Page 27 of The Enchanted Frost

I looked up at him, my heart swelling with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name. The gesture was simple, yet it meant more to me than I could express. He had seen my loneliness, felt it as deeply as I did, and without needing to hear the words had chosen to ease it in the only way he knew how. It was a kindness I hadn’t expected, a sign that he understood me more than I’d realized.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion as my fingers curled into the frosty strands of the animal’s fur. The little creature nuzzled against me again, its icy fur somehow comforting despite its cold nature. “It’s perfect.”

Frost’s lips curved into a faint smile, but I could see the hint of something deeper in his eyes—a concern along with a quiet resignation. I realized that creating this companion for me might have come at a cost, that in choosing to comfort me he was willing to further risk unsettling the balance he’d fought so hard to maintain. Yet he had done it regardless, a proof of how deeply he cared that I hadn’t expected.

As the ice creature curled up beside me, I felt a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature. Frost had given me a gift, not just of companionship but of understanding, one made more special when it reminded me of the one who’d created it, the most precious thing to me of anything in this frozen world.

I burrowed my fingers in its soft fur. “Can I bring it with me after you gather my soul?”

Though I meant the question innocently, he flinched at the unwanted reminder of his duty that we did our best to keep unspoken between us. “I’ve collected countless souls over my existence, yet I myself don’t know what lies beyond.” His gaze sought the vast view of the sky outside, as if trying to see beyond to discover the answer to this unknown mystery.

The shift in mood served as an unwanted reminder to thetruths I’d been doing my best to forget. Though I welcomed his touching gift, a small part of me couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. His creation of a companion to fill the void in my heart was a tangible reminder of the inevitable expiration date hanging over our tentative relationship. Our time together was nothing more than a fleeting dream that would eventually come to an unwanted end, a reminder that mortals and immortal beings could never truly be together…an unspoken desire I was slowly starting to recognize filling my heart.

Seeing the subtle yet undeniable signs of spring slowly consuming his realm, I couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at me at the fact that my presence was bringing unnatural changes to a season that had remained constant since the dawn of time. I knew I couldn’t be selfish enough to disrupt everything that made him who he was, let alone risk the fate of the entire world.

My exploration of the castle had revealed glimpses of his eternity, an existence shaped long before we met and one that would continue long after I was gone. A being with infinite time and endless forevers had no need for a relationship with a mortal woman who was only just beginning to understand what it meant to truly live and love.

I needed to cherish the portion of his existence where he had made room for me. He had given me something precious—a companion born from his magic, an act that showed how deeply he understood me. Even more precious, he had shown me care, consideration, and true friendship, a priceless gift to end my years of emotional starvation with days of knowing that I was seen and even cherished. Now I wanted to do something for him in return, not just out of gratitude but because I wanted to cheer him up in the same way he’d comforted me. But what could I offer a being who had lived forever and seemed to possess everything?

“Is there anything that you want?” I asked hesitantly, unsure if my simple question could even reach the depths of someone as timeless as him.

“My gift was given without condition of needing to receive something in return.” He paused, considering my words. “Actually, there is something—I want to get to know you better.”

I blinked, surprised by his response. I had seen his vast library, filled with the collected knowledge of the countless souls he had taken over the ages. “Haven’t you experienced enough human lifetimes?”

He shook his head slightly, a soft smile playing on his lips. “While their knowledge has become a part of me, there’s a difference between observing and experiencing something firsthand. Not to mention all of those souls have one thing in common—they’re notyours. There’s something different about you, something unexplored that I want to better understand.”

My heart fluttered with a joy so pure it almost hurt. Did this mean he felt the same curiosity that had guided my exploration through his castle, the same yearning to know more about him? The possibility that he wanted to know me as desperately as I longed to discover more about him filled me with unexpected warmth, a hope that perhaps, despite everything, there might be a future for us after all.

CHAPTER 13

The cozy corner of Frost’s ice castle was bathed in the gentle glow of the firelight, a welcome contrast to the cold, crystalline grandeur surrounding us. It felt like a small haven, a pocket of warmth amidst the endless winter—a place where, for just a little while, I could bring a piece of my past and experience a sense of tranquility that had been absent for so long.

The scent of mint and chocolate filled the air as I stood with Frost beside the small hearth we had been able to prepare with magic in the cold palace; the golden flames crackled, dancing against the glimmering walls. The heat from the hearth created a delicate balance with the ever-present chill of the castle, one that mirrored the fragile state of our deepening relationship.

Frost stood nearby, his expression inscrutable save for the subtle flicker of curiosity as I arranged the ingredients. Our fingers brushed as I handed him a mixing bowl carved from ice, sending a soft jolt of warmth through me, the coldness of the bowl a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from where our skin touched.

I held up a small canister of cocoa powder. “Mint hot cocoa and gingerbread were always my favorite winter treats. My governess used to prepare them for me on the coldest days.” I felt a pang of nostalgia as I spoke, along with a sense of sadness that the one person who had shown me moments of kindness had been paid to do so rather than genuinely caring about me.

My plans to share this portion of my past extended beyond yearning to express my gratitude. Though he’d witnessed my memories, I wanted to add brushstrokes of my thoughts and feelings to the otherwise colorless facts, filling them in one by one so he could learn to know me on a deeper level…as well as show him that that even in the sorrow and pain of mortality, there were moments of joy and meaning.

I couldn’t explain this growing need when my life would be only one of the infinite souls he’d gathered throughout his time as the king of winter; I only knew that I wanted to be remembered by him forever, a longing deeper than I could put into words.

His eyes lit up with a spark of interest. “You mean there was something about winter you loved?”

“They brought comfort. When everything else felt too harsh, these treats made the cold more bearable.” I knew this portion of my past wouldn’t erase the aching loneliness he’d endured over his eternity, but hoped it might give him a flicker of warmth to carry with him, long after my soul passed on.

A hint of a smile tugged on his mouth, as if he was pleased I’d found something in his season to bring me joy. Though his gaze softened as he looked at me, his brow furrowed as he mulled over my words. “Comfort,” he echoed, as if the word itself was foreign to him.

Fitting as the word was to describe this moment, itsomehow seemed inadequate for the emotions swelling inside me. I shook my head to dispel the errant thought and offered him an ice-carved whisk, the frosty handle no longer cold to the touch but now familiar and comfortable against my skin.

At my touch small tendrils of frost swirled from my palm, twining along the handle. The frost responded to my touch instinctively now, as if it were part of me.

Frost froze, his eyes widening in both surprise and fascination. “That’s new,” he murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

My heart pounded, unsure how to explain what was happening. “It started yesterday.” I ran my hand along the frost-covered surface of the table, watching in awe as the icy tendrils curled beneath my fingers, extending and shimmering like winter's own breath. “Every time I touch something cold, it reacts to me.” I lifted my hand from the table and watched the frost swirl and dissipate.

Frost stepped closer, his gaze locked on my hand. “Magic should be impossible for mortals to wield on their own. You’ve never experienced anything like this before?” His voice was low, tinged with disbelief.

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