Ice Queen Read online

  Noel moved closer to her, his eyes falling to her mouth, watching as she bit her lower lip in anxiety. “You thought I was here to kill you,” he finished what she could not say.

  “You wouldn’t have been the first,” she muttered, closing her eyes in memory. “There’ve been others, others who braced themselves against this winter to try to get to me. I think they believed that with my death, this eternal storm would end.”

  As he listened to her, he realized she didn’t sound too torn-up about it, almost as if she wouldn’t have minded meeting her end at their hands. Noel wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t like it. Frost should want to live, not die.

  He asked softly, “What happened to them?”

  “Winter took them,” Frost said, her eyes on him. “Winter killed them. I killed them.”

  There was a huge difference between men falling because of the cold and an icicle to the heart, but Noel was sure she didn’t care about the difference. Everything this never-ending winter did, every life it took—she blamed herself for it.

  Noel remembered the gigantic creature of snow, how it had her in its grip. It was not a being of nature, but one of magic, and one that didn’t seem to pay any attention to the magic running through Frost’s blood. “You don’t control everything that goes on here. Not everything is your fault.”

  A sad smile crossed her face, and she turned away, facing the snowy tundra just outside the snow-less camp. Blue was near the fire, curled up and napping. “I don’t need comforting words from a stranger. Your words mean nothing to me.” Over her shoulder, she glanced at him. “I don’t even know your name.”

  Right. He’d been so wound up in her that he’d forgotten to introduce himself.

  “Noel,” he said. “My name is Noel—and yes, I am an assassin, when the situation calls for it.” Before he knew what he was doing, his gaze fell to her backside, taking in the curve of her butt. The leather ensemble she wore fit snugly, not leaving anything to the imagination. It was not something he should’ve noticed, but he did.

  And she saw him staring, too.

  Shit. He had to salvage this situation fast. Noel grinned as he said, “And you know, the offer to tie you up still stands. Whenever you’re up for it.” He moved near the fire, holding out his hands, letting the heat envelop his fingers.

  Time ticked by slowly, the sun moving to set on the horizon. The fire had grown larger, and Noel had to get more wood for it, twice. Blue had hunted down two rabbits, which would serve as their dinner. Rabbit wasn’t his favorite, but when he was stuck in a kingdom full of snow and cold, he’d take what he could get. He wouldn’t be picky.

  It was as he was cutting into the second rabbit when a bulky, lumbering figure walked into camp, a large sword on his back. No, large didn’t quite cut it. Douglas’s sword was the size of a child, and just as heavy. Douglas was a man of no-nonsense, his hair shiny and black, a short beard covering his lower face. His eyes were a cloudy blue, oftentimes narrowed and squinted in seriousness. Combine that with his hulking muscles and the scar lining the left side of his face, and he looked quite intimidating.

  Frost took a step back when he appeared. She held a hand to her chest, her eyes surveying the area, as if she wanted to run. Blue moved not a muscle at Douglas’s approach; the wolf must’ve sensed what she could not—that Douglas wasn’t here to hurt her. He hardly hurt anyone, really. He was the kind of man who only harmed those who deserved it.

  “You found her,” Douglas spoke, almost in awe. Almost. His intense stare ate her up. “Looks skittish.”

  “I’m sure that’s simply because she wasn’t expecting a mountain to come strolling in,” Noel remarked with a smile, still kneeling over the rabbit corpses. To Frost, he said, “He might look scary, but I assure you, he’s like a…well, sort of like a teddy bear.”

  “A teddy bear?” Douglas repeated, his dark brows furrowing. He reached around his back, pulling out his large sword. “You take that back.”

  At the edge of camp, Frost looked ashen, as if she thought Douglas was going to attack Noel. A silly notion, truly.

  All Douglas did was stick his sword in the ground and sit near the fire, soaking in its heat, much like Noel had done earlier. “She likes to be called Frost now,” Noel explained. “Frost, meet Douglas. Douglas, Frost.”

  “Frost, huh?” Douglas frowned, glancing back at her. “Yeah, I get it.”

  Frost was busy taking another step away from the camp. She turned, probably to try to run off—but now that she was found, she wouldn’t be getting away. The very same moment she spun to dart off, the third and final crew member of this ragtag group of mercenaries appeared, clutching his bow.

  Hale was an…odd fellow, but he got the job done. He was almost like a brother to Noel, although they weren’t really related. More like friends. His hair was a colorless white, his eyes so dark they were near black. He was tall and lean and thin, as most archers were. He also hardly spoke, which was probably why Frost grew even more uneasy.

  Being surrounded by three men was not something she was used to; Noel couldn’t blame her for feeling the need to run.

  Hale’s dark eyes studied her, and he said not a thing. After surveying her, he moved around her, heading toward the fire, kneeling between Douglas and Noel. His hair was speckled with snow, sparkling in the light of the fire. Above them, the sun was gone, replaced by a starry night sky.

  “You should’ve introduced yourself,” Noel told him. When Hale only shrugged, he looked back to Frost and said, “Frost, this is…” He trailed off, mostly because Frost had just taken off. To the guys, he said, “Well, let’s go get her.”

  They all got up. Noel set down the rabbit. The only one who didn’t move was Blue.

  This was going to be a long job.

  Chapter Three

  No, no, Frost could not do it. The more she thought about it, the longer she pictured seeing Amara again, she just could not fathom it. Not after what she did. The things she’d done, the lives she’d ruined with her magic, it was unfathomable. And then being surrounded by three strange men? Three men who could tie back her hands and restrain her? If her hands were out of the picture, she was just like any other woman—small, frail, helpless.

  That one…Noel had called him a mountain, and he was right. Frost couldn’t recall ever seeing a man so large, so muscular.

  And the quiet one—there was something eerie about him. Or maybe it was just his hair. His hair was whiter than hers, the color of snow. It was a reminder of everything.

  Frost’s blood pumped through her body as she ran, her heart feeling like it was going to pop out of her chest. She wanted to claw it out, dig it out, try to get free of her blasted heart and its beating, but she could not. She’d tried to end herself before, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough to.

  What was she strong enough to do? Where was that particular list?

  Tears prickled her eyes, clouding her vision, and her legs stopped working. She collapsed on the ground in the snow, swiping her hands around her, causing a circular wall of ice to erupt from the snow and encase her, blocking out the world around her. Frost huddled against her legs, her emotions running wild, as they sometimes did.

  All those years of training, all those classes her mother and father had put her through—what did they get her? Frost was just as much a slave to her emotions now as she was back then. She couldn’t control them, could barely control her powers. What if she stepped foot in Springvale only to cause yet another eternal winter? If her sister was the queen of the kingdom…

  No, she couldn’t do that to Amara, not to all those people. Not again.

  She wasn’t going to go. She would stay here, tell the three men to return to Amara without her. She wouldn’t go.

  It took her a few minutes, but eventually Frost got her warring emotions under control. The ice around her was slow to sink into the ground, disappearing into nothing. She got to her feet, heaving a great breath as she turned to head back to their camp, ne
arly falling backward when she found the three men behind her.

  They’d followed her.

  They…didn’t look too happy, which she understood. The two newcomers stood in the back, while Noel stood closer to her, his arms crossed. “I would advise you not to run again,” he said, a warning. It was a warning she could not heed.

  “You may advise me all you want, but you do not tell me what to do,” Frost said, taking on a stern tone. “I’ve decided against going with you. I appreciate you letting me know Amara is alive and well, but I cannot in good conscience—”

  Noel stepped closer to her, and the two men behind him fanned out. The archer with white hair was quicker than she would’ve guessed, for before she could move, he was at her back, grabbing her hands and tying them up with the rope hanging on his side.

  “Hey,” Frost muttered, glaring, trying to break free. Her hands truly were the heart of her magic. Without them, she was useless. Couldn’t even whip up a single snowflake.

  “Hale, be gentle,” Noel spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” the man behind her, Hale, whispered. His voice was soft, so light she barely heard it.

  Noel smiled at her, and Frost hated that she sort of liked the smile. “I told you you’d be coming willingly or not. I wasn’t joking about tying you up.” As he spoke, the large warrior scooped her up, cradling her against his chest. His wide, muscular chest.

  The warrior, Douglas, was so warm it was startling.

  “Unhand me,” Frost commanded. “Put me down this instant, or else—” She was going to spew some threats, but the moment Douglas’s sapphire eyes fell on her, she stifled herself. Without her magic, she had no way of making true any of the threats she might’ve had. This man could crush her like a bug, break her in half with a single finger.

  “She’s been living in the tundra for too long,” Douglas said, glancing at Noel. “How did you get her to come with you in the first place?”

  “My charming personality,” Noel rattled off, and Frost swiftly turned her head to glare at him. “What? Don’t pretend you weren’t intrigued by me, Princess.”

  Ugh. She utterly hated it when he called her that. Frost was no more a princess than these guys were princes, and they were most definitely not princes. They were…she wasn’t certain what they were, but they were getting on her nerves. Forcing her to go with them, to see Amara. If bad things happened, they were on these guys’ conscience, not on hers.

  When Douglas set her down in camp, ten feet from the fire, Blue crawled over to her, setting his furry head on her lap. She frowned at the wolf. “Thank you for all of your help, Blue,” she muttered. His tail thumped, not comprehending the fact she wasn’t truly thanking him.

  Noel got back to work on the rabbits, roasting them over the fire. Douglas laid down, his head on the flattened grass below. Hale sat with his bow on his lap, his dark eyes on her, watching her like a hawk.

  Oh, how Frost loathed being watched. She’d been watched her whole childhood, and look at how that turned out. Nothing good ever came of watching her or trying to control her.

  “I hate you,” she said, wholly aware of how childish she sounded, but she did not care. These men could handle her like property, so she would give them any sort of attitude she could. “I hate all of you. I hope you freeze to death—”

  “A little extreme, don’t you think?” Noel asked, eyes twinkling with the reflection of the fire. He was a handsome enough man, she supposed, but his handsomeness did not negate the fact that she was here, tied up, in his camp, surrounded by two of his friends. “I would never want you to freeze to death. Or to die, really.”

  Frost rolled her eyes, huffing and puffing. Blue cuddled near her legs, resting his snout on his paws. “Blue,” she whispered. “Attack them. No, untie my arms first, then help me attack them.” If her arms were free, she would unleash righteous winter upon these stupid fools.

  Blue only whined in response.

  What in the world…why was the wolf not helping? They were always in synch, connected due to her magic. Why was Blue acting as if this was all okay?

  Frost watched as Hale got up, only to kneel directly before her. He had a bit of white stubble coating his jaw, his mouth a thin line. He was—Frost begrudgingly admitted—an attractive fellow too. They all were, in their own ways. She would not dare to try and guess their ages; she’d been away from other humans for far too long. They had to be years older than her, though.

  “We are not going to hurt you,” Hale whispered, his dark eyes a striking contrast to the rest of him. “Queen Amara needs your help. Without it, Springvale will fall to Fenburn.” His mouth clamped shut, as if he thought that was the only explanation needed.

  “Why would she need my help?” Frost questioned, breaking eye contact with him. Though he was a few feet away, she could feel the heat from his breath, from his body. She was so used to the cold, it was jarring.

  But…at the same time, it kind of felt good to be warm again.

  Hale inched closer, intent on her. “If you swear to us you will not run again, I will untie you.”

  Frost was about to agree, but Noel interjected, “And if you do swear you won’t run, and you do end up trying, we will have no choice but to tie up your legs as well and Douglas will have to carry you all the way to Springvale. That would be fun, right?” He grinned, his hood and face cloth in lumps around his neck.

  In response, Douglas shot a look at Frost. “Please don’t run. I have nothing against carrying a pretty woman for extended periods of time, but it is a long journey, and we’ll make it faster if we’re all on foot, moving as a unit.” When he spoke, his eyes narrowed, the intensity radiating off him almost too much.

  “A pretty woman,” Noel repeated, his grin widening from ear to ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call a woman pretty before. You always keep those feelings close to your chest. See? We’re making progress. Soon enough, I’ll know all about your worst fears.”

  Douglass grunted.

  These guys…were close to each other, Frost realized. They knew each other’s personalities, got along well, even if they picked on each other. They were friends. Had Frost ever had a friend? She’d had Amara growing up, but it wasn’t the same.

  Hale untied her, his fingers brushing against her skin. So warm, so alive. Most of the time, Frost felt dead. These guys, rude as they were, were a constant reminder that she wasn’t. She was still very much alive and kicking.

  Rubbing her wrists, she watched as Hale looped the rope back on his side before sitting down near his bow. “What does my sister need help with?”

  “That…that is something she’ll have to explain to you,” Noel said. He glanced to Douglas, and then to Hale, finally landing on Frost. “Sorry, Princess, but you’re going to be with us for a while.”

  “I’m sure I’ll manage,” Frost remarked, making Noel laugh. The sound was unlike anything she’d ever heard. It was a low laugh, scratchy in the same way his voice was—and it was a sound she rather liked.

  The rabbits were done cooking, and Noel gave everyone an equal portion. Frost ate in silence, watching as the guys talked and laughed. Mostly Noel and Douglas; Hale didn’t seem to talk too much, preferring to watch. It all seemed rather homey, which was ridiculous. Frost wasn’t sure she even knew the definition of the word homey anymore, having lived in a house made of ice for the last few years.

  It was…kind of nice, being with other people. It was something Frost could get used to, even though she knew she shouldn’t. People and her didn’t mix. She would go with them, do what she could to help Amara and keep Springvale safe from Fenburn, and then she’d go back to her ice house in Wysteria. Alone.

  Well, alone, save for Blue. Blue would be her only companion; Frost had to make a mental note to remember that. These guys, while fun and somewhat friendly, were not her friends. They weren’t her acquaintances. They were nothing to her, simply doing the job Amara had sent them on. The sad truth was, these men were in it for the coin,
just like every other person alive.

  Money. Everything came down to money in the end, for most people. Frost wasn’t like them, though. She had other things to concern herself with, such as not turning entire kingdoms to ice. Yeah, she hadn’t done too well on that front.

  That night, when she set her head down to sleep, she actually slept. Sleep took her with no problems, which she found ridiculously odd and ironic. Frost was with strangers; three strange men who could take advantage of her. She shouldn’t feel at ease in their presence, but that’s precisely how she felt. It was the oddest feeling.

  When morning broke, the sun rising in the clouded sky, Douglas was the first one up. He headed away from the camp to take care of his business while Noel got up and stretched. Blue whined as he yawned, flashing his fangs to any and all. Frost moved to the outskirts of camp, making sure to go in the opposite direction as Douglas, pulling out her hair from its tie. Staring at the snowy distance, she ran her fingers through her hair, about to redo the braid.

  There was something so peaceful about Wysteria when it was blanketed in snow, something Frost couldn’t describe. Maybe she felt at home in the cold. Maybe this was where she was meant to be all along. Frost didn’t exactly believe in fate, but it seemed this desolate kingdom was hers.

  Frost swept her hair to her left shoulder, about to start braiding when a man moved beside her, silent as he reached for her. She froze, watching as he touched a strand of hair she’d left out. Hale was just as stolid and pensive as he was the night before. She gathered the piece he’d touched, adding it to the braid.

  They stood in silence for a while, Frost watching the landscape around them, Hale watching her. It was a few minutes before she finished her braid, and as she turned to head back to camp, Hale stopped her by saying, “Douglas was wrong.”