Page 172 of Frost and Death
The bright and cocky king is gone, the moody and cursed man has vanished—but the broken and tortured soul of Jerrick stares back.
I release a long breath, taking in this man and knowing so much of our lives has been dictated and planned by our parents and by our bloodlines. But our experiences have brought us together for a reason, and I believe we are meant to bring healing to the two of us and our kingdoms.
That thought deepens my need to call off the fight and help break his curse.
I smile softly, my expression softening as I admire the beautifully complex person he is, inside and out. “Thank you, Jer.”
Relief blossoms across his face and relaxes his body.
He returns a kind smile as I add, “I haven’t had that happen in a long time.”
Jerrick’s eyes widen. “T-This has happened before?”
I nod sheepishly. “A few times since my family passed.”
He regards me, brows pinched together as if he is restraining himself from something. But he takes my hand, rubbing it softly as I lower my own from his face.
I watch his fingers run circles along my hand, the repetitive motion soft, comforting, and distracting.
Knowing he might be one of the few people to understand my grief, I confess, “I relive my sister’s death in my dreams, and sometimes, I think my subconscious tries to win over and take me back to her and my parents.”
His hold on my hand tightens briefly before he recovers, returning to the soft circles. “That must be pretty awful.”
I peek up through my eyelashes to offer him a tight-lipped smile. “It can be.”
My attempt at lessening the gravity of my sleepwalking is caught, Jerrick meeting my eyes and lifting his lips. Warmth spreads across my chest at him being here and the little glimpse of his dimple.
But it vanishes as Jerrick takes a small step back. “Now that I have checked on you, I’ll leave you to your slumber.” He bows, turning for the door.
“Wait,” I call.
Jerrick freezes midstep, meeting my gaze.
“Could—could you stay with me for a bit?” I ask, my bravery immediately leaving my body.
I brace for rejection and hold my arm, rubbing up and down to comfort myself.
Instead of speaking, Jerrick walks to the bed, lowering onto the mattress and patting the opposite end.
I hum and join him as he settles himself above the bedding. Pushing up on my toes, I climb into my side of the bed and pull the sheets over my torso. I lean on my side to face him, and he follows suit.
A chill drifts up my body as we stare at one another, and I shiver, trying to rub my arm as Jerrick reaches across. “Are you cold?”
I dip my head.
He adjusts his position, scooting closer and guiding my hands to his mouth, blowing on them to warm them.
Heat blooms in my core from his lips touching my fingertips, the cold within me melting away.
I bite my lip as he looks up through his eyelashes. “Feeling warmer, Frostbite?”
I nod, breathless at the sight of him.
He releases my hand, allowing me to grab the covers and pull them up higher to shield myself. I fidget underneath the blankets at our closeness, my blood heating my cheeks the more he stares.
He gestures to the covers. “May I?”
Words still won’t form, so I nod again.
