Page 12 of Jilted By Jack Frost

My foul-mouthed mate.

I dislike her merely on principle. She insists she doesn’t know why she’s here, doesn’t know how shegothere. I do believe her, a rarity for me—no human, especially from that magicless world, could possibly understand how to step into a new realm. She was brought here by magic, or someone or something.

But I need her to leave. The longer she stays, the more at risk my world is.

It was prophesied that her presence, that accepting her into this world, would be the ruination of it as we know it.

Beware the one with earth-bound soul,

Who walks through winter’s sacred gate.

The vessel’s power she’ll control,

And seal the kingdom’s final fate.

When mortal love meets ancient frost,

The old ways crumble into dust.

What ages built shall then be lost,

As power yields to mortal trust.

I suspect that it has something to do with the temperature that rises a little more each day—and the warmth that I felt when Violet first arrived here. The warmth that led me to her, the warmth that has curled around my ice-covered heart since the moment I looked into her eyes.

Unfortunate. Unwanted.

I need her gone. Nothing good will come of her presence. Unfortunately, my will alone is not enough to send her back home. There’s another way—there must be. It’s implausible that Violet might slip into my world but cannot squeeze her back into hers.

I’m too lost in my thoughts, my mind split between concern over sending Violet home and scouring page after page for any mention of how to make that happen, to notice that the strange sense of unnerving heat that Violet has instilled in me has intensified.

I turn my head, eyes narrowed.

And there she is.

It is unfortunate that she must be so beautiful. Worse that she is the one thing in my life that I must deny myself, that I—

I blink, shaking my head and gritting my teeth.Foolish bond. Attempting to bring me nearer to her, and her to me.

“I told you to keep your distance.” I force a frown of distaste on my lips. I refuse to be anything but cold to her. Nothing good can come of warmth, not in this world.

“And I was told that you needed my help.”

“By who.” It’s not a question.

“Gabriel, of course.”

I still for a moment, letting that sink in. Gabriel. I scowl and turn away from Violet, pretending to read while I try to process that. What game is he playing at? My advisor, while he always does what he believes is best, has this keen ability to anger me in ways no one else has managed before.

He has the realm’s best interest at heart, yes, but his faults lie in his ego. He sometimes forgets that his job is merely to advise me—not to act on my behalf.

“He had no right,” I say stiffly. “You may go.”

“Pass,” Violet says simply. “Point me to the books you haven’t gone through yet. We can get twice as much done that way.”

We. That unfortunate, misguided word.

“Wewill do nothing.Youwill go find someone else to pester.”

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