Page 92 of A Bride for the Winter King
A heavy breath frosts in front of him as he glances up at the crooked branches of the Hawthorn. Moonlight reflects off his bare chest, licking the curves of his muscles.
I scurry behind Elio, the fresh snow sinking under my footsteps. His gaze darts to Iris’s glass coffin before he extends an arm to the tree above.
The stem of a ripe frost apple ices over and detaches from the closest branch, falling straight into his hand. Shadows drape over his face as he extends the rare, precious fruit in my direction. “Here.”
I shake my head. “Your curse made me look just like Iris for a reason. I will help you unravel it.”
He walks over to me and tucks the frost apple in my hand. “I think the curse made you to punish me. To remind me that, no matter how many women I marry to appease the Gods—no matter how many of them I lose—my worst mistake will haunt me for all eternity.” Elio guides my other hand over the shiny blue apple and presses my fingers closed around the sacred fruit. “Forget about me, little spider. Take the apple, heal yourself, and go live a long, happy life—away from the ice.”
My chest shrinks, the single most coveted treasure in Faerie heavy in my grip. “You don’t even want to try and break the curse?”
Elio presses his lips together. His fists curl and uncurl at his sides before the Winter King stands an inch taller. All the warmth drains from his cold, sharp features until he no longer looks like a man—but a cruel, impatient reaper. “You think I haven’t tried? You think I just checked out at the first sign of trouble and let those girls die on my watch?”
“Of course not!”
“Olena died first. She was a Red with advanced weapon training, and when she stabbed herself to escape my company, I figured maybe it was my fault. Maybe I was indeed too cold for any woman to endure my presence. The next year, Deirdre started talking to herself as she wandered off on long walks to alleviate the homesickness. She fell straight through the ice ofthe lake and drowned even though it was twenty inches thick. That’s when I knew winter would claim them all, no matter what. I spent the next two decades after that in a constant state of panic, following them around from dawn to dusk to catch whatever dark force was after them, but the more I tried to help, the more resources I dedicated to their safety—the quicker they died. One after the other, forfiftyyears. So don’t you dare?—”
His chest rises and falls, his fury burning out like a falling star. “The curse only prevents me fromlovingthem. It shouldn’tkillthem, but ice breaks them because that’s what ice does.” He gazes off into the distance. “Why did you really come here, Lori?” he asks quietly.
My forehead creases. “I told you. I came to find Morrigan.”
“You’re lying.” His hollow smile grates my insides, the walls around his heart thickening by the second. “And that’s okay. Why not lie when you know you can get away with it? Given the opportunity, I’d probably do it, too.” Elio’s bitter, melodic chuckle sparks a fire in my stomach. “I know all about secrets, believe me. I’ve been keeping one for decades.”
“I came to save my brother,” I admit, the words flying out without nuance or pause, my soul a little lighter for it. “He’s been rotting in a Spring prison for months, and Seth promised to save him from being hanged if I joined the pageant.”
Elio’s next line dies on his parted lips, and his anger evaporates. His blue gaze slips to the side, as if searching for the right words—perhaps summoning the courage to speak them.
“To answer your previous question, I did it. I killed Iris.”
My mouth opens and closes, my mind silently praying for context. An explanation. A reason. Anything to soften the blow of the revelation.
The frozen glint in his eyes and the dire clench of his jaw don’t offer any mitigating circumstance. “You’ve done a great job of running from death all your life, and I’m going to beg you todo the same now. I’d give anything to rewrite the past, but I don’t deserve a second chance. I killed Iris, and if you stay, my ice will kill you, too. Do you understand?”
I nod once. Twice.
My silly fantasies crumble to ashes.
I’ve made my bed where Elio’s concerned. Allowed him to skew my emotions and let myself forget who he was.
I’ve always known he was the King of Death.
Chapter 37
Elori
LORI
Ink glimmers over the skin of my lower arm, the Fae runes meant to take me home a little blotchy because of my shaky hands. My mask is firmly planted over my eyes and prevents me from wiping off the cluster of dried, salty tears stuck in my eyelashes.
The frosty sting of the sceawere barely registers as I step out of the mirror. My entire body is numb after my conversation with Elio. The secret, half-formed hopes I’d begun to nurture are gone, and the hole left in their place created a raw ache in my ribcage.
The bite in my side sends a fresh flare of pain through my body as I walk to the desk in the middle of the Shadow Court’s library.
This is where I belong, I tell myself, but the beauty of yellow, red, and teal hues streaming through the stained medallion window pales in comparison to the glittering lights of the ice gardens. The prospect of advising the High Fae on their next read and enduring their relentless gossip dulls my brain.
The only silver lining to my defeat is that I’ll see Nell again, but I’m not ready to face my best friend. I not only failed to capture the wicked woman who almost killed us both, but also lost myself in the process.
The apple in my pocket could heal the venom that has been polluting my body, and yet I have no real intention to eat it. Blood fills my ears as her familiar head of white-blonde hair peers between the stacks.
