Without thinking I rush at the opening, my legs wobbly but my magic burning inside.
I shot him out of the cabin. I’m going to find him and finish this.
Jumping off a mountain is always a rush. Before Father died, I did it often enough, training myself to hone my ice powers when my parents didn't have the time. My body aches as I flatten my hands to my sides, shooting through the air down toward the man falling below.
He's not floundering in the air, which irritates me all over again. Instead, he’s falling almost... leisurely. The destroyed framing from the cabin and bits of ice, snow, rock and dead trees fall with us. He's not focused on the ground at all, peering up at me instead of watching us skydive.
Cocky son of a bitch.
Growling, I bring my hands around to create a ball of ice. Against the rushing wind, it’s a bit of a struggle, and my magic wars with me as I focus on him.
Roaring, I win the battle, launching the ice toward him. He holds his hands out in my direction, and as we tumble the ball splits apart with no effort at all. I gasp, watching the two halves tumble away from us.
“I’m not the enemy, Neve!”
Then why was I bleeding when I woke? The speck of blood barely bothers me, but it doesn’t sit right with me either. Nothing should have happened to make me bleed if I really was asleep. And what business did the stranger have visiting me while I was unconscious anyway? My mother would never allow that.
There’s no time to think about it as the ground races toward us. He’s still not watching, and if he doesn’t want to look death in the eye, maybe I’ll speed his up.
My hands glow pale blue as the magic builds, and I throw two long, thick icicles his way. The pointed ends launch toward Ban and it’s the last attack I manage before turning my attention to the ground, shooting a wave of ice from my fingertips.
I’ll need to create a slide or ramp to break my fall. That's what used to work in the past.
I almost miss the way Ban phases out of existence, a dark shroud appearing from nowhere as he disappears. It’s distracting, throwing off my focus enough that my aim wavers.
I slam into the ground, which wrenches a scream from me, popping my shoulder out of place. I have enough sense about me to use my powers to help break the rest of my fall as I slide to safety, but ice is unforgiving. The pain rolls through my shoulder as I slide to a stop.
Dammit, I don't know how he did that; I've never seen magic like that before. My ice completely missed him yet he was right in the target line.
I force myself to my feet, my magic waning as I spin around madly in a circle. I thought the curse Ban received gave him winter magic, nothing to do with shadows or darkness.
He appears a moment later, his lips pulled into a severe frown. “You have good aim, Your Majesty.”
Sneering, I hold out my hand to strike at him once more. It takes a moment to realize I’m shaking, and I tighten my hand into a fist.
This is not how I envisioned besting the man who killed my father.
Ban tilts his head, and damn it all, he’s even prettier to look at with his long, sweeping white hair. My mind can’t decide if I should hate him fully, admire his good looks, or give into exhaustion and crumble to the ground. Everything is blurring together, making reason abandon me.
“You believe I’m the monster because of the narrative your mother wove,” he says carefully, blue eyes shining as he watches me. In the distance the sun is getting ready to set, the sky turning a light shade of purple. “You should look at what’s happened before blaming me.”
“You spew lies,” I hiss, unwilling to believe him. I expected to wake up and see my mother and perhaps the palace guards, not a barren cabin and the North Mountain spreading all around me.
He raises a brow, holding up his hands. One pulses with snowflakes that swirl across his palm, the other has wisps of that black haze from earlier.
My eyes widen as I notice the scars on his forearms. They are peculiar markings: a diamond shape carved into each of his arms near the elbow. I’ve seen scars like that someplace before but where escapes me at this moment.
“Return to the palace,” he says, tilting his chin. “The life you once knew is over, Neve. A hundred years have changed the Frostlands into something new. Any and all allies you once knew are long gone, save your mother. This is the future she sewed.”
That doesn’t make any sense at all. “I will return to my kingdom, traitor. And unless you want to come with me willingly, I’ll hunt you down.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up, and I swear, he’s smirking at me. “I’ll come to the palace when you know the truth, Ice Queen. Not before.”
Hissing, I throw my hand wide and send out a group of icicles, all of which he deflects with the hand that has the black magic.
Don’t fucking ask. Don’t you dare humor him.
Breathing heavily, I lift my chin high and bare my teeth at him. I have no idea whether I can actually intimidate this man or not, but I’m going to do my damnedest to try. When I’m not bedraggled and trying to get my bearings.
