Page 38 of Puck & Her Blades

Still haven’t posted — Gives No Pucks

Are you looking into this case or not? — Gives No Pucks

Where’s my favorite snow bunny? — Gives No Pucks

Are you okay? — Gives No Pucks

WHERE. ARE. U? — Gives No Pucks

I stare at the endless comments.

Then I shudder.

Wow, my very own stalker. Just what I always wanted.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud knock on the cottage door.

I jump.

“Shit.” I shove the laptop to the side.

If that’s Gives No Pucks, then this is the best horror movie setup ever, since I’m in the middle of nowhere in winter beside a frozen lake with an injured ankle.

I’m dead.

“Who is it?” I call out.

Don’t say Gives No Pucks…

“Cygnus,” a gentle voice replies.

I let out a breath of relief, chuckling. “Come in. This is our cottage, remember?”

It makes me feel fuzzy inside to say that. Almost like it’s true.

Cygnus pushes open the door, and he looks as happy to see me, as I am to see him.

He’s smiling and is dressed in the same lilac coat as last night but with an added matching scarf now with silver glinting through it.

Snow dusts his shoulders and long, silky curls. It makes the dyed streaks in his hair glitter, as if with diamonds.

He looks like a snow fae.

He’s clutching a leather-bound book protectively against his chest.

“Morning, treasure.” Cygnus shivers, slamming the door shut behind him. “How did you sleep?”

I try to think how many years it’s been since someone asked me that.

What am I meant to reply?

“Ehm, fine,” I say.

Cygnus arches his brow, giving me a stern look. “Truth and not acting, remember? It’s our Omega pact.”

“Okay, I slept with difficulty because my ankle hurt every time that I turned over, and I’ve been scared that your dad was going to burst in here and beat my ass for messing up on the ice. These jerseys soothed me enough, however, to grab a couple of hours in the early morning.”

Cygnus’ brow furrows with concern, as he strolls to the bed and perches next to me. He presses the ice pack more firmly onto my ankle.

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