Then he moves into the water, down onto what must be ashallow ledge, his feet barely making a splash, barely disturbing the gently swirling surface.
My body is yet to come into contact with the water, although the steam wafts up around me, a promise of life.
A moment later, he takes another step down, a deeper drop.
The soles of my feet touch the water, and I realize how unprepared I was for the pain.
Burning agony shoots through me, and I jolt against him with a cry, fighting the instinct to lift myself above the liquid—except that I can’t.
I no longer control my legs.
My exclamation turns to a whimper.
“We’ll go slow,” he murmurs before sinking a scant inch deeper.
All of my toes submerge. Then, slowly, the entirety of my feet.
I grit my teeth as I try to process the shooting agony in such small limbs.
How much more will it hurt when larger parts of my body are submerged?
“The pain is good.” His lips brush my earlobe as he speaks. “It means your limbs can be saved. Welcome it. Don’t fear it.”
A moment later, he sinks even lower, and my calves submerge.
I wrench against him again, my pelvis pushing forward as I fight the billowing terror of submersion.
Welcome it, he said.
Not possible to welcome this pain.Even though I know I need it.
At my wrench, a cold challenge enters his voice. “You asked me to make you warm, Oracle. If you ask for my help, you should assume it will inevitably lead to cruelty.”
If you want help, you must ask for it.
Antony’s command echoes back to me, unshakable in its resolve.
He stayed true to that command.
How true, I wonder, will the Frost King be tohispromise?
As if he senses my doubt—a doubt that grows from how carefully he’s lowering me into the water and how gently he’s cradling my head against his neck and how softly he sang pleasure into my body to keep me alive…
He reminds me, “Consider what you know for a fact, Oracle: I am heartless. In a storm of lies, that truth remains.”
Lies broke me.
Lies led me to this moment.
I refuse to let the truth destroy me, as lies have destroyed me.
“Thyra,” I say, taking deep breaths and meeting his eyes. “Call meThyra.”
He gives me a solemn nod. “Then you will call meStellen. As the Oracle, you are my equal.”
My jaw drops a little. “Equals.”
He shrugs, a slow action that doesn’t upset my position. “Or you could call meKing of Frost,and I could call youOracle.”
