11. Jax
11
JAX
I ’ve tried my best to stay away despite the way my chest aches with the constant thrum of my connection to the beautiful mortal asleep on the other side of the windowsill. Lines mark the glass, and I blow on it, slips of white and silver curling around the letters.
?ereh uoy reA
?xaJ
My brow wrinkles in frustration. This is no language I’ve learned in my harbinger studies.
Then I notice the backward squiggles. Question marks.
Duh.
I chuckle to myself before gliding into her room and spinning around to read the words:
Are you here?
Jax?
She’s trying to talk to me . Hope rumbles through my chest. Does she crave my contact as much as I’ve craved hers?
Doubtful.
The only thing that could make this moment better is if I’d been here when she’d done it. When she didn’t try to contact me, I kept my distance, watching her from afar. Last night, though, when she came out onto the balcony, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to be near her. Our moonlit dance was the only thing I could give her—too scared to frighten her again until I was certain she wanted me around.
Maybe I would have seen her write this, but I was summoned to help some Frosts brew a big blizzard at the tip of Burlington. I hated having to leave her, especially after holding her beneath the stars, but I still can’t risk getting banished. Not when I’m already skirting the cardinal rule.
Fuck, I’ve got it bad.
The glass gently squeaks as I write into the frost.
YES, TEMPEST.
I admire my handiwork, then notice her journal sitting open, deep grooves etched on the blank page facing me. I wave my hand, flipping to the prior entry. A dozen questions are spread across the lines, curves of black and white sketches surrounding her words.
Is your name really Jax Frost?
I chuckle to myself. She wants to know about me. That’s encouraging. Maybe a way to each other isn’t as far out of reach as everyone keeps telling me?
Taking a deep inhale, I exhale a thin layer of frost on the windowpanes. My fingertip scratches into the perfectly pristine layer, answering each question. That is, until I come to the last one:
Have we met before?
My nail hovers over the ice-coated glass. Something snakes through the back of my mind, slithering and coiling around whatever it is I can’t see. No matter how much I want to reach in and grab what’s hidden, I can’t.
That’s…odd.
Before I get frustrated, I breeze through the other pages, staring down at various renderings of my eyes, my wolf. Me. I’m spread throughout her journal, reflections that hold a truth I don’t understand.
But I want to—and more than that, I want her .
Jolie shudders, and I spin away from her desk to face her. The comforter crests and falls with each breath. So peaceful. I could watch her for hours. For days.
Let’s face it, I have.
I sidle up next to her, and she squirms, tugging the blanket tighter as white ghosts from between her lips. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. I reach out and brush back some of the hair strewn in her face. Her nose wriggles and her body shivers.
Adorable .
I’ll spend the next week along the northern tip of the East Coast, unfurling flakes and dripping icicles across four states. Slowing the meltdown for spring. I hope winter isn’t cut short. Not this year, if I have any say in the matter. Which I don’t, but a harbinger can dream. One day I will be a Lead Albidus, like my fathers, and have some sway when it comes to these things. It’s all I’ve wanted since I graduated from the harbinger’s academy over twenty seasons after my arrival, and each winter I serve the mortal world brings me closer to that milestone. Of course, I’m a bit distracted now by the only thing that could eclipse my duty to the Frosts.
Jolie.
I need to do something about this desperation for her that constantly overtakes me. Each day is harder for me than the last. While no one has ever been bonded to a mortal, there has to be more to it. Fate wouldn’t have tied me to a mate only to have me pine over them for an eternity. Would she? The answer to that is something I must know.
And now I’m angry I missed this. She’s been thinking about me. That’s everything.
My cheeks warm as I look up at the window covered in answers, all written from the inside.
She’ll know for certain I was here.
That thought fills me with pride, ice rushing through my veins to every part of me. Jolie squirms again, and I swallow down the way my body is eager for her. To caress each soft curve, thick strand of hair, raised pink scar. How I wish I could. In a way, I’m not much more than a ghost. The apparition she believes me to be, haunting the one I wish would see me most.
My very own form of unfinished business.
I peel myself from the bed, going against every part of me that wishes to soak up this closeness, one that she’d shudder away from if she were awake. At least until I can make her understand.
Hopefully, my responses will help her begin to and that small wintry mix up north will be enough for me to take a few days off without sacrificing winter’s reign. The last thing I need is for those sneaky spring Blooms to think that the East Coast is ready for them.
It’s not.
I’m not.
I need more time with her, but first, I need answers of my own. When she’s ready to listen, I want to know what to say. I truly didn’t want to interfere, didn’t want to scare my mate after that broken message board fiasco, but I can’t give up now. I refuse to. Not when she’s so close to finding me.
Once I’m outside again, I press the heel of my palm over my heart and close my eyes, envisioning my destination like I’ve done a hundred times before. I normally don’t make any trips back to Nivea midseason, but I can’t wait until winter’s end. I need to figure out how to reach Jolie without punishment or come to terms with denying myself. Solstice draws closer with each passing day, and I already can’t get her out of my head. Something tells me that is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to our bond and this desperate call to claim her.
Love her.
I don’t know how it’s possible to have someone make you feel alive when you haven’t even spoken a word to them, but that’s what she does.
She’s become my heartbeat. The only one I have now. She pulses with a certainty that is etched into my skin and sinks deep into my bones. If she were to claim me as hers, as I long to claim her as mine, the world itself would come to life, full of color and possibility.
With each frantic step down the long, winding staircase that leads toward our city, my resolve solidifies. When I reach the landing, ice coating the ground in all directions, I summon my skates, gliding over the whirls of tracks spinning through Nivea’s frozen streets.
“What are you doing here?” Aneira asks, popping into view and giving me a quick glance up and down. “You’re not due back for another…” her periwinkle eyes dart up to the dial beaming down from the icy tower in the center of town, ticking off the timeframe on her fingers before lifting a hand in front of my face, “four weeks, if Fate’s little pet isn’t so lazy this year.”
I ignore the thick divot carved into the icy timer signifying solstice and the shift change. The time when I’m meant to be claiming my mate, filling her full of pleasure, of me, before we go into blissful hibernation together.
“Well?” Aneira crosses her arms, brows lifted.
Her question has already slipped my mind.
“What are you doing here, Jax?”
Oh, that’s what it was.
“I think you know why I’m here, Ani.”
Aneira is one of the hardest working Frosts. She only works every other winter with me, though. A few spots in the world need tending to on the off seasons and she volunteered for it. Now she’s taking this winter off to replenish her powers. If she didn’t need the rest, she wouldn’t. Her frost marks curl around her neck, swirling partially down one arm. The other shoulder, the one that’s bare, is covered by thick waves of platinum hair. She always styles it that way, and I can’t help but wonder if that will change once her marks begin to feather over there.
I’m looking forward to spending my next winter with her in the mortal world. I always enjoy her company, and she’s so set to prove herself that I never have to pull her weight like I do with some of the others.
Speaking of… Crispin, her mate and one of the laziest Frosts of the family, makes his way over, powerful legs pushing against the ice, hips twisting sharply to break. Tiny flecks of frost kick up from his blades. He loops his arms around Aneira, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
He’s incredibly handsome and, therefore, most of the unmated Frosts have happily picked up his slack in prior seasons, influenced by his charm. I’d be lying if I didn’t say he’d won me over a time or two. But now that he and Aneira have claimed each other, I doubt he’ll be getting the same assistance. Not that it really matters, Aneira is happy to help her mate.
Mate.
A divine blessing and my greatest curse all wrapped up in one four-letter word.
I groan internally thinking about spending my next winter with them, watching them together while my chest continues to fissure over a mortal I can’t be with.
“I know you’re struggling without your mate being here, but you know the rules,” Aneira says before biting her lip. “She’s not meant to be with you. Not yet.”
Not meant to be with you.
How is that possible? The very nature of mates is meant to be . Ordained by Fate’s very capable hand.
“Then why do I have this mark? Why do I feel like I’m being torn from the inside every minute I’m away from her?” My voice shakes the icicles hanging around the awnings. A storm simmers beneath my skin, becoming more frantic the farther I am from her. “Everything is telling me that I need to stay close. That I need this bond like I need the breeze.”
Crispin gives me a pitying look and places his hand on my shoulder. “I know it must be difficult.”
“Do you?” I swat his hand away and skate back a few paces. “Because your mate is always within reach,” I say, tracing over my mark. “There’s nothing preventing her from taking you in her arms, from talking to you. Jolie won’t even listen to me when I try… Not without—”
I think back to the worried furrow of her brow. The way her fingers shook as she contacted her therapist, begging to be seen.
“What did you do, Jax?” Aneira asks, gliding toward me, but I skate out of reach, lifting my hands up to warn her and her mate to keep their distance.
“Nothing. Doesn’t matter,” I mutter. She just thought she was crazy.
“Maybe it would be better to sit out this assignment? I can swap in and cover the rest of winter for you and you can go into early hibernation. Get some extra rest before you’re due for another season.”
“No.” Ice climbs my fists and lower arms, and Aneira’s eyes slide straight to it. Crispin takes her hand.
I’m glad they have each other, but this fucking hurts.
After some steadying breaths, the white retreats, and I wiggle my fingers. “Never had that happen before.”
“This isn’t good for you, Jax.” Her voice is quiet.
“It’s not,” I admit. “But neither is being home without her. I could still sense her before I even arrived here.” I wave at the icy expanse around us, the collection of towering skyscrapers aglow with white light peering out from each small window. “I know you’re just trying to help, Ani, but…don’t.”
“So you just want to be miserable, brother?” Crispin asks, tilting his head. He may be a lazy motherfucker, but I hate how perceptive he is.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I should give up. Wait. Figure out how to survive solstice alone.
Maybe that’s what I’ll have to do, but… “I’d rather be miserable and have a shot than give up on everything.”
Aneira swallows any retort and says softly, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I don’t, but we both know that’s not going to stop me.” I swivel away from them, looking toward the spiral drop to Fate’s den. There’s an entrance from each of the harbingers’ cities but it’s rarely used by anyone here outside of our leadership. I’ve never been. “I have to find a way. I’ll plead on my knees if I have to.”
“Just make sure you know what you want before you do anything hasty, Jax.”
“I want her.” I reply, clipping her off before she says anything else. She should understand the importance, especially with her mate by her side. “There has to be a way and I’m going to find it.”
“I hope you do.” She opens her arms, and I can’t fight the pull to hug her. I don’t hold her concerns against her. She just wants to keep me safe. Wasn’t I the one to welcome and comfort her all those winters ago after she’d become so sick that Fate had swept in and brought her here? Now she was comforting me. “Good luck, Jax.”
“I don’t need luck,” I say with a chuckle. “I just need Fate.”