Page 69 of A Bride for the Winter King
Her lips purse in a grimace. “And the reapers? Do they die naturally, or are they wired more like you?”
“Reapers give up their lives and souls to the cause. Within the limits of the Ice City, the oldest of them have lost everything that made them human. They’re not meant to be seen by the living and become mere skeletons that grind the days away until they crumble to dust.” I press my lips together for a moment before adding, “I’ll turn into an ugly skeleton, too, at some point. It’s already started.” I graze the snow-flecked blue freckles near my collarbone to show off the first signs of my transformation.
“You’ve got snowflakes on your neck. I’d hardly call that ugly.” She swims forward to the shallows, and I follow her gaze to the distinctive freckles.
“My skin is changing. Eventually, I’ll start losing my hair.”
She extends a hand toward my wet blond hair. My breath catches in my throat as she hooks her finger around one lock. “Not that hair?” Her other hand rests near my right thigh, her perfect body still submerged in the water, and my dick stirs.
“Of all the things we’ve discussed, the idea of me bald is what shocks you?” My chuckle comes out darker than I’d intended, and I smooth it over with a hint of a smile.
“You’ve got great hair.” She combs it back behind my ear, and I blink, taken aback by the ease and warmth of the gesture.
“You’re half Fae, then?”
Her lips purse in the semblance of a grimace, but it quickly vanishes in favor of a careful, neutral expression. “How do you figure that?”
“You seem to know more about Faerie than most of the other brides.” I watch her reaction, still wondering exactly how Seth stumbled upon a Shadow seed that looks exactly like my dead wife.
I can’t explain why Lori looks the way she does, and it would be naive to let my guard down until I understand the reason.
“My grandmother was Fae,” she admits.
I arch a brow, wondering if I can trust anything she tells me. “A Shadow Fae?”
“A Spring Fae, actually.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mum was a Spring seed. My father…was normal.” Her gaze darts to the side.
I know grief like the back of my hand, and while most of my peers would apologize for bringing up her dead parents, the fact that she suffered such a great loss at her age actually makes me feel closer to her.
It also explains her visceral reaction to some of my comments.
“Were you very young when they died?”
“Too young, but I managed,” she says, her voice tinged with quiet sadness. “The worst part was being separated from my brother by the new world’s deranged foster system. For years, I was alone.”
“I’ve been alone since I inherited the Winter crown,” I reply, my voice carrying a deep sense of resignation.
She nods slowly. “In death, we are alone.”
If I didn’t know Iris’s entire family tree, I might be tempted to delve into Lori’s parentage, but the downward curve of hermouth and the coldness creeping into my heart compel me to change the subject.
Who cares if she’s a long-lost blood relative of Iris? It wouldn’t change anything.
“Would you come with me? If I collected your soul myself? Or would you try and cheat death, little spider?” I croak, dipping my head down.
Our noses bump, and she cups my cheek as if she's about to kiss me. Yet, at the last possible second, she pulls away, submerging herself up to her chin in the pool. “I’d run from you. As fast as I possibly could.”
Water glides down my shoulders as I lean forward. “I’d chase you.”
“I’m fast.” Her raincloud eyes shine in the dark. “Maybe even faster than you.”
The defiance in her voice shivers through me.Oh…fuck it.
I dash forward to grip her arm, but she slinks away from me, retreating toward the center of the basin. My hand grasps at air, my brows pulling together at the speed with which she moved.
