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I’m not an idiot. I know perfectly well I wouldn’t make it very far in this weather. The road is buried, the snow is waist-deep in some places, and I’m not suicidal enough to attempt a hike down a mountain during a blizzard.

“You absolutely did.”

“I walked.”

“Through a back door.”

I glance over my shoulder at the open doors, then back at him.

“It was open.”

“Ver convenient.”

“Unlike your personality.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

His mouth actually twitches.

I see it. He tries to hide it.

He fails.

Hm.

Maybe there's a human being buried somewhere beneath all that black clothing and unresolved anger.

“You should be inside. It’s not safe out here.”

I toss my hair over my shoulder and glance toward the garden.

“You should mind your business.”

“I do.” He gestures toward the ground beneath my feet. “Unfortunately, you’re currently standing in it.”

I scoff.

“Has anyone ever told you that your ego is impressive?”

“Yes. Many times.” His gaze travels over me. “And has anyone ever told you that your survival instincts are shit?”

I click my tongue, irritation creeping beneath my carefully maintained composure.

How does he keep doing that?

How does he manage to chip away at my icy defenses so easily?

Not many people can get under my skin.

Dammit.

“My survival instincts are excellent.”

“Really?” He glances at the shattered icicle beside me. “Because from what I saw, you almost got taken out by an icicle.”

“That was a freak accident.”

“Like your arrival here?”