Page 17 of Frost
“One day won’t kill me.” He moves his gaze upward as we come to a break in the trees. Beams of moonlight caress his cheeks and dance on his skin. His otherworldly appearance doesn’t seem so out of place in the wintery woods. “But this? It’s my home. Why desire greener pastures when mine’s perfectly green as it is?”
“I understand that, I think.” I tear my eyes from him and follow his gaze upward. “I could’ve gone anywhere after I graduated, but I chose to stay in Bedford.”
“Bedford?” Jack cocks his head in that adorable way.
“My home. But, if I’m being honest, I think I only stayed there because it was close to the one place I truly wanted to be.” I grab his hand. “Right here. With you.”
“You thought I was only a dream.”
“Deep down, I knew the truth.” I slide my fingers through his and step closer, loving the faint whiff of berries and pine coming off him. “My soul knew you even though it took my brain a while to catch up.”
And then, like nearly every other moment when things got too intimate, he pulls away. “We’re almost there. We should keep walking.”
I envision a snowflake, big and beautiful, drifting from the sky. But when I try to catch it on my palm, it melts. That’s how being with Jack feels. I see him. But touching him—holding on to him—is a whole different matter.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just fly us there,” I say, falling into step beside him.
“Walking is nice too.” Jack glances up at the trees. “When you’ve lived as long as me, it’s easy to forget how stunning the world can be. Moments like this, walking through a silent wood and breathing in the crisp air, helps remind me that although I’m immortal, there’s still beauty in life. I believe you mortals say something along the lines of ‘stopping to smell the roses.’ Yet, roses can’t hold a candle to an evergreen covered in snow.” He smiles as he places his hand on the tree beside him. “Trees have long lifespans too. This one here has been around for decades, maybe more. All the mortals who’ve walked past it over the years will eventually leave this life, but this tree will remain standing just as it is now.”
“Just like you,” I say, feeling a knotting in my gut.
Long after I’m old and gray, Jack will look exactly as he does now. I’ll die, and he’ll remain unchanged. Forever.
“Yes.” A sad expression fills his eyes. He turns away from me and keeps walking.
“So.” I catch up to him. “Who’s Págos? And why did you say he might kill me?”
“Because he might.” Jack shrugs. “He doesn’t like most people.”
“Isn’t it kind of… I don’t know, a bad idea to let him meet me, then?” I ask, bewildered by his calm composure. “I’d really like to stay alive, thanks. I’m only twenty-seven.”
Jack snorts a laugh. “I won’t let him actually kill you, Luka. But stay close to me just in case he tries.”
“Well, that’s not reassuring at all.”
Fear twists through me as we leave the enclosure of trees and come to a clearing. The river rushes nearby, but it’s not visible from where we are. Who the hell is Págos? Some kind of monster? An ex-boyfriend? Fuck, what if it’s both? I’m sure Jack’s banged humans and non-humans alike during his long life.
Jack lifts a hand to his mouth and whistles loud and clear, the sound piercing through the quiet woods. And then I hear it, the flapping of wings.
Right above me.
I look up and almost piss myself. Some kind of transparent beast with large wings lands in front of me. At first, it’s hard to see what it is. I see the trees and snow through the weird, clear flesh. What in the actual fuck?
“Atta boy.” Jack strokes the creature’s head. “I have someone I want you to meet. Don’t bite him.”
The beast turns to me and sharply exhales, causing air to fan out from its nostrils like smoke. That’s when I see the outline of a horse.
“Págos is a damn Pegasus?” I ask in shock.
“An ice Pegasus,” Jack corrects me, keeping a hand on the horse’s neck. “He was a gift from my mother when I was just a baby. He’s been with me my whole life.”
The horse stomps toward me, puffing out another visible breath.
“He’s a little protective,” Jack says, petting the animal’s side.
“A little?” Though every muscle in my body is screaming for me to run away, I stand my ground. I refuse to be intimidated by some ice, murderous or not. “If he’s made of ice, how does he fly?”
“Magic.”
