40. Jolie
40
JOLIE
W e finish out the trip abroad, and while Delilah hits the slopes, Lark and I hang out. Jax joins us off and on between his Frost duties. It’s so odd to have her see him, but I’m grateful not to have to keep the secret any longer. To share the blessing and burden of being mated to an immortal. It’s also nice to be with someone who doesn’t earn an eye roll or glare from her every time he’s around.
Jax seems to enjoy the company too. He and Lark goof off together like they didn’t meet days ago. She asks to see his magic, and he proudly shows off for her, making snow fall over our heads, drawing obscene pictures with ice on the lodge’s windows, sculpting ballerinas in elegant poses on my balcony. They’re so detailed, eerily capturing our likeness. I recognize the flare of my chiffon skirt and the stiff tulle of Lark’s emerald ensemble. He really was there that night. Not that I didn’t believe him, but the icy proof makes my heart melt even more. If that’s possible.
Joy radiates off of him with an otherworldly glow. I know he has a family of sorts within the Frosts, but it must be lonely being surrounded by mortals who can’t see you. A world that doesn’t know you exist. The lightness to his tone, in his gait, it’s something I want to freeze and carry with me long after this trip.
The time to leave arrives, but I refuse to say goodbye. I just can’t. Instead, we talk through our bond off and on, keeping each other company if only in our minds. It’s a comfort unlike anything I’ve ever known. When my flight crosses over the ocean, I nearly panic, worried I won’t hear him once I’m stateside.
“You still here?” I ask tentatively, scared I’ll only be met with silence.
“I’ll always be here, Tempest.” His low chuckle vibrates through my mate mark. “Remember that cute little bite you gave me? You’re stuck with me now.”
“Cute? Little?” I say in mock offense, taking a quick glance at the subtle silvery glow coming from my sternum. It’s faint but there in all its reassuring glory. “I happened to feel very ferocious when I did that.”
“Oh, you certainly are ferocious.” Without seeing him, I can tell he’s smirking, and I wish I was there to kiss and nip at his bottom lip. “I’ll make sure to warn the other harbingers to stay wary now that they’re on your radar. My perfectly feral mate.”
“Only feral for you,” I chime back.
His silky growl simmers below my belly. I’m certain if he were closer he’d be able to scent my desire, and that thought brings with it a slew of memories:
My handprints smeared across the studio mirror.
Delicious mint chocolate coating my tongue.
His skin stamping frost marks upon my own.
The searing stretch of my body around his knot, locked together for hours.
A low rumble vibrates through our connection. He’s remembering too.
Our stolen moments are small treasures I’ll pull out and admire until winter brings Jax back to me. He’ll still need to hibernate. There will be times of radio silence despite our newly formed mate bond. But hearing his voice from thousands of miles away is better than nothing. It’s a reminder that even as he fades back into the veil of his world that he’s real.
That he is, and will always be, mine.