The tapping of Dad’s foot against the snowflake-tiled floor pulls my attention back to the stern faces glaring at me. We’re in City Hall, their way to remind me how officially in trouble I am. Icy columns twist their way to the domed ceiling, a mural of Jack Frost painted across it in metallic silvers, pearly whites, and shimmering sapphires.
“You will be under our supervision until your next winter in the mortal realm,” Pops says, his tone somehow both scolding and pitying.
Dad wastes no time adding, “You will be allowed earthside next winter for the southern hemisphere. You are not allowed back on the East Coast until it’s winter there.”
Six more months until I can see Jolie again. On the bright side, this means I’m not going to have to wait another three seasons to earn more frost marks. It stings, nonetheless.
“I’m sure this is incredibly difficult for you.” Dad wraps an arm around me, eyes shooting to his mate. “But we want to help.”
“Then help me find a way to make this work with her. There has to be something. A loophole of some sort.”
Fate wrings her purple-and-green streaked hands, each nail painted a different bold hue. “There’s a reason we have our rule about interfering with mortals. Even something innocuous can have ripples, affecting not just their fate but the fate of others. When I saved Jolie’s life, the ripples of that were vast. Farther reaching than you can imagine. I’m still trying to mend the rift it created in the balance.” She strides closer, a strange clacking rattling within her dress. My eyes drop to her hip. She halts in place, ignoring my curious gaze. “The Blooms called for your hibernation to be forcefully extended again. They were not thrilled with the stunt you pulled with Briar.”
“Did he get in trouble?” My throat is scraped dry. Briar owed me a favor over a mishap ten seasons ago. While he’d never admit it from his seemingly gruff exterior, Blooms are a romantic bunch. When I told him about my mate, he’d let me use his harbinger magic to transport close enough where I could race to Jolie. I’d scented her approaching solstice with every pant of breath that billowed from my lungs as my wolf sprinted through the darkened DC streets to her.
I can’t say that no one noticed, but I wasn’t paying much attention. Only focused on one thing: finding Jolie and being with her for solstice.
“Of course Briar was disciplined. These things don’t occur without consequence.” Nausea churns in my gut. “However, weexplained the situation, and they’ve decided to let him finish out this spring, but he’s on double duty to earn his flourish marks.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’re going to have to stay on top of you, aren’t we?” Pops asks, arching a brow at Dad and then shifting his gaze to me.
There’s something about when both of them come down on you, giving their full scalding attention. It’s ten times more intimidating. Even though I’m grown—an immortal, for fuck’s sake—I’m still not immune to the tinge of shame it brings.
But at the end of the day, I’d make the same decision all over again. No regrets. Those moments of seeing myself through Jolie’s eyes, her watching as I brought her to the brink of ecstasy, they made me feel more alive than I ever have since being a Frost.
I loosen the corner of my lip into a lopsided smirk. “Things needed a little riling up around here, don’t you think?”
They groan, shaking their heads.
Jolie’s pulse clamors within my chest, a constant reminder she’s with me even when we’re separated by the veil. Without my harbinger magic, without an assignment within her vicinity, there’s no way to her.
At least not yet.
27
JOLIE
When I wasn’t at rehearsals, I tucked away at home with my hand between my legs or poised under a cold shower, which still didn’t help much with solstice’s effects.
After about two days, I was nearly back to normal. Though I couldn’t forget Jax’s cool breath on my skin, his fingers grazing the tips of my thighs, and that very hard, very specific, part of him. He’d watched every moment. Demanded I did too. Now that image of our bodies framed within the frosted mirror is imprinted into memory.
Luckily,Giselle’s opening week is finally here. The increase of rehearsals has been a welcome addition to my routine. At first, I worried Jax would distract me from ballet, now ballet is a much-needed distraction from him. It’s been two weeks since that night at the studio, and I can’t stop thinking about Jax and how we are mates.
Mates.
I am still wrapping my head around it. According to what he’s told me, he still senses me, even now that he’s practically vanished from my life.
But your heart, your beautiful fucking heart, I can feel from anywhere.
Does he hear my pulse ramping up its pace? Feel the nerves fluttering to life in my belly?
I press a hand over my heart.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
When it comes to Jax, there isn’t much I wouldn’t believe.
