Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

by Rachelle Mills

  Zeus kept casting Hera looks of what seemed to be nervousness. “Why is it the two quarreled, my son?”

  “Why, for the affections of Jack Frost!” Hermes explained brightly.

  Elle was about to massively protest this comment before a cool voice was whispering into her ear, light as a feather. “You would do well to keep your pretty little mouth shut,” whispered Jack, his cool breath gently hitting Elle’s earlobe. “Smile and nod to what he says, firecracker…” Elle turned to glare at him, only to find Jack was watching her with a mischievous grin across his pale lips. “Or, you know, go get yourself turned into a field mouse. That would be an interesting way to be rid of you.”

  Elle ignored him. One minute he was trying to kill her, the next, Jack Frost was attempting to give what seemed like helpful advice? That didn’t hold much logic. He had so many problems Elle was certain he could make even the strongest psychiatrist run for the hills. Zeus was suddenly standing. He clapped his large hands together. “There seems to have been a grand misunderstanding. Evangeline Darrow, descended of fire, I hereby clear you free of charges. You may go.”

  “My Lord, she attacked my daughter!” Eros fired back hotly. “She cannot go along unscathed of punishment—”

  “Hey! If you wouldn’t have given me that stupid snow globe, Prince Popsicle wouldn’t have found me and your daughter wouldn’t hate me because I’m unfortunately engaged to her boyfriend!” Elle snapped angrily. It all seemed pretty cut and dried to Elle. She was fine with blaming Eros for her problems. If not for him, Jack wouldn’t have found her courtesy of that stupid snow globe.

  Eros’s kaleidoscope-colored eyes widened in surprise. He soon turned a harsh look onto Voluptas. “What does she mean, my daughter, when she says ‘boyfriend?’”

  Voluptas held a blank stare, slight fear now coating her lovely features. “I do not know.”

  Elle rolled her eyes as Eros turned to her next. Cupid’s eyes flashed a deep red.

  “What did you mean when you stated Frost was her boyfriend?”

  Before Elle could realize what was happening, she was suddenly transported back to one of the large winter-themed rooms back at Boreas’s castle. Someone had grabbed her arm previous to arriving. Elle looked around in wonder, not understanding how she wound up back here. It was twirling around to see Jack watching her with a calculated gaze that caused her to gasp. She composed her fear after a moment before suddenly scowling.

  “Oh my gosh, really? We’re going to play the let’s-kill-Elle game again?” Elle questioned furiously, her hand tightening on the dagger still in her hands. “Because I really don’t like playing that.”

  “Calm yourself,” said Jack. “I’m not going to kill you. You die by my hand and my father has guaranteed he’ll make my life a worse hell because of it. No, I brought you back here so you couldn’t run your little mouth to tell on Voluptas and me.”

  Elle thought hard on what was going on back at Zeus’s throne room. A proverbial light bulb clicked to understand what he was referring to. “Ohh…you don’t want me to reveal you and your girlfriend were—”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Jack intervened hotly. “Get that through that tiny, acorn-sized mind of yours.”

  Elle watched him with raised brows. “Someone doesn’t seem to want other people to know he was getting busy with Captain Hair Extensions?”

  Jack looked about to speak before his brows furrowed together. “Captain Hair Extensions?”

  Elle merely shrugged. Little did he know that was a lot nicer than Elle’s secret thoughts of mentally referring to Voluptas as Captain Fake Chest. Goddess or not, Elle didn’t believe her chest size adequately fit a woman of Voluptas’s small frame. Those puppies looked as fake as her hair extensions.

  Jack snorted as Elle provided no response to his question. Meanwhile, Elle watched him, waiting for him to say something about what she accidentally witnessed between him and Voluptas. Jack didn’t. Instead, he watched Elle with a rather cold expression.

  “What the Styx are you looking at?” he snapped impatiently.

  Elle diverted her eyes to the floor, watching her bare feet awkwardly.

  “Why are we here…?”

  The immortal prince snorted. “We’re here because my father insists on you being my betrothed. You’re here in existence because Matthew impregnated the volcano goddess,” Jack drawled, arching an eyebrow as he coolly leaned against a nearby frosted white pillar in his room. “Savvy?”

  Elle clenched her jaw before answering. “You realize none of this is my fault, right?”

  “I don’t see why not,” said Jack, with yet another cold look. “After all, you were born.”

  Elle took both of her hands to gently clutch at her temples. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want any of this, okay? None of it!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the extremely large room.

  Jack watched her with another uncaring expression, but Elle still felt inspired to continue. “Just the other day, my biggest worry was balancing work and school while figuring out how I was going to pay for my next semester. Now, I’m stuck here and being forced to marry a guy who wants to kill me…” Elle trailed off, a stupid realization suddenly forming.

  “We should work together!” she suddenly said, slapping her own forehead. It was all so very obvious, she couldn’t see why she didn’t think of it sooner. Elle had been so preoccupied with seeing Jack as an enemy, she didn’t bother to realize that the two of them could be decent allies!

  Elle’s face suddenly lit up in a smile as Jack’s brows scrunched together. “What in the realms are you raving about?”

  She threw a fist pump excitedly. “You and me! Don’t you get it? I don’t want to marry you and vice versa. Instead of hating each other, we should pool our resources together to get out of this sham of a marriage! We should just tell Boreas neither of us wants to get married!” She beamed, feeling smug.

  Elle didn’t quite know what she was expecting from Jack. She wasn’t quite expecting absolute jubilation, but something close. If she were honest, Elle was expecting that perhaps a look of dawning realization would cross his handsome features. She assumed maybe he would see this from her perspective that she was just as much a victim in being forced into this marriage as he was.

  But Jack Frost was proving to be a man of ultimate surprise. He broke into a strong cackle of laughter as he watched Elle.

  Elle’s excited smile slowly slipped off her face as Jack stepped closer, shaking his frosted white head in dismay.

  “What naïve notions plague your tiny mind. Really, you just prove yourself a little dumber every time I speak with you.” It was Elle’s crestfallen expression that caused Jack to suddenly appear before her in the blink of an eye. “Update,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have tried for well over two hundred and fifteen years to get myself out of this marriage. That’s over two centuries, in case your little pea brain has trouble with the arithmetic.”

  “So what?” Elle shot back. “They can’t make us get married when we don’t want to—”

  “Why not?” Jack interjected. “Because it would be morally wrong? Because you merely don’t want to?” He laughed coldly. “I’ve heard Eros speaking to others that you’re under the impression that Matthew’s retelling of history is only myths and legends. Maybe you should take a little time for a history lesson,” Jack snarled, glaring down at Elle. “There is no such thing as fair when you’re dealing with gods and monsters,” he declared, a sinister-looking smirk on his face. He was enjoying Elle’s suddenly fearful expression.

  “Like it or not, Firecracker, there is no getting out of this union till death do us part,” he said, a glare etched on his breathtakingly beautiful face. Elle blinked when she really shouldn’t have. Just as quickly as he had appeared, Jack Frost disappeared.

  Chapter Twelve

  After the spat with the legendary Jack Frost, handmaidens had come for Elle. They threatened her into following their commands. She was to fol
low them to prepare her the ball that evening or be confined to the dungeons. Given Elle felt the dungeons would provide Jack Frost with too much glee, she decided to follow the hook-nosed woman and her equally goblin-like comrade. Elle hadn’t wanted to bathe in a large tub that smelled strongly of lilacs and strawberries, but the castle keepers didn’t leave her much option. It was either bathe herself or the keepers would bathe her. Feeling not too keen on the idea of the keepers watching her naked, Elle bathed in the ridiculously large tub that more resembled a small swimming pool rather than a bathtub. She could have drowned if she weren’t careful. It was extremely long in length and at least four and a half feet in depth.

  After the bath, her hair was blow-dried and then styled to perfection by the keepers. Elle had half a mind to ask how it was possible an old-fashioned place that had a castle and people that wore tunics and robes could possess electricity for such luxuries, but she had other things to think about that were more pressing. Namely, how to escape.

  There was no way anyone could really expect her to marry Jack. He hated her nearly as much as Elle hated him. This wasn’t a light squabbling before a romance blossomed like in romantic comedies; Elle found she truly loathed Jack Frost. There wasn’t one part of the winter-themed monster she found appealing.

  By the time Elle was dressed and her hair and makeup was applied, she barely recognized herself. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders as it curled gently at the ends. Her already red lips were highlighted with a lip liner and clear gloss that made them specifically pop. It was Elle’s eyes that she found were unrecognizable; dark smoky shades underlined and shadowed her brown eyes, defining them completely.

  There was no time to focus on the makeup while wearing the gown she was dressed in. Elle wore a deep red number with a sweetheart neckline that flowed at least a foot behind her. It was a strange dress that showcased her long legs and covered her back but was shorter up front. The gown was easily the most extravagant thing Elle had ever worn. Diamonds and small rubies covered the back of her gown, giving off the impression her dress was on fire.

  One of the keepers had stated that King Boreas and his queen specifically picked this dress for Elle. She could see why; it went along with the ridiculous notion that Elle was descended from some silly fire kingdom.

  By the time Elle was escorted to the main floor at least fifty floors below the one she was sent to live on, she was mentally calculating an escape plan. She figured out how she could escape—she could use Greek mythology to her advantage. Maybe if she caused a large enough fight between gods who would often squabble in mythology books, she could escape.

  After being escorted into the grand ice-themed ball room by the keepers, Elle was seeing far too many people she recognized. Zeus and Hera were chatting with King Boreas and his queen, whose name Elle had already forgotten. Apollo was chatting with a large dark-skinned man with calloused hands. Eros was there with a young woman who Elle would bet her left ear was his wife, Psyche.

  At least a hundred more individuals littered the dance floor, all chatting and happy amongst themselves. Women were dressed to impress with glittering or sequined gowns of gold or some other purposely set color scheme. Men were dressed in sparkling golden or silver armors or a more expensive version of Armani.

  Considering she skipped out on her own prom because she didn’t like crowds, Elle whirled around to exit before she found a young man was blocking her path.

  It was the same curly blond boy who had arrived with Hera to stop Zeus from punishing her. Hermes wore an expensive suit just like some of the other men, but instead of a type of dress shirt, he wore a Bob Marley green tee underneath his jacket.

  As Elle took in the strange boy, she realized he resembled a sixteen-year-old human rather than a couple thousand-year-old god. He wasn’t all that intimidating as the other gods and goddesses she had met so far. Hermes had too large of a goofy grin on his young face, looking young and simply carefree.

  “Elle!” he said excitedly, suddenly reaching to engulf her in a hug. “It’s been years! You’re all grown up now, aren’t you?”

  Elle blankly stared at the young man as he released her. She quickly threw a look at the exit. Her plan to escape already had flaws in it. Even if she could cause the gods to fight, where was she going to go once she got outside? If she was truly in the North Pole, there really wasn’t a quick bus to take back to South Carolina.

  “Ah, I nearly forgot that you went by Elle…” said Hermes, grinning as he tossed an arm over Elle’s bare shoulders. “Well, anyway, what’s new, how ya been, how are you adjusting?”

  Elle swiveled her head to stare at the jubilant boy, not really understanding why he was acting as though they had known each other for years. He looked as though Elle were merely a long-lost friend he was catching up with rather than a stranger. It took her a moment to find her voice. “I think you’re under the impression we know each other…” She trailed off stupidly.

  Hermes laughed. “I forgot, the last time we saw each other, you weren’t tall enough to reach my waist!”

  “Isn’t that nice…” said Elle, carefully stepping away from him as she walked away. Hermes was quick; he appeared before her in the blink of an eye.

  “Where ya going?”

  Elle took in a deep breath, trying not to snap at this newcomer. It wasn’t his fault she was stuck here. He was just too friendly for his own good. Elle’s brown eyes widened as she thought about something. “You lied earlier,” she said carefully, shaking her head. “Back at that trial—”

  Hermes quickly came forward to cover her mouth with his hand, shaking his head gently.

  “You’ll do well to remember the people you are now around can hear quite well,” he said, a devilish grin to him. “I merely gave witness to what I knew to be true. Even if I wasn’t technically there to witness,” he said, with a soft wink.

  Elle nodded, stepping away from his hand. “Thanks for that. I think I was going to be punished for something Miss Hair Extensions started.”

  Hermes started chuckling. “No doubt you’re talking about the Diaper Baby’s daughter with that comment.”

  “Diaper Baby?” Elle asked, looking in the direction Hermes was pointing. It was directly at Eros.

  “You’ll come to find Cupid is fiercely protective of his many offspring, no matter how awful or devious they may be,” said Hermes quietly. “Miss Voluptas also tried flirting with Matthew on more than one occasion.”

  Elle frowned at the mention of her father. “So…did you know my dad, too?”

  Hermes’ expression saddened before he nodded abruptly. “I did, quite well. I’m very sorry. No one should lose their father to such a terrible curse.” He sighed, grabbing two drinks from a nearby table. “Apple cider?” he asked politely.

  Elle shook her head slowly, a word from Hermes catching her off-guard. “You mean cancer…” She trailed off. She specifically heard Hermes say curse, not cancer. Did gods refer to cancer as a curse?

  Hermes frowned as he shook his head. “Oh gods, no. Matt was cursed, didn’t you know? Someone poisoned him.” He nodded sadly. “Truly terrible stuff. The poison he was slipped had to have been constantly provided. The funny thing is it wasn’t actually poison. It was ambrosia. Now, everyone knows ambrosia can only be taken by gods and demigods. Any mortal who were to ingest too much ambrosia often can result in serious life-long injury or even death. Poor Matthew never realized he was slowly being poisoned over the better course of a year. By the time Apollo and I figured it out, it was too late to save him,” Hermes finished gloomily, sipping his cider.

  “What?” Elle suddenly shrieked, staring at the young man in shock. A few nearby people in the Great Hall looked around in wonder at Elle’s shout but soon went back to conversing with other partygoers. This stranger just dropped a bomb on Elle’s world.

  Hermes hazel eyes widened as he shrugged awkwardly. “I was just letting you know some history—”

  “Someone poi—”

>   Hermes’ hand once again covered Elle’s mouth. “Shhh! Oh gods, I didn’t mean to upset you!” he whispered, sounding embarrassed. “I was just sharing some history with you.”

  Elle roughly pushed him away from her, a burning hatred suddenly flaring. She was already having a hard time adjusting to being in a land of gods, but this was going too far. Her father was poisoned? Someone intentionally wanted him dead?

  “Who did it?” Elle asked, her tone surprisingly void of all emotion.

  Hermes suddenly seemed rather nervous. “I don’t know,” he answered a little too quickly. His eyes drifted over across the ball room, and Elle dared to allow her eyes to float over to the same spot. Zeus and Hera were still conversing with Boreas and his queen as Apollo was talking to someone nearby. Khione was dancing with a handsome man with deep sea-green eyes. The two twins of Boreas had with them a pair of beautiful girls as they took to dancing in the same area.

  But it was none of these people Elle locked eyes on. It was her intended fiancé, the man who only just a few hours previously told her there was no escaping her engagement. A truly strong wicked rage filtered through Elle as she watched Jack Frost winking at a girl who looked specifically dressed as if she had climbed out of the ocean. Hermes suddenly became caught up with someone coming to speak with him. Elle took his sudden loss of attention as an advantage to stalk closer to the person she found she truly hated. She needed answers to what Hermes said.

  Jack was too busy conversing with the beautiful blonde in front of him. She was dressed in a golden tunic that flowed behind her. Her midriff was bare, and her chest was covered with a sea-green string bra top that was decorated with seaweed and shells.

  Elle didn’t care if confronting Jack in a room full of people was a good idea. She felt she already had her answer as to who poisoned her father. There was only one immortal in the room who wanted her deeply dead solely because she was engaged to him. Who was to say Jack Frost didn’t have a hand in killing her father?