Page 24 of Jilted By Jack Frost

“Fuck,” I gasp, pushing away from him. My legs wobble as I try to find my balance. “That was... intense.”

He turns away, magic swirling around him as the rest of his clothing materializes. “You shouldn’t leave the castle without protection.”

“I had protection. You were there.”

“I won’t always be.” His words carry a weight I don’t want to examine too closely.

“So what, I’m supposed to stay locked up in here?”

“Until we find a way to send you home, yes.”

“I need a drink.” I head toward the kitchen, knowing there’s always wine available.

Jack’s footsteps echo behind me. “You should rest.”

“What Ineedis alcohol and answers.” I grab two glasses and a bottle of ice wine. “You’re joining me.”

His jaw tightens. “Violet—”

“You just saved my life. The least you can do is have a drink with me.”

To my surprise, he follows me to the small table near the kitchen hearth. I pour us each a generous glass, noting how his fingers brush mine when he accepts his. I watch Jack’s broad shoulders tense as he stands, glass untouched. He walks to the cupboard and starts pulling out items, muttering under his breath.

“What are you doing?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink.

“You haven’t eaten.” His voice is gruff as he sorts through various jars and packages. “The last thing I saw you consume was those cookies this morning.”

“Are you keeping track of my meals now?”

He pauses, then pulls out dried berries and what looks like honey. “I notice things. You prefer sweet over savory.”

My chest feels warm, and it’s not from the alcohol. The fact that he’s been paying attention to what I like catches me off guard.

“Here.” He sets a small wooden bowl in front of me, filled with the berries drizzled with golden honey. “This should suit your tastes.”

“Thanks,” I say, popping a berry into my mouth. The sweetness bursts across my tongue, better than any dried fruit I’ve had before. “Holy shit, these are good.”

A ghost of a smile crosses his face before he sits back down, finally picking up his drink.

“So,” I take a long sip, “how did you become... whatever you are?”

Jack stares into his wine. “I wasn’t always Winter’s vessel.”

“No?”

“I was human once. A very long time ago.” His voice grows distant. “There was a particularly harsh winter. My village was dying. I made a bargain with Winter itself to save them.”

The wine suddenly tastes bitter. “What kind of bargain?”

“My humanity for their survival.” He takes a drink. “I became this—Winter incarnate. The village lived, but I could never return. My presence would have frozen them all.”

Shit. “That’s... actually really noble.”

His eyes meet mine, surprise flickering across his features. “Most find it foolish.”

“Well, most people are assholes.” I lean forward. “You sacrificed everything to save others. That’s not foolish, that’s brave.”

Something shifts in his expression. “And you? What drives you to heal others?”

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