked the fabrics, marveling at the intricacy of the designs and the assortment of styles.
The dressing table displayed a collection of elegant trinkets and ornate containers, each one positioned at perfect angles to one another, revealing Jackson's calculated attention to detail.
Silver-backed brushes and combs gleamed beside an array of crystal vials, their contents catching the winter light in jewel-toned prisms across the frosted glass.
Arranged with military precision, cosmetics in rich, seductive colors stood in stark contrast to the pale surface beneath them, a palette chosen specifically to complement her complexion.
How could he possibly know such intimate details about her, especially after all this time?
How many times had he been in the background watching her, his sharp mind logging everything away for future use?
With a shiver, Crystalia stepped into the bathroom, her eyes widening at the opulent grandeur that surrounded her. The room was a symphony of white and silver, with intricate ice crystal patterns adorning the walls and sparkling under the soft glow of enchanted sconces.
She could feel the warmth emanating from the heated floor tiles as she crossed over to the crystal basin, marveling at the delicate snowflake designs etched into the surface.
As she turned on the tap, the water cascaded out in a crystalline stream, sending a gentle mist of frosted air swirling around her.
The mirror above the sink reflected her image back at her, the near-black locks of her hair a stark contrast against the pristine surroundings. She ran her fingers over the smooth, icy surface, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and excitement bubbling within her.
As she stood another chill passed through her recalling his earlier words.
Punish her? The idea sent a strange thrill through her, a mix of fear and something else—something she hadn't felt in a very long time.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought.
This was Jackson, after all, not some stranger.
He knew her better than anyone, or at least he used to.
What did he mean by punish? Surely, he wouldn't actually hurt her.
No, Jackson was many things, but he wasn't cruel.
Still, the idea of being at his mercy, of being subject to his whims, sent a tingle of fear down her spine.
She remembered the way he used to look at her, his eyes filled with desire and restraint. There was no restraint in his gaze now.
Trying to shake off her uneasiness she undressed and pulled on the soft wool of a silver-colored robe.
It caressed her arms, the material clinging to her curves.
She couldn't help but wonder what Jackson would think of her now, her body more mature than the lithe figure of her youth. Would he still find her desirable or would he see only the hardened exterior she had carefully crafted over the years? Glancing at the clock, she hurried to get dressed. It wouldn’t do for him to see her while she was so filled with uncertainty.
She chose a black gown that hugged her curves, wishing it was not spattered with crystals.
The sleeves were long and pointed over her hands, a timeless design inspired by royal standards of centuries gone by.
The neckline was both rounded and low, exposing the creamy skin of the curve of her breasts.
Taking a black shawl she wrapped it around her shoulders, slipped on a pair of black slippers, and hurried to the dressing table.
Dabbing on her favorite scent she brushed her hair, but left it loose and flowing. Oh how she wished she had her diamond stars. The magical power infused in them would have been of great assistance. After all, she was dealing with the most powerful elf in the Northern Hemisphere, The Winter King.
His cryptic words lingered in the air as she slowly made her way down the magnificent curved staircase.
She knew their past was fraught with pain and betrayal, but the idea of revisiting those wounds filled her with dread.
What did he truly want from her now? Was it revenge, redemption, or something else entirely?
She pondered the precarious situation she had willingly put herself in.
She never should have come here with him, and for the first time in many years, she wished for her mother’s help.
Celestial would come to her aid. Crystalia was certain of that.
She was a powerful elf, her magic unmatched in the realm, but how long would it be before she was missed?
Crystalia’s nature of being reclusive was well known, and few tried to contact her with any regularity.
Most would assume she was being her usual, difficult self, guarding her privacy and choosing that above all else.
It suddenly occurred to her that throughout the last few decades it was only Jackson who braved her wrath and descended into her home unannounced, disrupting her peaceful, if solitary existence.
The clock chimed eight just as she saw him at the bottom of the staircase.
“I was just about to come up and get you.”