Chapter 19
Shawna
Iam skipping down the forest path. I feel ridiculous and juvenile, especially since I am sinking a bit and snow is kicking up every time I take a skipping step forward, but I can’t bring myself to really care how silly I look.
That Jak is holding my hand and grinning while I act like an idiot is endearing him even more to me.
How was I never lucky enough to find someone like this in my own world with another human?
My last boyfriend had merely given me an impatient look whenever I acted less than mature and would quickly distance himself.
But not Jak. Conversely, he seems completely delighted with it, his wings fanning slightly with his pleasure as his tail flicks the air in an upbeat rhythm.
And that just makes his natural sex appeal ramp up even higher to me.
Beyond his temperament and the attraction between us, there is the fact that I appreciate every moment with him and feel fulfilled even when we are just casually sitting together.
I truly can’t imagine the long stretch of days ahead of me in which he would no longer be a consistent figure present in my daily life.
It could also in part be the great sex talking, but that is a chance I’m willing to take.
Which just begs the question: why do I want to go back again?
I follow the feeling deep within my gut as I admire the crystalline branches of the iced trees.
There is no emotional tension knotting me up miserably, no dread, or anxiety twisting me up with the knowledge that tomorrow brings another day that I have to get through while trying to find some small silver lining, or small thread of happiness, to say that the day was worth it after all.
There is nothing but a feeling of lightness that I can only imagine is peace and contentment.
Jak hasn’t made me any promises, but I feel. .. happy. Does he feel the same?
I steal a peek at him from the corner of my eye and bite back a smile when I discover that he isn’t even looking at our surroundings.
Instead, he is watching me, his gaze warm and his sharp, angular features softened into something sweet as his lips curl in a faint smile.
His lips part slightly as if he is about to say something.
My heart quickens in reaction, but the moment ends and his lips close again, returning to that same quiet smile.
I am tempted to ask him what he is thinking.
Is he thinking the same thing as I am? Does he daydream about what it would be like to be together like this every day?
But the words remain stuck behind my lips because I do not even know where to begin without sounding like an idiot.
But if he asked... if he even so much as whispered that he wants me to stay, what then?
I lick my lips as I walk at a sedate pace at Jak’s side. My gaze drifting among the trees, I test the feeling of either option. Stay or go home?
I would stay. The answer wells up from my heart with such force that it takes me by surprise.
There is no hesitation or gentle and uncertain stream of certainty.
This knowing is more like a river breaking through a dam.
I would stay. Just one word, and I would happily remain here and never return home.
This realm is far from home—and perhaps a bit too remote and isolated, even for me, which may require some discussion about any restrictions he may have on his freedom and mobility—and I may even miss some members of my family from time to time, but having this magic every day is worth it. Having Jak is worth it.
The tree branches overhead tinkle with the wind, and suddenly Jak’s wing extends over my head, blocking the snow that drops from the branches above us.
The snow hits with a muffled sound and rolls off his wing before he withdraws it and gives it a slight flap to dispel any lingering snow before folding it against his back again.
He looks down at me from his greater height, a thoughtful look replacing the one of contentment he wore just moments earlier.
“You are quiet,” he murmurs.
Heat climbs into my cheeks, and I shrug. I feel as awkward as a teenager with her first crush. Damn, I thought I outgrew this years ago. I peer up at the trees, their iced branches pale against the bright blue of a cold winter sky, as I carefully choose my words.
“I am just appreciating the moment,” I reply.
Jak’s white brows rise in surprise, but he tips his head and thinks about it for several heartbeats before nodding his agreement.
“It is a beautiful Yule. The weather has cooperated for once.” His lips suddenly twist with amusement.
“The winter storms in this realm seldom give us any peace. My siblings and I often traipsed through the worst weather hunting for winter berries.”
I chuckle at the mental image his words conjure, and I glance over at him curiously.
“Are you still close with any of your siblings?”
He freezes for a moment before his lips thin in a small grimace.
“Frost demons are very territorial. While we freely travel from our territory to other realms to socialize with other demons, and even welcome other races we may encounter crossing through our own icy realm, we do not tolerate each other’s company very well after reaching maturity. ”
“Oh,” I murmur. Though I am relieved to hear that they aren’t bound permanently in isolation here, the lack of lasting familial structure makes me feel sad for him. Conversely, I am also a little envious that he is spared from the constant drama I endure. “Don’t you ever get lonely?”
Okay, maybe I’m fishing a little now. I just need some indication that he also wants this to continue.
He doesn’t answer right away. What is worse is that his expression is now completely unreadable as he considers my question. He looks cool and remote, like a lonely prince walking alone within his kingdom, his pale blue eyes skimming over our surroundings in silence.
“I am not human,” he says at last, as if that explains everything.
My heart plummets. He is not human. It’s a gentle reminder that he doesn’t feel things the same way I do. Crap. I need to recover things fast before I embarrass myself further by breaking into tears in the middle of the woods. I force a laugh, and his eyes snap to me in surprise.
“Of course not,” I reply. “I don’t expect anything.”
His eyes slowly blink, but I am distracted by something glowing crimson just over his shoulder.
Red berries. Magic, glowing red berries swirling with light hang from the evergreen bushes.
The plant itself reminds me a little of juniper, but the berries themselves are out of this world.
They remind me of tiny red lights on a Christmas tree.
Happy, jolly, beckoning me to them with their cheerful glow.
“Jak... are those—” I whisper and he turns his head to peer in that same direction.
A satisfied smile curls his mouth, and his horns dip in a small arch as he nods. “Winter berries.”
My lips part and I gape at the berries in awe as I stumble through the snow toward them.
I am conscious of Jak’s presence close behind me as he follows, but for some reason that awareness feels distant.
All I feel is the beckoning warmth of those little berries.
My throat tightens with a parched feeling as if I haven’t tasted a single dewy drop of moisture, and my tongue feels thick in my mouth like a piece of dried-up shoe leather.
Whatever magic these berries hold, it seems that I am entirely susceptible to it as I stumble again and fall to my knees in front of the bushes.
I scramble forward through the snow, reaching for them, desperate for the sweetness that they promise.
“Careful,” Jak cautions as he catches my wrist in one elegantly fashioned hand. I look at him in stark betrayal, but his smile is sweet as he returns my regard. “You will burn yourself. Here, watch how it is done.”
Burn myself? I eye him, mystified, as he suddenly removes a pouch from his belt.
He holds it with one hand while his opposite hand reaches for the berries and pinches them off high on their stem, removing the entire cluster along with several leaves.
He gives it only the briefest glance before placing the entire bunch into the pouch and reaching for the next cluster.
My fingers itch to help him, but I hang back and watch in fascination as the berries glow brighter just before he pinches them.
They flame like mini-infernos, and their glow doesn’t dim in the least until just before he drops them into the bag.
It looks simple enough. Nodding to myself, I remove my glove to reach for another thick cluster.
I place my hand back on the stem and mimic the same snapping motion he used.
The cold stem doesn’t even budge. I frown down at it and adjust my grip only to be pricked by a long, sharp thorn.
Cursing, I yank my hand away and direct an affronted glower at the male chuckling beside me.
“Apologies, Shawna. I did not think. Allow me,” he murmurs.
His hand slides against mine as he grips the cluster and deftly snaps it off with his long fingers.
I frown at them in frustration, and he makes a slightly choked sound as he stifles another chuckle.
I peer at his hand and then down at my own, and my own lips twist wryly.
His pale hands are not only significantly larger but clearly more powerful.
I wouldn’t have imagined a slender stem to be so hard to break, but it’s a reminder that I’m in another world with its own rules.
Rules that I will have to accept and live with if I remain.
I try not to be embarrassed at how obviously useless I am at the moment.
“I guess I’m not going to be of much help,” I reply with a wry smile.