“Don’t be embarrassed, Tempest. I love it.”He swallows audibly, then his voice drops to a level that sinks deep inside me. A bone-level baritone that vibrates through me. “As mates, it is useful in finding each other, especially around solstice.”
“Solstice?”
“The official changeover of the seasons. Once you’ve worked through the season, it closes at solstice. It doesn’t necessarily coincide with the mortal realm’s calendar. It’s when the harbingers are set to transition before hibernation, a final way to reconnect with our mates before we rest and regain our strength to continue bringing the seasons.”
“Your solstice isn’t next month… It’s sooner?” I croak out the words, my throat much too dry to form a full sentence without pausing to swallow.
“It is.”
“What happens?” I ask, immediately wondering if I really want to know the answer.
“I’m only speaking on what happens to harbingers, I’m not sure if it will be the same for you. But you might find yourself having a certain itch that needs scratching.”
“And my mate is supposed to scratch it?”
“I love seeing you blush,”Jax says, and I somehow manage to heat even more, certain every inch of my body is beet red. He chuckles, and it shakes the bed, making my thighs clench.“Usually, mates hole up for days together, savoring each other’s bodies, reuniting souls before either turns in to hibernate.”
Hole up fordays? My mind cannot comprehend, but my body wants to understand. Badly.
“Do the men— Do you have the same urges during solstice?”
“This will be my first mated solstice and no one else has a mortal mate, but yes, I assume so.”There’s a bit of a growl to his tone that he cuts off mid-sentence, as if trying to control it.“I’ve fully prepared to handle things on my own, though.”
A vision of himhandlingthingsstruts all too eagerly into my mind.
“Have I scared you off?”
I’m terrified. Not of him, though. My own intrigue scares me most.
He’s sitting here and I still can’t bring myself to believe it. Not truly. If I did, he wouldn’t be slightly translucent, unable to fully touch me. When I realize he hasn’t spoken because he’s waiting for me to respond to his question, I blurt out my delayed response. “Just trying to wrap my head around everything.”
“Well, now that we’re snowed in, what should we do?”he asks, blessedly changing the subject. My skin stops prickling and gradually returns to its normal shade. Before I answer, he tosses out an idea.“How about you show me some more of your favorite movies?”
“Sounds great.” It’s the perfect excuse to keep him here but avoid more talk of mates or solstice. Or anything else that would make me blush.
We spend the rest of the day having a movie marathon, and I’m grateful for the company, especially when I head out into the living room, overhearing Lark and Delilahenjoyingthe day off from work. In between flicks, we talk about our favorite things. Jax tells me about Nivea, where he lives when he’s not in the mortal world, and I ask about a million questions, trying to imagine what it must be like.
When night falls, he leaves for a few hours, promising to be back each morning to spend as much time with me as possible until spring forces its way in. He doesn’t seem afraid of the trouble he’ll be in. I still hate that he’ll likely be punished because of me, though I can’t help how much I savor our extra time together and the steadying weight of his presence.
Over the next week,his visits became fewer and farther between. The studio reopens. Occasionally, I spot his wolf watching from across the street, his glittering eyes and snout hovering just above the bushes. He never lingers long, though. Not that he really could. A wolf isn’t a normal sight in DC, after all.
Then, one morning I wake to an empty bedroom, heat blowing strong and steady and stifling through the vent… And I just know Jax is gone.
MARCH
25
JOLIE
It’s been ten days since I saw Jax.
At first I’d hoped it was a fluke, but by day three, when ice dripped into pools on the ground, I was certain he had been called back to his wintry home. Was he being punished right now? He said it was worth it, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty, especially since I never managed to catch a full glimpse of him.
Some days I wonder if I made it all up, but the dull ache in my chest is much too real.
I miss him.
I’ve been throwing myself into rehearsals, even more so than usual the last few days. My body itches tomove. It’s as if sitting still is the worst thing in the world.
