“Too soon to say,” I grumbled, swigging back half of the amber liquor.
Finneas tilted his head and pushed back, his gaze roaming my tattoo and hair. “It’s not normally well-mannered to ask such things, but I get the feeling you’re the type who doesn’t care about all that. What exactly are you? I can’t get a good read on you.”
Finishing the drink, I tapped the glass. “Give me another one of those and I’ll tell you.”
“Deal,” Finneas said, barking a hearty laugh.
I chomped on an ice cube as I scanned the pub. Several pairs of eyes kept glancing at me, some making it more evident than others, and salacious whispers to each other followed.
“Here you are.” Finneas returned with a glass now filled to the brim, and he somehow sparked a grin from me at that.
Raising it in a cheerful gesture, I took a sip. “I’m Jack Frost.ThatJack Frost.”
Finneas’ eyes widened, and he looked about three seconds away from “fangirling.” It wouldn’t be the first time, and I winced in preparation. “No shit. I know I’m a minotaur, and I know I live in Arcane Cove, but I seriously thought you were atruefairy tale.”
“Nope. I’m as real as the Tooth Fairy.” Smirking, I guzzled more whiskey. “But my winter palace is in a different celestialplane. It takes me to different realms every solstice. This was the first time it brought mehere.”
Finneas nodded before a sudden bout of excitement had him bouncing like an adolescent girl. “Was it because of Sylvie?” He gasped. “She’s a winter faerie, you’re winter itself. Oh my—it’s so perfect.” Finneas pointed a shaking finger at me. “They’d call you twoJackie.”
Eyeing him like snakes were sprouting from his head, I tightened my grip on my tumbler. “Jackie? What? Look, look, I’m still exploring things. I don’t know for sure.”
Finneas frowned, absolutely deflated. “What’s wrong? You don’t like her?”
“I don’thateher,” I muttered, shoving my nose in the tumbler before I said much else.
A slender beige hand slipped over my shoulder, causing my attention to shift behind me. A woman with straight black hair to her hips, dark, deep-set eyes, and nine furry white fox tails sprouting from her back stood there grinning at me. “You’re new.”
“I am,” I started, my words coming out hesitant, and I gave Finneas the side eye.
“Duri,” Finneas warned. “He won’t be part of your thousand livers.”
Arching a brow, I alarmedly mouthed the word “liver” to Finneas.
Duri sulked, hunching her shoulders forward. “But it’s so much easier than hiding myself around a human for a hundred days.”
“Have you tried venturing out of the Cove lately?” Finneas leaned on the bar, positioning himself between me and the curious female.
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’llventuresomewhere tomorrow. But I’ll get to tell you I told you so when it doesn’t work out again.”
“I can handle that,” Finneas replied, his broad nose snorting when the woman, tails and all, turned to leave. “She’s a kumiho.”
“Can’t say I’ve heard of that one.” I stared at the door as she exited.
“Just like not everyone knows you’re real.” Finneas chuckled, his horns bouncing. “You want another?” He pointed at my glass.
“Please.” Handing it to him, I remained transfixed.
Usually, a woman’s hand on me would spark the charm and flirtation through me. But when this kumiho touched me, I grew agitated. If this hadn’t been enough of a sign, I wasn’t sure what else fate could throw in my lap. If I wanted to have a chance at this, I needed togiveit one.
Nothing wasas healing for the soul as keeping busy when your mind reeled a million miles per second. For me, that meant throwing myself into my baking—lots and lots of baking.Sweater Weatherby The Neighbourhood blasted from my phone as I cut up prunes, dates, cranberries, and apricots. Coarsely chopped walnuts were roasting in the oven, and their earthy aroma filled the space. I threw all ingredients into a food processor along with cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and salt. Once done, I formed the mixture into one-inch balls and placed them on parchment paper when they were the perfect size.
I’d been so hyperfocused on what I was doing that the bell chime hadn’t fully registered despite hearing it faintly in the background.
“Sylvie,” a female voice said. “Sylvie,” they yelled louder.
Jerking to attention, I paused with a ball between two fingers and spun on my heel to face the counter. My best friend, Aella, stood there wide-eyed with her arms at her sides.
“You didn’t hear the bell? Or me calling your name three times?” Her brown ringlet hair bounced when she flopped onto her heels.
