Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Jack
The cold was my ally, but after everything that had transpired this afternoon, followed by what had just happened with Sylvi, I prayed it would seep through my flesh and freeze me to death.
I knew my best friend had a temper, but I’d truly stoked her anger tonight.
More than that, I’d seen the crushing pain in her eyes before she’d stormed off, shoulders squared, breath puffing in the air, her boots digging angry footprints in the snow.
Her wrath flogged against my skin like a whip soaked in brine, but chasing after her would’ve only made things worse.
When Sylvi bared her teeth, she could bite, and by the gods, she’d likely rip my head clean off right now.
Fighting would get us nowhere. Skadi knew we both needed to cool off, or we’d only end up yelling at each other, swords at our throats again.
With deft fingers, a dark, silky sensation thrummed over my nerve endings as the images of her straddling me surfaced from the depths of my filthiest fantasies.
The tension between us tonight had crackled with a different kind of energy—the kind of rich, sinful energy that made everything male inside me growl with a raw awareness that threatened to reduce me to my primal instincts.
I raked a nervous hand through my hair, needing to get the thought of Sylvi sitting on top of me out of my head, but it was impossible when the memory of her thighs pressed against me sent fresh currents of feral need straight below my waist. The feel of her strong, powerful legs and the warmth of her core had stirred the unseelie magic seething under my skin.
I’d pushed her off me and pinned her beneath my body, hoping I’d been fast enough and that she’d not felt how hard her fury had made me.
But when I gripped her hands and held them down against the snow, I knew a line had been crossed, and now there was no going back.
Not from the way her eyes had darkened with an amber hue, with that same intense heat that had flared in my blood.
She’d thought about it…had felt it. When I loomed over her, our mouths so close her breath had practically become mine, Sylvi had wanted me to kiss her, and damn my soul if I almost didn’t crash my lips against hers and stolen that kiss.
Fuck. How could I be thinking about how badly I’d wanted to kiss her—more than just kiss her, if I were being honest with myself—when I’d hurt her so deeply with my lies.
I wanted to believe that this need for her had sparked from the dark pit of my soul, from the place where that beast had laid dormant until it awakened while out in the Wildlands, but I couldn’t wholeheartedly believe that.
Not when I knew I’d fantasized about taking those lips between my teeth innumerable times—long before this failed campaign, and long before I’d felt the hunger of that inky power writhing inside me.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. I hated how I’d treated her. Hated that I hadn’t told her the whole truth. Hated that my mother had dared to belittle her, to tell her that her hard-earned promotion was nothing more than a glorified babysitting job.
Storming into the palace and demanding an explanation had run through my head, but what good would that have done?
I already knew why my mother had made that decision—she wasn’t content unless her metal-tipped nails were buried deep into everything, and that included me.
Her grip had been tightening for years, and now it was nearly suffocating.
But seeing my mother right now would send me into a fit of rage I’d rather avoid.
I’d confront her tomorrow, once I was more levelheaded.
Right now, I needed a distraction, something to help me focus on how to fix this fucking mess.
But trying to wield magic had clearly not worked, and staying in this maze was now out of the question, especially when all I saw were memories of me and Sylvi everywhere I looked.
The last one, the kind of memory I didn’t want to keep repeating inside my head, or I feared I might combust. Something that should’ve been near impossible, given I was made of ice magic, yet there I was, struggling to squelch the fire tracing scorching tracks across every muscle fiber.
As I made up my mind and turned my steps toward the only other place that usually offered me a semblance of peace, my eyes landed on Sylvi’s discarded cloak.
So much for wanting to get memories of her out of my head right now.
Bending down to pick it up, a trembling breath trickled from my lips the instant her scent hit me.
Despite knowing what it would do to me, I brought the fabric to my nose and inhaled deeply.
Gods, I’d always loved the way she smelled, like frost-kissed cinnamon and wild honey, something untamed yet intoxicating.
A scent that spoke of crisp winter mornings, strong and fresh, but beneath it, a lingering warmth, the kind that melted the edges of the coldest nights.
It was a contradiction, just like her. Fierce yet soft, tough yet inviting.
A scent that wrapped around me, got under my skin, and refused to let go.
Fuck. I really needed to get the Hel out of that maze, but I couldn’t bear leaving the cloak behind. Taking it with me, I marched toward the magical beast enclosure, praying to the winter goddess that the snow leopards might be able to dull the blades slicing through my sanity.
The smell of damp earth, animal musk, and fur greeted me as I passed through the towering iron gates of the menagerie.
The guards who were manning their posts barely spared me a glance as I ambled through, too accustomed to my presence at this hour.
Torches flickered with pale flames along the pathways, their enchanted light casting long shadows over the enclosures.
The air carried the deep, rumbling purrs of the great snow leopards, their forms shifting in the darkness, almost spectral.
As I approached their preserve, the leopards lifted their heads, blue eyes glinting in the dim torchlight.
The younger ones bounded toward me first, brushing their massive heads against my hands as I reached through the metal bars, their fur thick and soft beneath my fingers.
The older ones hung back, watching, waiting.
They knew something was wrong, knew some of their own were missing.
The loss hung over them like a storm cloud, the unease in their bodies making the air heavy.
I knelt beside the closest leopard, rubbing my fingers over the enchanted collar around its neck, the spell embedded within it humming faintly against my skin.
My mother’s magic—the very thing that stripped them of their free will when she commanded it.
The thing that had sent them into the Christmas village a week ago like rabid monsters, forced to obey her will.
A fresh wave of rage surged inside me.
The leopards had attacked the village, wounding several of Yulreth’s magical beasts before they fled back into the forest, but their prince had gone after them.
Not that I could blame him. I would’ve done the same thing if someone had sent beasts to attack my people.
But despite being severely wounded himself, the prince had managed to cut them down. Every single one.
And I had found their bodies.
My stomach clenched at the memory of their lifeless forms, their thick white fur matted with blood. I had grown up alongside these beasts. I had trained them, cared for them, understood them in a way no one else in this court did. And now, because of my mother, some of them were dead.
I exhaled slowly, willing myself to push the fury down as I stroked the leopard’s head. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “You deserve better.”
The great cat nudged my hands in response, its purr rumbling deep and comforting. Inside these walls, they were safe. Free. And yet, outside, they were nothing but weapons at the queen’s disposal. The irony left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Gods, if you’re going to be so morose, at least do it in private,” a familiar voice drawled from the shadows.
A short smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I shook my head, turning toward my shadow keeper, Ravin Valeska.
He leaned lazily against the frosted gate, the torchlight catching in his frock of unruly red curls, making them look like spun copper.
His eyes were foxfire gold, always dancing, always watching, bright enough to disarm, sharp enough to gut.
Right now, they glowed with amusement, but beneath his lopsided grin was a keen intelligence most people overlooked.
Dressed in a finely tailored coat and dark breeches, he looked more like a wayward noble at the tail end of a raucous party than one responsible for stealing secrets.
And that was his gift. His easy charm and flamboyant, fun-loving persona made him the perfect spy. No one suspected a young lord who loved drinking, gambling, and bedding half the noble court to be the deadliest observer in Skadgard.
“I was sulking in private before you showed up,” I said, leaning against the bars. The leopards purred behind me, though I knew that underneath their calm demeanor, their eyes were keenly assessing my friend.
“I saw Sylvi tear through the gates like she was ready to cleave someone in half,” he said, flicking an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. “Dare I ask what you did to piss her off this time?”
I sighed, scrubbing a hand down my face. “You mean in addition to keeping the truth from her? I told her I was considering marrying the Unseelie Princess.”
Ravin whistled. “I heard about your mother’s announcement at today’s debriefing. Talk about a plot twist… Not even I saw that one coming.”
I cocked a brow. “Glad to see my coin is going to waste.”