As she stood there, a flurry of memories and emotions stirred within her.Echoes of their past affection for one another and betrayal intertwined, creating a tangled web of regret and longing.Crystalia couldn't deny the lingering attraction she still felt for him.It had always been there, hanging like a delicate thread ready to unravel at the slightest touch but she’d been afraid to pull it, fearful of beginning something powerful she had no ability to control.
Brad had been easier.He had no powers, no magical spells, and he hadn’t waited for her permission.He’d simply overwhelmed her, unlocking passionate desires, fanning the flames of a fire Jackson had carefully constructed with precision and patience.It was no wonder he felt cheated, and she could understand why there would be no such courtly considerations now.
Goingto the huge wardrobe she opened the doors.Heavy brass hinges caught the winter light, casting reflections of warped gold on the floorboards as she swung the doors open.
Rows of garments hung in strict formation, shoulders bowed under their own weight, shades of midnight and frost packed tight as secrets.Her hands stroked the fabrics, marveling at the intricacy of the designs and the assortment of styles.
The dressing table displayed a collection of elegant trinkets and ornate containers, each one positioned at perfect angles to one another, revealing Jackson's calculated attention to detail.
Silver-backed brushes and combs gleamed beside an array of crystal vials, their contents catching the winter light in jewel-toned prisms across the frosted glass.
Arranged with military precision, cosmetics in rich, seductive colors stood in stark contrast to the pale surface beneath them, a palette chosen specifically to complement her complexion.How could he possibly know such intimate details about her, especially after all this time?How many times had he been in the background watching her, his sharp mind logging everything away for future use?
With a shiver, Crystalia stepped into the bathroom, her eyes widening at the opulent grandeur that surrounded her.The room was a symphony of white and silver, with intricate ice crystal patterns adorning the walls and sparkling under the soft glow of enchanted sconces.
She could feel the warmth emanating from the heated floor tiles as she crossed over to the crystal basin, marveling at the delicate snowflake designs etched into the surface.As she turned on the tap, the water cascaded out in a crystalline stream, sending a gentle mist of frosted air swirling around her.
The mirror above the sink reflected her image back at her, the near-black locks of her hair a stark contrast against the pristine surroundings.She ran her fingers over the smooth, icy surface, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and excitement bubbling within her.
As she stood another chill passed through her recalling his earlier words.Punish her?The idea sent a strange thrill through her, a mix of fear and something else—something she hadn't felt in a very long time.She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought.This was Jackson, after all, not some stranger.He knew her better than anyone, or at least he used to.
What did he mean by punish?Surely, he wouldn't actually hurt her.No, Jackson was many things, but he wasn't cruel.Still, the idea of being at his mercy, of being subject to his whims, sent a tingle of fear down her spine.She remembered the way he used to look at her, his eyes filled with desire and restraint.There was no restraint in his gaze now.
Trying to shake off her uneasiness she undressed and pulled on the soft wool of a silver-colored robe.It caressed her arms, the material clinging to her curves.She couldn't help but wonder what Jackson would think of her now, her body more mature than the lithe figure of her youth.Would he still find her desirable or would he see only the hardened exterior she had carefully crafted over the years?Glancing at the clock, she hurried to get dressed.It wouldn’t do for him to see her while she was so filled with uncertainty.
She chose a black gown that hugged her curves, wishing it was not spattered with crystals.The sleeves were long and pointed over her hands, a timeless design inspired by royal standards of centuries gone by.The neckline was both rounded and low, exposing the creamy skin of the curve of her breasts.Taking a black shawl she wrapped it around her shoulders, slipped on a pair of black slippers, and hurried to the dressing table.
Dabbing on her favorite scent she brushed her hair, but left it loose and flowing.Oh how she wished she had her diamond stars.The magical power infused in them would have been of great assistance.After all, she was dealing with the most powerful elf in the Northern Hemisphere, The Winter King.
His cryptic words lingered in the air as she slowly made her way down the magnificent curved staircase.She knew their past was fraught with pain and betrayal, but the idea of revisiting those wounds filled her with dread.What did he truly want from her now?Was it revenge, redemption, or something else entirely?She pondered the precarious situation she had willingly put herself in.She never should have come here with him, and for the first time in many years, she wished for her mother’s help.
Celestial would come to her aid.Crystalia was certain of that.She was a powerful elf, her magic unmatched in the realm, but how long would it be before she was missed?Crystalia’s nature of being reclusive was well known, and few tried to contact her with any regularity.Most would assume she was being her usual, difficult self, guarding her privacy and choosing that above all else.It suddenly occurred to her that throughout the last few decades it was only Jackson who braved her wrath and descended into her home unannounced, disrupting her peaceful, if solitary existence.
The clock chimed eight just as she saw him at the bottom of the staircase.
“I was just about to come up and get you.”
“As you can see, that wasn’t necessary,” she replied coolly.
He too was dressed formally in black and her heart took a sharp, unwelcome leap.His dark hair was neatly combed, accenting the brushes of silver at his temples.His smile was brilliantly white, if a little guarded, and it did not quite reach his blue eyes.
Taking her arm he led her toward the dining room.
“Normally, we will enjoy a drink before dinner while we discuss the events of our day, but you said you were starving and I assume you would not enjoy rehashing this afternoon,” he offered as one arm swept around her waist and softly patted her bottom.
It was a clear reminder of her earlier humiliation over his knees and she fumed while forcing herself to maintain a calm expression.
“In that you are correct.I would not like to revisit any part of my day,” she acknowledged stiffly, “particularly the part where I was foolish enough to climb into your sleigh.”
Jackson laughed.
“Now that was, of course a very treasured moment for me, an expression of your trust and faith in me, if you will.”
“My misplaced trust,” she hissed as he gently seated her at the massive dining room table.
“Oh, my Chrissy, you wound me,” he drawled dramatically, placing a hand over his heart before he too sat down.
“Not as much as I’d like to,” she sweetly replied.
