Chapter 14
Jakfros
Ifeel warm; so incredibly, impossibly warm. It is making my magic erratic, fueling to a higher point to where I can feel the frost flowing off me in waves without the constant, sucking draw of the season draining it from me. It is sublime, but I want more of it.
A small, nervous pant escapes from between my lips as I glance back at Shawna.
Her cheeks are rosy from the cold and her face is pale, but her eyes sparkle at me, making my pulse quicken.
How can I be so affected by a human? Does Shawna have some kind of special magic of her own?
I have heard tales of species who can seduce males by drawing on his desire.
If not for the fact that I am quite certain that she is human, I might have wondered whether she has hidden her true nature from me.
It cannot be normal that her scent fills my nose with every breath, no matter how sweet the environment is, or how open and clean the air.
No matter where I am, she fills my senses, and it is reaching a point of being concerning.
I do not even know what possessed me just moments ago.
My ice queen? Did I truly call her that?
Did I truly dare to insinuate the true depth of my clawing need for her?
No matter how much I wish to claim that I was possessed in those moments, I know the truth—and that is perhaps most frightening of all: that I, a frost demon, am no longer in control of the situation. I have fallen into my own trap.
I covertly glance back at her again to watch the way she tips her head back to admire the snow-laden trees, revealing the soft flesh of her neck.
This demonstration of vulnerability stirs my hunger to greater urgency.
I lick my lips, ravenous, her decadent scent filling me as I fasten my eyes on her pulse.
She is brimming over with vitality even now, and still it is too soon for the feast.
Another pant escapes me, this one more ragged than the last, and I tremble as I push my wings harder.
I do not dare look back at her again as I glide between the trees.
I cannot afford the distraction while I am pulling the sled behind me.
The soft chime of the bells at my waist with every beat of my wings sings to me far too sweetly of the forbidden, teasing me and tempting me to let go and to embrace everything that the Dark Ones have put before me.
I do not think Shawna realizes the true depth of what I desire.
I do not wish for merely the Yule feast of pleasure.
My ice queen is mine and I want to keep her beneath my wings, not unlike those witches that demons have taken as lovers and mates over the ages.
But what if I cannot make her happy to remain with me?
Other demons have acquired their mates through various trials that bonded them together.
What Shawna and I have is a winter holiday paradise that would lose its enchantment quickly.
The matter of the forbidden set aside, as I am caring less and less about such technicalities, she would not be content to remain in a perpetual atmosphere of festivities.
But what else do I have to offer her when every interaction with mortals has been motivated by one purpose—the Yule Feast?
What do I have to offer beyond the comforts of a passing holiday?
My wings flap a little faster with my rising anxiety, and I dart between the trees with an increasing speed that I did not dare previously.
I am not even aware of it until Shawna’s gasp of something akin to fear brings me back to reality and I immediately check my flight, bringing it to a more reasonable pace before glancing back at her apologetically.
“Did I frighten you?” I call worriedly.
To my surprise, she shakes her head and gives me an impish grin. “That speed was something else, but I understand your eagerness to return to the cabin. To be honest, I am impatient too.”
Her smile turns embarrassed, sending a sensation singing straight to my groin even as my heart patters an erratic tempo within my chest. I am yet again charmed by her warmth, vulnerability, and softness that I am finding it a bit difficult to string two thoughts together, much less function.
It is truly a miracle I am avoiding the trees so effortlessly.
But maybe that is the luck of the witless fool that follows his heart.
A terrible thought occurs to me... am I merely attracted to her because she draws out my predatory instincts?
Is her nature merely calling to the part of me that is eagerly anticipating an easy kill?
My smile fades at the thought, but I bolster it again when I see her own happiness begin to wither in response.
I cannot allow that. Outside of my own needs, I simply just cannot stand to see her unhappy.
Perhaps I am wrong about the predatory instincts being aroused, because no predator would truly care about the feelings of their prey.
Any other frost demon would be working to find the right angle to play off her feelings to their advantage, not try to guard them as I so desperately want to do.
I give her a small, reluctant smile. “I am eager too. I am also nervous,” I admit as I shift my wings, opening them wide in a casual glide as I talk to her.
“This is an atypical situation for a frost demon,” I add with a small chuckle as I shift my gaze once more ahead of me.
Though I have been lucky, it would not do to go careening into a tree unexpectedly.
“I guess demons don’t really fall in love,” she murmurs in a voice so soft that it gives me pause and I nearly fall out of the air with the absurdity of her observation. What do humans really believe about demons?
I swallow and clear my throat, uncertain whether I should answer or simply leave it as a private speculation that I was not meant to hear.
My jaw tightens with uncertainty as I study the trees ahead of me, searching for the first glimpse of the cabin.
I could go on as if I never heard it, but I cannot unhear it.
It additionally seems ridiculous to allow such a wrong idea to go unchallenged.
But would it hurt her more if she realizes that frost demons are particularly damaged?
Or what if she mistakenly believes that she is the problem if it is not a universal demonic trait?
I fret about it for several minutes as I fly before finally breaking the silence.
“Demons are not incapable of loving,” I say gruffly. “It just does not always follow the rules of human love.” I think for a moment and give a wry chuckle. “Or those of other demonic races, for that matter.”
I can feel her eyes boring into me. I wonder what she is thinking, but I cannot bring myself to look back at her while she mentally digests what I have said.
“So, you are worried that the way a frost demon loves will be repugnant to me?” she asks, and I wince because that is not the half of it.
“It is more that the matter is even more difficult to understand among frost demons,” I admit.
“Our family structures are not typical. We are raised by our mother and her family. The mother teaches us all we need to survive, supplemented by what we also learn from our uncles and aunts. Frost demons choosing to mate is rare because of this. No male frost demon would tolerate watching his mate feast upon another male.”
Truthfully, I cannot say that I blame them.
Previously, I believed it was absurd. Feasting was feasting, but now that I know the true hunger that comes from being with her, it has changed everything.
The idea of feasting on another female or the possibility of another male touching my Shawna is enough to turn my stomach.
“The fathers are human, aren’t they?” Shawna observes, startling me anew.
“You are indeed clever,” I reply with a weak laugh.
Some of the tension within me is released when I catch the first glimpse of the soft glow of light from the cabin.
We are nearly there. Finally. “Only females enjoy certain aspects of the Yule Feast. It is forbidden for a frost demon to be born and reared outside of our realm. For this reason, every male is raised with the understanding that we are not permitted to know the mutual pleasures of the feast. As our race is dependent on a symbiotic breeding relationship with humans, it leaves everyone in an awkward position when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“So... why not keep the humans?” she asks, mirroring the question that I asked so many years ago.
I glance back at her thoughtfully. “I do not know. I only know that it is not done.”
“Is not done... or cannot be done?” Shawna replies, and that gives me pause as the trees open and the cabin comes into full view.
“Good question,” I murmur.
Dare I test it?
I draw to a stop in front of the cabin and touch down, my booted feet crunching in the snow.
I only just manage to fold my wings when suddenly Shawna is cupping my cheek and turning me towards her.
Her blue eyes have such warmth and softness within their depths that it is an inviting contrast to the sharp, cool hue of winter.
I am not certain if I can resist their allure, but then she smiles, and I am drawn further into her spell.
“I think I’m willing to take my chances to find out,” she whispers, and she stands on her tiptoes to press her lips to mine.
I freeze in shock at the heat that rushes through me at that simple contact.
A tremor follows the heat, and I instinctively curl forward around her as my wings enclose us entirely.
The sweetness of her mouth is indescribable, and I am lost in it as I allow myself to sink into her taste and heat.
I drag her in closer and then up into my arms so that she is no longer standing on her own two feet.
This does not matter at all to me. If I had my way, she would never walk anywhere again but would instead remain within my embrace.
It is not practical, of course, but that matters little at this particular moment as I carry Shawn into the cabin and directly into the living room, kicking the door closed behind me amidst the flurry of snowflakes that follow me in.
Setting her on her feet in front of the fire, I begin to unwind her scarf, and my lips tip at the excitement and humor in her eyes as she allows me to divest her of her winter things.
The scarf is followed by the hat, and then the mittens.
The coat and boots go next so that I have her exactly as I want her as I draw her down onto the sheepskin rug with me.
There is no book to serve as a distraction tonight.
The moment she is on the rug beside me, my wings have closed around her again, drawing her to me as I draw her shirt up and off her arms. Her pants follow with a few careless tugs that pull them off completely inside out until she is sitting in nothing except her undergarments.
I trail a claw along her bare thigh in fascination.
She is so utterly perfect. I instinctively draw in a deep breath, longing for a deeper natural connection that I desperately need, and I immediately regret it.
This was a mistake. My need is greater than I thought it was.
I did not truly comprehend until this moment.
It was not until I tasted her deepening scent that I understood, but by then it was too late.
Already it has awakened something raw and primal within me, and it responds with a fierce intensity.
The feast has not yet begun, but I am hungry.... Now. I cannot wait. This hunger must be fed.