Frost and Death (The Last of the Heirs #1)

39

Predator and Prey

Aslight tug on my shirt wakes me. I ignore it, adjusting my sleeping position. But the tugging of my clothes starts again like I am being nudged. Finally annoyed by the poking sensation, I move to tell Jerrick to let me sleep, only to stop when a hand clasps over my mouth.

“Shh. Don’t move,” Jerrick whispers in a hushed tone.

I barely register what is happening as Jerrick guides my backside to him, his hard length pressing into me as he wraps a protective arm around me. Groaning inwardly, I bite my lip to refrain from moaning.

This is not the time or the place to be thinking about that, Tove.

It doesn’t help when Jerrick pats my body. “Where are your knives?”

I finally open my eyes.

“Fuck,” he says, sounding distraught.

I clench my thighs at the guttural tone, sinful thoughts distracting me, and my nipples tighten in response.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Are we about to—

“I only have one knife on me.” Jerrick hovers over my ear, lips kissing it slightly, making everything much more heightened.

He slips the knife into my hand and my eyebrows knit together.

I peer up at him, only for my blood to run cold at the sound of leaves crunching somewhere nearby. My heart stops as the horse, too, perks its head up from its sleeping position, aware of the sudden shift in the air.

Goose bumps prickle up the length of my spine as I scan the surroundings, terror gripping my heart at the tall mahogany-brown bear meandering near our campsite.

My eyes flick from the beast to the horse and the gear and weapons resting next to it.

Shit.

I look back at the bear carefully. The sunlight reflects against its thick—probably extremely soft—fur, and the red hues draw in the creature’s natural magnificence.

“Use your magic or throw the knife at it,” Jerrick whispers.

“Are you insane? I can’t do that!” I hiss.

I don’t want to harm anything or anyone.

Jerrick’s mouth lingers near my ear again, his body warming mine, holding my hip. “You can. You have the closer shot. Besides, we came here to hunt and train. Think of this as a surprise lesson.”

I fucking hate surprises.

The horse’s ears dip backward, aware of the threatening presence. The steed shakes its head, unable to move much from being tied to the tree stump.

I freeze in place, panic on the verge of escaping me as the bear sniffs the ground, coming more into view with its head crowned with a tree-branch halo. It is as if Leander, the Maker of Beasts himself, is walking amongst us. His god-like powers are contained in this behemoth of a creature that reigns over the forests of Draymenk.

Fucking Deities, I am going to die today.

“Wh-What about your magic?” I mumble quietly, still gaping at the bear.

“My magic doesn’t kill animals. They have to be severely wounded before I can do anything.”

Every step the bear takes is inches closer to me—its meal. “Y-You can’t expect me to do this when a predator is mere feet away from EATING me!

He lowers his mouth to my nape, kissing it softly as his hand rests on my hip and squeezes. Hard. “You need to practice all aspects of your training in stressful situations, and this is the perfect opportunity. Just try.”

I tighten my fingers around the hilt, shaking my head in silent objection. “What if I miss?”

My motion rustles the leaves underneath the blanket, and Jerrick’s grip moves from my hip to my head, stopping me from making more noise.

I stop when his whisper is low, dark, and demanding. “Don’t doubt yourself. Now, do it.”

Jerrick gives me some space, careful to minimize the amount of noise he makes to prevent the horse and bear from reacting.

I look back to the steed still unable to see the predator approaching behind it.

My magic could have more consequences for the surrounding area. I could start another ongoing winter in Thresborn Forest if I use my gifts. Without the guarantee of removing the ice, I choose to use the dagger.

Jerrick squeezes my thigh as I glance at my target, waiting for him to stop before throwing the knife.

“A flick of the wrist. Just like I showed you,” he mouths.

But my aim is terrible.

I know it, and the Makers know it.

I send a prayer to Alora, pleading for this to work and that the bear I am about to attack is not Leander himself.

All I have to do is injure it enough for Jerrick to take over.

I… I can do that.

As the knife touches my shoulder, the bear slows to a stop.

But the horse grunts its unease, and a low grumble responds. The steed staggers, its neighs drawing the beast’s full attention to us.

I go rigid, my lungs and heart stopping when the bear makes eye contact.

A force shifts the dagger from my hand into Jerrick’s, and he uses all his strength in the release of the knife over a longer distance. It launches toward the bear, and my prayer is answered as it inches close enough to strike true.

But the bear shifts, and the knife slashes across its arm.

The beast’s loud roars are deafening as the knife meets the tree beside it, the horse neighing once more, earning another bellow from the beast in challenge and fury.

All I can do is gape in fear, frozen in place.

“Freeze him!” Jerrick screams, needing a distraction to get to his bow.

But I can’t sense my magic.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

Rustling behind drums in my ear as Jerrick jumps up, his movements rapid as he unties the animal from the tree, smacking it on its ass to run.

Jerrick looks between his weapons and me.

The horse neighs again, jumping up on its hind legs and standing taller than the bear.

Jerrick staggers as the steed rotates its front legs in defense when the beast meets the threat. He rushes to my side, pulling me upright as the black horse lands on all fours, running away from the scene.

The world stops as the bear turns on us, growling and ready to devour me.

Jerrick grabs my face, pulling my attention away from the massive predator. “RUN!”

He pushes me ahead, I finally remember to move, running away from the bear with no end goal in mind. All our gear, weapons, and horse abandoned and forgotten.

Darting through trees and branches, I avoid fallen logs, praying to the Makers we don’t run into another creature.

Jerrick’s pace passes mine, and exhaustion tugs at my body as I run. My heart thumps as I scan my surroundings in fear.

Jerrick takes my hand, steering me to the left.

“This way!” he yells, dragging me with him.

I bump into him, almost causing us both to fall. I struggle to keep up with his pace, and like an idiot, I glance behind me to see the bear following closely.

“Jer!” I shout in warning, my feet stumbling underneath me.

We jump over a fallen tree stump as Jerrick drags me along. His hold yanks every few steps, tugging me to keep up with his pace.

“There’s a river up ahead, and we can let the current take us away.”

My heart falls out of my chest.

I cry through ragged gasps. “I can’t swim!”

But the bear’s movements still echo behind us, and I know the lesser of evils will be the river.

The ground beneath us hardens under crumpled dead leaves, dirt, and soot as we near a cliff.

I smell the river before I see it, and the fear of drowning shifts my balance unexpectedly, sending me and Jerrick down.

I hit the rocks, and I hiss in pain with barely any recovery time.

Jerrick bounces up like it is nothing, tugging at my clothes to aid me up.

But I can hardly breathe—let alone move—with fear and exhaustion gripping me.

My tunic loosens from my trousers, the fabric ripping from Jerrick’s strength.

He stops to look behind him, seeing the bear hurrying toward us—fast.

“Come on, Frostbite, we’re almost there.” He pulls me, and I slump, muscles fatigued and pinching in pain.

“I can’t, Jer. The water,” I pant, my voice hoarse and inaudible.

“Hold on to me, and remember to take a deep breath,” Jerrick orders, scooping me into his arms and running to the edge of the cliff.

I scream, my heart flipping as I grip Jerrick in my panic when his footing leaves the ground, and we plummet.

Being airborne is nothing as my lungs inhale of their own accord, knowing what is to come.

Water attacks my skin, and the force of the element takes us by surprise. It pulls us down, and the lower we sink, the colder it gets.

I am pushed and pulled in all directions, and the only hold I have on Jerrick is his hand.

I strain to hold my breath, even when another current crashes against us, the impact forcing us apart.

No.

My movements turn frantic as I flail underwater, seeking the surface or Jerrick. The world weighs down as the push and pull of the river gnaws at me.

It gets colder the more I panic.

My chest aches from exertion and lack of oxygen. A tightness latches onto my sternum, my ribs, and my lungs, caving in as my arms and legs can’t do anything.

A kernel of my magic sways against the pain, trying to be useful, but I am so cold—so tired.

Images of someone’s face dance through my vision as they call my name.

My name. My—nickname. Not Snow Queen but… Frostbite.

I try to speak, but something gurgles, ceasing the action. I feel heavy, almost double my own weight, and I can’t sense a lick of air. No air.

I can’t breathe.

A force pounds down on me. Hard.

Bile rises and caves my chest inward. The pressure from my abdomen lurches my eyes open, and I have no time to stop from rolling over to empty the contents of my stomach.

I heave and sob, still not enough air passing into my lungs. My senses are muddled, the heavy scent of pine makes me need to vomit even more.

A warm sensation touches my back, the soothing heat the only thing I can focus on.

With my stomach emptied, my vision adjusts. Black rims the sides, slowly turning into a blur and then clear images. Solid ground is beneath me, trees line the river in front of me, and summer’s heat blazes against my exhausted body.

My clothing is soaked against my skin, goose bumps prickling in one spot. I turn to my exposed shoulder and the man completely frozen and gazing at me with disbelief.

Jerrick.

We stare dumbstruck at each other.

He scoots closer, touching my arm gently, as if I am not real.

Grief-stricken, my husband sinks to his knees and scoops me into his lap, cradling me close.

“I thought I lost you,” he gasps, his voice thick with emotion.

Jerrick dips his head into the crook of my neck, inhaling long and slow. A shuddered exhale escapes him, and I feel capable of moving.

I hold his neck and close my eyes, fighting the choked sob that builds when his arms flex, hugging me tight. Nuzzling into him, I’m desperate to bury myself in his skin, his bones—anything to have him closer.

Adrenaline, exhaustion, and emotions wrack through me as I shake uncontrollably. Tears fall down my cheeks, soaking Jerrick’s skin.

“Jer,” I croak out.

He threads a hand through my damp hair. “I’m here, Frostbite. I’m here.”

I try to apologize for losing my grip on him. “The water—”

“Shh, I know, I know. I’ve got you now. I am here. It’s all my fault.”

His voice is low and somber.

I hold him, still adamant on apologizing. “It’s mine, though. I didn’t use my magic. I could have—we could have—” I break off, the what-if questions coursing through my mind.

We both almost died, and it’s my fault.

Jerrick pulls away and holds my face in his hands. He brings my forehead to his, the warmth of his body pouring over me. His lips touch my brow before he tilts my gaze to meet his.

The haunted look and pain in his eyes carve a haunting melody in my soul.

“I am so sorry,” he whispers.

I break, unable to stop the unknown from consuming me.

He guides me back to him, and I grip his tunic as I cry.

“I’m sorry, too. For not packing a blanket, for not using my magic, for tripping, for letting go under water, for—”

Each word strains against my vocal chords, my throat dry and scratchy. Even when I want to be dry and warm, I know I won’t be able to with tears flowing and the regret of all my wrongs festering.

“I’m sorry for everything,” I sob, pleading for him to forgive me for that which I cannot voice—that which I desperately seek to fix.

He remains silent as I hyperventilate, caressing the top of my hair as he holds me. With everything coming to a head, I am unable to stop the overwhelming shame from tearing me apart.

My husband sways us as I struggle to control myself.

“You have nothing—and I mean nothing—to be sorry for. Everything is my fault. I am the one that needs to apologize. And I am. I am so sorry, Frostbite. For everything,” he murmurs against my ear and kisses my head.

“I should not have pushed you when we were in danger. I should have listened to you rather than use it as an opportunity to teach. My aim should have been better. I should have been faster, should have grabbed a weapon and protected you. I should have listened when you said you couldn’t swim. Fuck!”

He breaks, and his hold on me tightens.

Jerrick goes quiet, his fingers threading through my hair as he takes another deep, shuddering breath.

My heart sinks to my stomach at his apology, knowing everything he means. I wish I could do the same and confide in him. About Niko, my mother’s mirror—

But if Jerrick knew everything, I don’t know what he would do. He could kill me or help me. If I told him now, he might not see past my initial intent in coming here. And then my efforts to prevent a fight would crumple.

But what if he heard me? Truly heard everything I had to say? He would listen, right?

Hope flutters through my tremors when I break apart from our embrace, his blue eyes holding me captive once more. They flick back and forth between mine, and I am at a loss for words.

I’m too overcome by relief that he is here, that I am here, and that we are alive.

The moment sinks in deeper as I absorb every crevice of his features, constantly admiring him. A fire swelters in my chest, an ache of gratitude and longing for the man in front of me.

I cup his cheek, refusing to remove my gaze as he melts into my palm.

His eyes close slowly, lips grazing the inside of my hand. Heat prickles from his touch, and I can’t stop myself from leaning and drawing our faces near.

Unable to stop the need running through me to thank him, to convey my appreciation, I kiss him.

The warmth of his lips spreads over mine and expands, drifting down and heating my body. I hold his face between my hands as I kiss him softly, tenderly. Sorrow and gratitude pour from me as the kiss deepens, hoping he can sense it—understand it.

Jerrick shifts, gripping my hips tightly.

I mimic the action on his face before ending the kiss and slowly pulling away. When I open my eyes, his are twinkling with mischief.

“Did you just fucking kiss me?”

I snort so loud I cover my mouth, my head rocking up to the sky. Laughter sings between us, remembering when I said the same thing to Jerrick the first time he kissed me.

I play on old memories, teasing him as he had. “It worked, didn’t it?”

A playful smirk graces Jerrick’s lips as he purrs, “I might need you to try it again in case it didn’t.”

I am tempted to do just that as a shiver runs up my spine. My body contorts, and I hate the tension in my limbs.

Jerrick rubs my back, trying to warm me, perking up and scanning the surroundings. “We need to return home. Can you walk?”

I nod and move off him.

He stands and takes my hand, tugging me up as I ask, “Don’t you still need to hunt, though?”

“Yes,” he sighs heavily. “And find my horse and retrieve our weapons. But I think it would be safer if you were back on the castle grounds, especially as the current dragged us closer to home than our campsite.”

“But—” I pause when he lets go of me, immediately losing my balance.

His reflexes save me from slumping onto the dried leaves. “Easy there, I’ve got you.”

I blush.

He always has a way to say he is here for me. He holds my waist, hunching slightly, and I bring my arm around his upper torso to lean on him as we walk.

The thought of not finding our steed tugs at my heart. “I can help find our horse.”

I just plaited its mane.

“I—” Jerrick’s boots crunch against the leaves as he huffs a breath. “I-I can’t have you help me.”

“Why?”

He cringes, and it has me worried I overstepped moments ago. Heat floods my cheeks in embarrassment that I misread his actions and response earlier.

“I can’t risk that,” he admits.

I drop my head in shame. “Oh.”

The burden I am twists and churns in my stomach. I’ve ruined his hunting trip, sent his horse running, and can’t even protect myself enough to help fix my mistake.

He is right. It’s too much of a risk for me to be in the forest with him. If we encounter another predator, who’s to say I won’t freeze up again?

I sink in defeat. I’m a hazard to bring along, and my options are limited to within the castle walls. I can’t believe he is going back out here. Alone.

There are only a few more days left before the masquerade ball, and I know this hunt is important for him. For his curse and for his magic. Guilt eats at me and the lack of progress we’ve made in breaking his curse. I need to be in the library while he is away.

It’s my only hope.

My only chance of doing something right for once.

We stop at a small clearing away from the river, a space surrounded by more trees. I look at Jerrick for him to guide us onward, but he stops, scanning the area before turning to face me.

He takes my face, tilting it to meet his. Wisps of his black hair blow in the breeze, sweat on his brow, and his scar still beautifully sculpting and illuminating his features, making him more striking than I remember from the first time I saw him.

His blue eyes behold mine as he says fervently, “I failed to protect you here. You’ve almost died twice in my company, and I… I can’t risk losing you.” He draws me close for a quick peck faster than I can process.

I blink in surprise when he pulls away with a smirk.

But when he winks, Sweet Makers, I soar.

Jerrick has saved my life twice. Gratitude warms my heart immensely, sending it skipping. Holding his gaze, I can’t stop my own bashful smile.

“Would it be alright if I used my gifts to help warm the two of us?” he asks.

I am soaked to the bone and have water in my boots that slush and sway with each step. I huff a breath of relief.

“Thank Yeva. I thought you’d never ask.”

Jerrick chuckles low, drawing me in.

“Stay close,” he murmurs into my hair, guiding us in a new direction.

The sun rises as we hold each other, our clothes going from soaked to damp as heat lifts from the ground. We scan the surroundings often, aware of any new noises. Whether we are looking out for a bear, our horse, or a break in the forest’s tree line, we remain close.

Jerrick’s power warms my entire body, mind, and soul. His magic no longer feels foreign to me, rather, it is comforting and calls to my own. The dynamic is balanced, peaceful, and harmonious.

We pass occasional glances, catching and bashfully darting our stares away while leaning closer as each step we take leads us home.