Every step toward my room is far too slow. I pass the glass windows and their clear view of the stars and spot the faint outlines of Frosts moving outside. Blurs of graceful motion building their masterpieces, draping ice across awnings and spinning snow from the sky. I don’t stop, though. None of them are Jax. While there’s no logical explanation for the certainty, I can sense he’s already waiting for me in my room.
As I lift the key to the door, Jax’s growl from our last night together replays in my mind.
“I can’t fuck you tonight, Tempest. Not the way we both want and deserve.”
I pull the key back, clutching it in my palm. My gaze drops to my booties, and I adjust the sweetheart neckline of my navy-blue maxi dress, admiring how the swirled tip of my mate mark shimmers between my breasts.
While I used to opt for higher necklines, I’ve started gravitating toward ones that dip lower, not minding it being seen. To everyone else, it’s a silvery scar. To me, it’s a permanent reminder of Jax. That he’s real even when the seasons separate us.
And now he’s just on the other side of this door, waiting for me. His chill and the gentle scent of spiced pine glide out into the hallway from under the door.
I shiver. I shouldn’t be so nervous. Jax has seen me naked. Has witnessed how my body falls apart from his touch. His tongue. His magic. He watched me for weeks before I knew of his existence.
But tonight’s different.
There’s no race against the clock. There’s only us.
My knees wobble, but I summon enough courage to finally bring the key to the door. It doesn’t work the first time, so I swipe the key and try again.
Click.
I barely twist the knob and the door groans all the way open. The room has been transformed, glowing with buttery light where Jax stands before the stone fireplace. He’s there in his fully solid harbinger form, just a pair of fitted trousers with his hands in his pockets. I actually think he’s nervous too.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” I rasp out, taking in the cozy space.
White flower petals pepper the floor and bed. Quilts and blankets have been strewn throughout the room, and behind the thin curtains hanging in front of the balcony are strings of twinkling fairy lights crisscrossing over each other. “How did you—”
“I may have borrowed them from the florist shop,” Jax replies. I can almost make out the tinge of a blush on his sharp, pale-blue cheek bones. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
The golden halo of lights hovering over Jax mutes his icy tones, and for a second, I can easily see the little boy in the grainy photos. The one taken tragically from this world.
I want to tell Jax that I’ve found his brother. Maybe he already knows Winston’s alive. Maybe he’s even seen him. But I know there will never be a normal time to bring up the subject, so I take a deep breath and begin.
“I know you remember bits and pieces of your mortal life, but did you ever search for your family after…”…You died. Somehow saying the words is like shoving an icicle into my own heart. “Do you remember what happened when you became a Frost?”
His brows lift a bit, then he crinkles his lips together to the side. “When you become a harbinger at a young age, it takes years of training. Not only to learn your Frost skills, but to also grow up and learn about the outside world.” The ball of his Adam’s apple bobs, and his voice cracks a bit. “Once I was done with my training, my first time back in the mortal world, I tried to find them. That’s when I learned that you can only visit the areas you’ve been assigned. The leaders in Nivea purposefully don’t let you go where your life was right away.”
I think back to what Jax has told me about the Lead Albidus role in our past conversations. He’s been working toward becoming one of these very leaders. “Why?”
“Look at what happened when I found you last winter.” He kneels on the fur rug, and I match his stance, our hands coming together. His thumb skims the pulse point of my wrist, and I shiver, not daring to take my eyes off him. “Interfering with mortals is dangerous. It can alter destinies. Even with my memories removed, I still found you. Still interfered.” The firelight tosses orange flares across his skin as his chest heaves. “They don’t remove our memories after we die. It would be toocruel to wipe away the good things we experienced in life. The ones we loved. So they keep harbingers away for the first handful of winters. Once they know you’ll follow the rules, that the mortal memories have loosened their grip, they aren’t as strict.
“I found my family. Let myself get distracted by being around them for years. Then eventually, I stopped going. I think it likely happens to most harbingers that way.”
The brittle resonance to his voice conveys the real truth: I’ve hit some fragile boundary Jax held within himself. But if this shatters him, I’ll be right here to collect the pieces alongside him, no matter how sharp. No matter how deep they cut. He’s read my journal, knows every ugly shard I’ve tucked away from the rest of the world. But not from him.
Never from him.
“Why?”
“What was the point? They couldn’t see me.” He tosses his hands in defeat, looking more like the teenage mortal than the otherworldly Frost he’s grown into. “Wouldn’t ever be able to.”
“What about now? We both know there’s a way. Your brother is still out there. I could talk to him. I could help him believe…”
“No.”
