“You wouldn’t know what to do with them.” I laugh, hurl another snowball, but miss him by an inch. “It’s only a thing formere mortals.”
He laughs—a real, booming sound—and shakes his head. “Then you leave me no choice but to escalate.”
I turn just in time to see him lunge. He doesn’t throw anything this time. Instead, he charges right at me!
I scramble backward, my boots slipping on a patch of ice beneath the powder. I manage to lob one last, desperate ball of slush at his chest, but he ignores it. He takes the hit like it’s nothing, his hands reaching out, his eyes flashing with predatory mirth.
He catches me around the waist, his momentum hitting me like an ocean wave. We go down together, a chaotic tangle of green wool and blue velvet. The snow swallows us, a cold, soft explosion that fills my vision with white.
Vale pins me, his weight heavy and solid, his knees bracketing my hips. White powder floats down and catches on his black curls while we just stare at each other. He looks young, happy. And in that moment, maybe he even looks like my husband.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” His voice is a whisper, its undertone braided with concern and awe alike. “Surrender?”
“Never.” A smug smile. Then I reach down, grab a fistful of loose, powdery snow, and smash it directly into his face.
Vale recoils, sputtering and wiping his eyes as the white spray coats his nose and cheeks. It’s the opening I need, so Ishove against his chest, roll out from under him, and scramble to my feet, nearly tripping over my hem.
“Elara!” he bellows, though the word is fractured by how he’s spitting snow. “Oh yes, you better run now!”
I sprint for the yawning darkness of large doors, my lungs burning, my heart bouncing. I burst into the shadows of the stable, the air thick with the scent of old hay, dry straw, and the lingering warmth of the horses that went to pasture earlier.
Snow. Snow. Snow.
Where do I get—ah!
From the white sill of an open stable window, I gather two handfuls, my fingers tingling with the cold that seeps through my gloves. I dive behind a stack of grain sacks, pressing my shoulder against the rough burlap, forming the powder into a tight sphere while I wait for the silence to break.
The stable is deathly quiet, save for the sound of my frantic pulse in my ears.Where is he?
I peek around the edge of the burlap, my eyes adjusting to the dim, golden light filtering through the rafters. He hasn’t followed me through the door, so?—
Straw rustles.
Behind me.
I bolt upright, spinning around with a gasp, my arm already cocked back to hurl the ball. Too slow.
A powerful arm hooks around my belly, lashing me back against a chest that feels like an anvil of heat and solid muscle. I let out a sharp cry of surprise as my feet nearly leave the floor, my back pressed flush against the damp blue velvet of Vale’s coat.
“Apologize.” Vale’s voice is a low, vibrating purr against the shell of my ear, sending a different kind of shiver down my spine. His right hand snakes forward, clamping firmly around my wrist and pulling my snowball up until it’s hovering inchesfrom my face. “Say sorry, Elara. Say you’re an infuriating menace of a wife.”
“You cheated!” I struggle in his grip, my heels kicking uselessly against his shins. “You just…appeared behind me with whatever that?—”
White, biting cold puffs into my face.
Chapter
Eighteen
Elara
The cold is a shock.
I stumble back, coughing snow from my mouth, the freezing crystals melting against the heat of my tongue. And yet giggles bubble out of me, bouncing off the stable’s ancient beams.
Vale lets out a soft, huffing laugh. His grip on my waist loosens, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he turns me toward him, the edge of his heavy velvet sleeve brushing the remaining slush from my cheeks and brow.
I look up at him, the golden light in my chest pulsing in rhythm with my heart. My laughter fades, tapering off into the heavy breathing between us as his thumb grazes the line of my jaw.
