“At least we know no one else has found the blossom yet,” Lore said dryly as we left the meadow and strode onto another path.
“One frostwilla blossom left, but where is it?” I asked, studying the landscape but not seeing a blossom like the one she’d held.
“We’ll find it.”
A scream echoed from our right, the sound jolting through me.
About the dragon,Lore said as we slowed to study each garden we passed.
I’m listening.
We stepped carefully, our boots crunching on the slick surface of the wide, flat stones that wound in a meandering paththrough the frozen garden. They gleamed with shadows trapped beneath their glassy surfaces, shifting silhouettes that moved only when you weren’t looking directly at them.
That dragon saved your life back in the labyrinth when your arm was infected,Lore said.You’d passed out. You were barely breathing. I knew that you were dying, Wildfire. So I begged.His solemn gaze met mine.There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. Anything I wouldn’t give to heal you. I tipped my head back and offered everything as long as you lived. And you did.
Stopping on the winding path, I stood on my toes and stroked his face. Curled my finger to bring his face nearer to mine.
His skin felt cold, but the heat beneath it hummed as steady as a forge. I drew him down until our foreheads touched, stroking my fingertip across the scar on his cheek. His eyes burned into mine with the kind of fire you could fall into and never want to crawl out of.
“You offered everything.” My breath misted between us. “You didn’t tell me.” I’d asked in the labyrinth. He’d evaded answering.
“Losing you isn't a choice I can live with.”
“There should be no secrets between us.”
“I’m sorry. I planned to tell you soon.”
I couldn’t be mad, not when I would do the same thing. Whatever deal he’d made, whatever promise he’d spoken, he’d done it for me.
And I loved him even more for it.
I kissed him, letting it bloom between us. His mouth met mine with a restraint that only made me ache even more. The cold fell away. There was only the shape of him, the taste of him.
He slid his hand along the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his other arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me flush against his chest. I melted into him, let him devour me until his kiss stopped being gentle. Until it turned hungry.
I gasped into his mouth when his teeth grazed my lower lip, and he caught that sound with a low groan that vibrated all the way through me. I tightened my grip on his cloak, and the world around us vanished.
When he lifted his head, the frost around us glittered like stars, embers held in suspension. He stroked his hand up my spine, leaving fire in its wake. The other hand tangled in my hair, holding tight.
“Anything, Wildfire. Everything. For all our days and beyond.”
“Evermore,” I breathed.
“Evermore,” he agreed, stroking my jaw. “My magnificent, stubborn wife. I’ll follow you into fire or through this frost-laden wasteland for one taste of your mouth.”
“I’m not that good a kisser.”
“I get to decide that, and you are. Don’t forget that.”
“Never. In this life or whatever comes after, I'm yours completely.”
Wrapping his hand around my throat, he dragged me close and kissed me hard, putting all his love and desperation into the kiss.
I moaned and pressed against him, wishing we could be anywhere but here, alone and free to do whatever we pleased without the weight of the curse and this wretched world shoving down on us.
When he lifted his head, he stroked away the tightness of his grip on my throat and studied my eyes. Then his fingers slid down my arms to take my hands and squeeze them. “Your hands are freezing, wife.”
“I lost my gloves. You can warm them.”
