Chapter 10
Jakfros
Iprowl restlessly toward the back of the cabin before abruptly spinning around and stalking back to the living area at the front.
I can only pretend that the enticing sounds and fragrances of Shawna bathing are not what is luring me back toward the bathing room repeatedly.
I try to distract myself by rearranging some décor near the fireplace before slowly working my way inward, making tiny festive adjustments here and there.
And yet, somehow, I find myself standing outside the bathroom door again like a lecherous and depraved creature.
From behind the door, I hear the sound of water splashing and smell the tart scent of apples—not unlike the dessert from the previous day—carried on the escaping steam.
With it, the delicate ripple of happiness curls through the air.
It stirs my appetite, and the yawning hunger within me seethes with its silent demand.
It would be just a small matter to step inside and take a taste of the pleasure infusing into the steamy air.
Then there is also the temptation to glimpse more of Shawn’s lush figure.
That alone makes my mouth grow dry as my hunger rises sharply.
Ridiculous! Am I a frost demon or an incubus?
I should only be concerned with the pleasant energy flowing from her, even if it is just a small amount of excess at this moment.
Yes, she is attractive—I have privately noted that many times—but whatever attraction a frost demon might feel toward his or her prey never factors into the hunger.
Not even among the females who breed freely with their prey.
Desire is something that they indulge in only as an afterthought once their hunger has been satiated.
To be obsessed with her body and have that inflame my hunger is unnatural.
And to be tempted... that is to toe the line of everything that is forbidden.
A shiver runs through me at the very thought of the “unnatural” pleasures that I could enjoy with Shawna.
If she were agreeable to it, I would make her sing her passions to the realms so that it becomes a dream of longing and need to all that is slumbering, even to the trees frozen in the grip of winter.
Imagine how eagerly life would burst forth come spring, ripened with its own hunger throughout the coldest nights.
The hunger stirs more violently within me, curling upward from my belly in long, barbed tendrils that sink deeper into me, inflaming my blood as my entire world narrows to an unthinking and unseeing state of need bleeding through my being.
I do not even realize how powerfully it has gripped me until I hear the sound of wood splintering.
The door comes back into focus before my eyes and I see my hand splayed against it, holding up my weight as I lean into the door as if it is a flimsy barrier that I just push my way through.
But my claws have scored deep marks into the door.
I stare out those furrows in surprise, not even able to fully comprehend what I am seeing.
I did that? I am a jovial creature of winter. Although I can have a vicious bite, I prefer playful nips and the dance of my claws as I spin my magic. Not... this.
“Jak? Is that you?”
I jolt back and stumble over my own feet as I guiltily take a couple of abrupt steps back. Caught, my heart races, my mouth gaping and snapping shut repeatedly as I search for any excuse to explain why I am loitering outside of the bathroom.
I hear a soft curse, and it sinks to my mind that I heard a much softer variation just moments ago, though I had dismissed the sound. It is louder now and the frustration more evident as it is accompanied by the sound of sloshing water.
“Damn it! Why isn’t this coming open? Jak?”
Oh, she doesn’t suspect anything. She is calling me for assistance. My shoulders and wings sag with relief, and I edge back toward the door, careful to make my steps sound louder to emphasize my approach. I rest my cheek on the door.
“Shawna? Is there a problem?” I call through the door.
The water sloshes again, louder this time, and it is followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the door.
I wrench back just in time to avoid falling through the doorway when the door swings open and Shawna blinks at me in surprise.
A fuzzy red robe with a tiny holly print on it wrapped around her.
She pinches the neck of the robe together with one hand as she stares at me, and I return her stare as guilelessly as possible.
Her brow dips slightly, with a faint crease of confusion popping between them, before her expression relaxes with relief.
“Oh good. You’re here.” She huffs a small, frustrated breath and chuckles as she opens the door wider and turns toward the tub, gesturing to it. “As it happens, there is a little problem. The plug that blocks the drain is stuck in the tub. I can’t release the water.”
I glance over at the tub quizzically. The steam coming off it is barely perceptible, but there is enough of it to make me confused. Is she finished already? The water has not even cooled down yet.
“You want to drain it?” I echo and look back at her in scrutiny. Her hair is damp and her skin an alarming shade of red. “Did you burn yourself?,” I ask in alarm, and I instinctively take a step closer.
To my surprise, she giggles and takes a step back out of reach. “Don’t be silly. I’ve obviously finished bathing. I just need help to drain the tub.”
Now I am really confused, and I glance back at the tub.
Perhaps I am mistaken. Frost demons tend to be sensitive to intense heat, so the steam may just be a matter of my imagination exaggerating the traces that remain present in the air.
That sounds perfectly reasonable. It is certainly not impossible. That must be it.
Nodding to myself, I casually head toward the tub and crouch down at its side.
My nose wrinkles slightly in response to the heat I can feel coming off the tub.
That doesn’t seem quite right for cooling bath water.
I tap a finger to my bottom lip as I consider the temperature as I am still uncertain how it could remain so observably warm when she just climbed out of it, but I am distracted by the sound of Shawna’s retreating footsteps and so my gaze shoots toward her and follows her as she heads to the door.
“I am going to go put something warm on before I freeze,” she comments in parting, and she rubs her arms briskly with a little shiver as she leaves the bathing room.
My heart leaps as I am struck with the instinct to hurry behind her, the hunger propelling me.
I fight against it and throttle the urge as I circle my neck to release the tension and lift my wings slightly in a small shrug.
I will just hurry and get this done, and then I can rejoin her at a more normal and sedate pace rather than racing after her like a lunatic.
My wings pop as I stretch them just as I plunge my hand into the water.
At the moment of contact with the water, I freeze in response to the sensation of heat attacking my skin.
It is not the usual cool bathing water that I have occasionally emptied for my human “guests.” This is horrifically hot, punishingly so.
And suddenly I understand why Shawna’s skin is so angrily red.
She is torturing herself as if she is trying to vacation with fire demons!
Despite the urge to rip my hand from the hot water, I bite back a snarl and sink it deeper as I claw for the plug.
It feels like it takes an eternity to reach it, but at last, one claw hooks onto the ring and I shift my hold on it so that I grip it completely.
Gritting my teeth against the scalding heat of the bathwater, I use all of my strength and yank my arm upward.
I pull with so much strength that the bells on my sash jingle with a chaotic volume as I tear my hand and lower arm from the liquid inferno surrounding it.
And with it... the plug. The sound of rushing water rapidly draining from the tub greets my ears as I stare at the plug blankly for a moment but the moment it registers, I sink down to the ground at the side of the tub, my tail curling at my side as I release a thankful groan.
Thank the dark ones that it came up easily enough.
What would I have done if it had required another attempt?
Could I willingly put my hand in that water again? I shudder at the thought.
No, I do not think so. I would have had to sit beside the tub, waiting for it to cool for a long period before I would trust the heat of the water again.
My wings twitch helplessly. Even the porcelain of the tub feels too hot against my wings.
What was I thinking? I will not make that mistake again.
Next time Shawna struggles with the bathtub, it will just have to wait for morning, just to be sure; otherwise, I do not think I will be able to rejoin Shawna so quickly after facing the merciless heat of her baths.
My lips twitch in amusement despite myself. This hunger within me must be insane. If she is capable of withstanding such heat, then how hot would her passions be? Would a frost demon such as myself even survive? Why does that not deter me?
A soft purr rumbles in my chest. Truthfully, the pain could destroy me, but the agony of it would be the sweetest to carry with me into oblivion. What more could a demon ask for?