38. Jolie
38
JOLIE
I spend the night in Jax’s arms, the warmth of the fire beaming on me while he’s cool on my back. My body aches. A glorious throb between my thighs that he soothes with his icy magic. Every so often I wake, kissing him, pulling him on top of me to feel him solid against me. I need these reminders that he’s here. Real.
Mine.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
I crane my neck over Jax to see who’s calling. The last thing I want to do is leave his arms, but Maral’s name flashes across the screen.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
I ignore the slickness between my legs, some of it seeping out from me, and I get up to hurry to the phone vibrating on my nightstand. “Hello. Mistress Maral?”
“Hello, Ms. Wilder.” Her tone is firm with a brush of something lighter. “I wanted to inform you that the director and I spoke after your performance at the festival. We both agree that you’re ready to take a more prominent position within Ballet Potomac.”
My throat quivers and my heart pounds wildly. “Really?”
Jax’s arms wrap around me, dragging me backward until I’m flush with his chest. The ridges of his frost marks graze my shoulder blades, and I sink into the sensation.
“Yes, really. You’ve worked hard all season, continued to show that you take your career seriously. Gone to your physical therapy appointments,” she adds, tone a bit sterner. “You’ll start rehearsals as a soloist once you’re back. And will continue your appointments with Heather.”
“Yes!” I squeal, then clear my throat, trying to train myself into regal calm. “Thank you, Mistress Maral. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Continue to impress us, Ms. Wilder, and I see big things in your future.”
I see them too. The beautiful ache of long days at the studio. Floating above the audience, gliding gracefully across the stage in silks, tulles, and chiffons. The thunder of applause beneath the heat of the spotlight. They’re flashes of dreams buried deep in my soul—ones I thought would be made reality at the Institute. Instead, those dreams have been saved for the place where I truly belong.
“Thank you, Mistress Maral. For everything. See you when I get back stateside.”
“See you at rehearsals, Jolie.”
I knew I danced my heart out. Left every piece of me under those magical lights. But being proud of your own performance doesn’t mean anything will come of it.
I didn’t dare hope for more.
Now it’s happening. Really happening. A reclamation of the soloist I was. Only this time, it’ll be better because I’m stronger. Not just physically with the help of my PT sessions, but mentally and emotionally too.
I’ve spent my ballet career wanting to be seen. To show my worth. To be valued. But I’ve learned so much over the last year and a half. No matter how much I’ve sought their validation, the only one who can truly give it to me is myself. I know my worth. Know the blood and sweat and tears I’ve given season after season. Mistress Maral and the director have recognized it too, but at the end of the day, no one can believe in me more than myself.
I hadn’t been the first to see it. There had been others to breathe life into my belief. First my mom, all the years she supported me. Then there was Jax. His sacrifice gave me this chance to not only do what I love but love myself doing it.
Turning to face him, I cradle his sharp cheeks in my palms. “I did it. I got soloist.”
The smile that spreads across his face, the joy that bubbles from him, they’re expressions of raw hope, bottled up and shaken to burst.
“Thank you.” Tears streak my cheeks. I don’t bother to wipe them away. “Thank you for saving me.”
The rims of his eyes shimmer, highlighting the glittering shards of his irises. He’s beautiful, persistent, and eternally mine.
Pressing up to my tiptoes, I kiss him. Slowly. Gently. Then possessively and deep. His hand threads through my hair and he guides me to the bed, nestling between my thighs. We celebrate the future the best way we can: tangled together with our bodies surging as one.
Not long after, Lark knocks on the door. I kiss Jax goodbye for the day, watching him bound through the snow. His wolf runs into the far hills, ones I’ll be heading to today with our excursion. While I miss him already, I know he’ll find me there.
And I’m already anticipating the next time I can have him.
I never knew sex could be like this. Otherworldly. An out-of-body experience. My body heats at the memory. Not just because it’s mind-blowing, which it is, but because as much as I want to unravel him, watch him lose control under my touch, he equally wants that in return. His pleasure doesn’t exist without mine, and I don’t ever want my pleasure to exist without his.
The night replays on a loop in my mind the entire ride to our excursion: A night under the stars full of delicious food, drinks, and relaxing. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to actual camping. While I’ve booked myself an ice dome for one, I fully intend to have company with me all night.
I can’t wait.
Tonight is about much more than the opportunity to see Jax and to spend time with him. There’s something else I want from him before we’re left to say goodbye once again.
When we get to the campsite, our guides point out where our domes are located. I’m across from Lark and Delilah, so we part ways, agreeing to meet back at the bonfire’s central area in twenty minutes. I head to my ice dome, finding a lush bed with blankets and pillows, along with a nightstand. I throw my pack on the ground and rifle through it, making sure I packed the good underwear for later versus the long johns I’m rocking beneath my clothes right now. Thermal underwear is not part of my seduction plan. Not that I think he’ll need much seducing, but I don’t want any hesitating when we talk tonight. Every minute that passes reminds me of the looming months apart once I leave. I hate that we’ll be separated again.
Before I know it, my alarm goes off, and I wander out to the bonfire to meet Lark and Delilah. A few Frosts flit into my field of vision, and I search for Jax, wondering if he’s among them, disappointing myself when he’s not.
“Who’s ready for s’more fun?” Our tour guide Gail chimes over the loudspeaker. We follow the other excursionists into the large tented dome. Long tables span its width with different s’more fixings, cheeses, meats, and fruits.
We all load up our plates and exit the tent to gather around the bonfire, sitting along a bench that looks like it’s been dug straight into the snowbank.
“ Brr !” Lark says at the same time Delilah curses under her breath. I sit next to them, giving a dramatic shiver, though I’m not really bothered. Yes, my ass is chilly, but the cold isn’t an issue for me anymore. In fact, I sink into the numb, savoring its bite.
“I have news,” I say, voice bubbling over with excitement. “Ballet Potomac is promoting me to soloist.”
“Holy shit, Jojo!” Lark puts her plate down, nearly knocking me over with a hug. “I’m so happy for you. Selfishly sad you won’t be at the Institute with me, but I cannot wait to see you take center stage next season.”
“You know we’ll be in the front row,” Delilah adds, holding her fist out until I bump it.
We grab our hot cocoas and cheer with them before spending the next hour eating and taking turns toasting marshmallows on the fire. Once our bellies are full, we hang out and talk. Picking up the deck of cards, Delilah shuffles and passes them out. We play a few rounds of crazy eights. It’s nice, quiet, and kills time before it’s our turn to have the hot tub.
Lark and I part ways, throwing on our bathing suits and meeting at the tub. The sun sinks beyond the hills, painting the sky in silky shades of pink, purple, and gold.
It’s stunning, and I can’t take my eyes off of it as I climb in.
The warm water engulfs me, and I lean back, continuing to admire the sunset while Lark pours us each some white zinfandel. Cupping the stemless glass in my hands, I take a few sips, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face. Lark shoots me a grin, and the two of us sit together in perfect silence, enjoying the view.
I’ve been itching to tell her about Jax. About everything . It’s so hard keeping this secret from her. She’s held my hand on the hardest days of my life, is happy to talk through my struggles or sit silently with me like she is now. And I haven’t been able to be honest with her.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I gulp the rest of it down before I pour myself another. That catches Lark’s attention. “What’s going on, Jojo?”
“I have something to tell you, but I don’t want you to freak out.”
“Okay…” Lark’s brows furrow, then she eyes my empty glass before chugging her own, holding it out for me to top her off.
I tip over the bottle and begin to talk, my hand wobbling a bit. “After the accident, I kept remembering these eyes. Sparkling silvers and blues. Not like anything I’d ever seen before. I couldn’t figure out why at first. I figured it was some strange way of coping with the trauma of what happened. Then I saw those very same eyes on a wolf watching me from a window the first day at Ballet Potomac. After that, I started noticing strange things around the apartment. The thermostat being low, messages left for me… I thought it was a ghost.”
“Does this have something to do with the brand-new Ouija board shoved in my closet?”
“He broke it,” I blurt out before adding, “on accident!”
“He?” Her lips press into a line. My heart races, waiting for her to nod along with mock understanding or suggest I check myself into a facility. “So he’s the spirit you were communicating with?”
“Sort of.” I take another sip, the wine burning as it slides down my throat as I search for the right words. “He’s not a ghost. Well, he’s dead but also…not. He’s a harbinger, a winter one.”
She sets her glass on the side of the hot tub. “So less Casper and more Jack Frost?”
“Yes! Exactly.” Steam rises up around us, highlighting the slowly darkening sky. I put my empty glass next to her partially drunk one. “Funny story… Jack Frost is actually real. He’s retired now, but the idea is similar enough. Jax has only met him a few times.”
“Jax?” She cocks her head to the side, as if testing the name in her mind.
“Yeah. That’s his name.”
The seconds stretch on for what feels like forever, only the sound of the jet spinning bubbles through the warm water filling the silence.
“And you and Jax are still communicating?” Each word is slowly enunciated, like she can’t decide how she feels about what I’m saying. Not that I can blame her. She should be more panicked right now. Shouldn’t she?
She places a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, Jojo. You’ve gotten this much out.”
She’s right. I’ve already told her most of the crazy parts, what’s a little mate chat between friends at this point? I clear my throat. “We are still communicating, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“How complicated?”
I grimace. “Complicated enough that I’m pouring us each one more glass.”
“Then you better get pouring, Jojo, because I need to know everything,” she says, lifting her glass up and nodding toward the half-empty bottle of wine.
I spend the next thirty minutes talking her through everything until we’re out of wine.
“So you can call him?” She blinks at me. “Do it.”
“I mean, it’s not always immediate.”
“Just try it. I want to meet him!”
Is this some sort of trick? Does she not believe me?
“Um. Okay.” Sliding my hand to my mark, I glide my fingertips over it. “Jax, are you there?”
For a few moments, all I hear are the sounds of my breaths. My pulse kicks up beneath my hand. Then, in a rush of wind, he appears, pale-blue skin glimmering against the dimming backdrop, the moon faintly glowing within the dark-purple sky scattered with stars.
“Hello, Tempest.”
“You came.”
“I said I would.” His gaze turns to Lark who’s staring at him. Like she…
“Do you see him?”
“If you’re talking about this very attractive guy with platinum-and-blue streaked hair, yes.”
“Nice to meet you, Lark,” Jax says with a small bow.
She smirks at him, slipping a hand under my chin to shut my mouth that’s hanging open. “Likewise.”
“How?” I gape at her. It took me months to see him and here Lark is, chatting with Jax in a matter of minutes.
“You said yourself that you needed to believe.” Lark shrugs like this is just a casual hang out between friends. “I followed your lead.”
“So you see him. You agree he’s real. And you don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Well, we’re all a little crazy,” she says with a chuckle, putting an arm behind me on the hot tub’s ledge, her brown eyes meeting mine. “But yes. I believe you.”
Snapping her attention to Jax, she waves him toward one of the empty seats opposite us. When he sinks down into the water, I still, half expecting him to melt or freak out by the heat. Instead, the temperature just lessens in intensity, as if he’s cooling it, but not enough to bother Lark. Leaning back in her seat, she gestures at him with her hand. “Now, tell me all about yourself, Jax. Jojo’s given me a quick rundown, but I want to know what your intentions are for my bestie.”
When our time’s up in the hot tub, we head back to our respective ice domes to change into fresh clothes. Jax follows, sitting on the edge of the bed while I peel off my wet swimsuit. I pull a towel from my bag, and he grabs my wrist as I walk past. “Let me.”
“Okay.” He guides me between his knees, his face level with my breasts. He pats down my body gently, covering my skin with kisses until I’m completely dry.
I put on my thermals, navy blue with snowflakes swirling across them.
“If I didn’t know any better, Tempest, I’d think you picked these out with me in mind.”
“Maybe I did.”
“Then maybe I look forward to stripping them off of you later before I have you sit on my face.”
For someone so chilly, how did it just get so hot in here?
I swallow hard, pushing down the vision in my mind. The one I really want to make happen. But we promised Lark we wouldn’t miss stargazing. While she isn’t telling Delilah about Jax or what I told her, the idea of not keeping it a secret and having him there with me makes me smile.
Jax presses a soft kiss to the nape of my neck, then hands me the rest of my clothes, jacket, and beanie. If he wasn’t blue, didn’t just stroll in through the ice wall, or transform into a giant wolf, this would almost feel normal. “How come you can touch me and move the things around us now so easily? You didn’t seem to be able to before.”
“Your belief solidifies me,” he says, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.
I take his hand and fold his arm around me, wriggling my ass against him. He growls. “You do that again and we won’t make it out to meet your friends.”
“Fine,” I whine, giving him one last playful swish of my hips, “but I expect you to ravage me thoroughly afterward.”
With a snap of his fingers he’s dressed in full cold-weather gear, like the cold somehow affects him. A dark jacket and matching jeans with a peek of a light-blue shirt. He smiles, and I swear it always manages to make me melt. “Oh, I’m counting down the minutes.”
So am I.
I spend the next hour and a half listening to Gail talk about the stars while thinking only of the harbinger at my back. I can feel his presence the entire time, and I wonder how close he was before I could see him; how often I didn’t realize he was right there, waiting for me to believe. Waiting for me to find him too.
We say goodnight to everyone and head back to my ice dome. Each crunch of snow beneath my feet makes my nerves bubble closer and closer to the surface. Barely inside, my hands find Jax, stripping away his jacket, shirt, pants, and briefs. They all disappear before they hit the floor.
I crash my mouth to his, and we’re a tangle of teeth and lips and tongues. Skimming the hem of my shirt, he peels it over my head before unclasping my bra and palming my breasts in his hands. I moan against his mouth. Gripping my waistband, I pull my bottoms down, stepping out of them before pushing Jax back onto the bed.
I climb up his strong body, admiring every dip, curve, line, and feathered frost mark. He gives me a firm smack to the back of my thigh. “Get up here, Tempest, I’ve been craving your taste.”
I turn, moving backward. Lowering my hips, I hover just above his face.
“Lower.”
“I-I’ve never done this. I don’t want to suffocate you.”
“Not possible.” He chuckles. “Though I’d gladly let you.”
He gives me a tug down to his lips and I yelp. His tongue feels like it’s everywhere as he licks, and laps, and spears into me.
It’s incredible.
“Oh god, Jax.” I quake above him and watch his body come to life, cock hardening with each messy stroke, and I grab his chest to steady myself. His mate mark stares back at me, and I give into the instinct to touch it, grazing the pads of my fingers over each silvery ridge. He groans beneath me, his cock lengthening under my gaze. Pearly streaks slip from the slit on its head.
I lick my lips.
Then lean forward, thumbing the silver ball. More precum weeps out. It’d be a shame to waste it…
I bend forward and lap up every morsel leaking from him, savoring his sweet taste and the chill of it against my tongue. I moan as he worships my clit, sucking in pulses that have my hips jerking, out of control. Mint and chocolate slip down my throat as I wrap my lips around his tip and sink lower on his shaft until my chin meets his pelvis. The ball taps the back of my throat, and I swallow against it, choking a bit, tears rimming my eyes.
“Fuck,” Jax growls against my clit, the sharp tip of his canine nipping where I’m most sensitive. And I want it. I want those teeth to sink into my skin while his knot pumps into me over and over. I want to know what it feels like to tether myself to him completely, to sense him as much as he senses me.
Just say the word and I’ll happily sink my teeth into that sexy throat of yours.
My hips writhe on his face, and I cry out, the orgasm whipping into me so hard that I can’t even focus. All I can do is moan around his cock. My heart pounds, and pounds, and pounds, until I finally release him from my lips.
I am pure instinct. Want and need. As Jax continues to consume my soul through another earth-shattering orgasm, I bottle up the pressure building in me, take a deep inhale, and sink my teeth into the inside of his thigh.
Mine.
Copper hits my tongue, followed by a fiery ice that floods my veins. It fills me with a wildness I don’t care to tame. One that will only be sated by my mate’s bite, his knot…
His claim.