Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

by Rachelle Mills

  Elle was surprised to find she held no qualms with half elbowing, half shoving the girl out of her way. The girl glared at Elle and began muttering something, but Elle didn’t care to listen.

  “Well, if isn’t my betrothed,” said Jack, his eyes gently raking over Elle’s entire body. His eyes returned to her face. “You clean up well for a mutt.”

  Elle ignored the comment. She stared at Jack’s handsomely pale face, surprised to find her eyes were watering. Even though he was a very rude and callous person, and even though he tried to kill her, Elle didn’t experience as much hatred for Jack Frost as she did in that moment of feeling he poisoned her father. Had he actually killed Matthew, Jack Frost then ruined Elle’s life by taking away the only parent she ever had.

  “Did you do it? Did you kill him?”

  Jack casually sipped at the goblet in his pale hand, shrugging his shoulders at Elle. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, Letter.” Elle stared at him with her same heartbroken expression only for Jack to roll his eyes. “My apologies. I keep forgetting you have difficulty with large words. When I say Letter, it’s me referring to the rather dumb way you refer to yourself as the letter L.”

  “You did it…you killed my dad…” She trailed off, feeling more hatred for Jack Frost than for anyone else in her entire life. That was the only possible explanation for how he could joke at a time like this.

  Jack rolled his pretty grey eyes as he stepped forward, leaning so very close to Elle. She could feel his icy coldness radiating from him. “Did I?”

  “You’re not even going to deny it?” she whispered, her voice hollow and void of emotion.

  Jack smiled wistfully, straightening his posture for Elle to find he was dressed in a long-sleeved navy buttoned shirt and dress pants. He gently shook his head. “If you want to think that, I’m going to let you. Maybe you’ll be so overcome by grief for missing your daddy, you’ll dagger yourself out of depression or throw yourself off of the highest tower. Either way, I’ll then be rid of you for good.” He grinned, winking before he walked away.

  That comment did it. Elle suddenly became so very heated with rage she wanted to scream as loud as she could. She wanted to throw all the winter-themed goblets at all the pretty people. Elle felt she was boiling, ready to erupt from the fiery anger threatening to completely envelope her. She was overcome with the strong desire to hit Jack to his stupidly handsome face. She wanted to rip out chunks of his frosted white hair and shove it down his throat; she wanted revenge.

  “Get back here, Frosty!” Elle roared, whipping a pointed finger toward Jack.

  That’s when everyone gasped in shocked surprise. Elle stalked toward the retreating Jack, not caring quite a few eyes were on her. Jack didn’t bother turning back to address her. That alone caused Elle to become even more irate. He wasn’t going to get away with yet another stupid joke before walking away—she wouldn’t allow that. Jack Frost was going to pay.

  Jack didn’t get far before Elle caught up with him, roughly hitting his shoulder to get him to pay attention. “Come on! What, the big bad Jack Frost is all tough and mighty until someone’s willing to hurt him? Come on!” Elle yelled, shaking her hands before roughly hitting him on the shoulder.

  That’s when the gasps of the group got incredibly loud. Jack’s shoulder caught flame, roughly ripping his jacket before burning through to his icy pale skin.

  That immediately got his attention. Jack jumped in surprise before using an ice-cold hand to extinguish the flames.

  Once the flame was properly out, Jack turned his stunned attention on to Elle. She no longer saw a cruel hatred on his face. There was now deep surprise and maybe even fear.

  That’s when the tingling sensation surprised Elle. Her hands felt that similar feeling when one’s hand fell asleep and you’re trying to regain feeling. The deep tingly sensation that could make your hands feel almost numb. Elle dared to look down to see both of her hands were on fire, a deep blaze that radiated from her palms and engulfed her entire hands. Strangely, she couldn’t feel a thing.

  Elle said nothing as she watched her hands fearfully, as all the other partygoers seemed to form a large circle around the room that purposely kept Elle and Jack on the inside.

  King Boreas limped his way to the front of the circle, making his way inside. He was strangely beaming.

  The old man looked positively jubilant as he stroked his long white beard. “Ha, ha, ha! Well, well! It seems after all the hesitant behavior previously was for naught. Ladies and gentlemen, gods, goddesses, and merfolk: I give you my son, and heir to Winter’s throne, Jacques Frost. With him, his lovely betrothed, Evangeline Darrow, heir to the fire coven!”

  As everyone began to clap loudly with the exception of Apollo and Voluptas, Elle was suddenly horrified. The realization began to sink in.

  Boreas didn’t have the wrong person after all; Elle truly was descended from a fire kingdom.

  Looking at Jack, Elle found he wore the same rigid expression as earlier. She was afraid he was suddenly going to retaliate for burning his shirt as he stepped forward. Elle stepped away, but not before Jack grabbed her still-on-fire hand with one of his frozen ones. Almost immediately, the fire began to extinguish, flames being replaced with steam as if suddenly they had been doused with a large amount of water.

  Elle watched how Jack didn’t drop her hand even after removing the flames. He watched it for a moment, no doubt marveling how her skin wasn’t scarred and burned even while having been on fire just a few moments earlier.

  Jack brought his grey eyes to Elle, his familiar crooked grin on his face. “Congratulations, Letter. Turns out you’re a demigoddess after all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “My dear guests, with our lovely ball only beginning, ’tis custom for the betrothed couple to celebrate a first dance together,” said Boreas, smiling proudly in the direction of Elle and his son. Elle vehemently shook her head, determined not to do such a thing. Dance with the devil? Dance with the man who murdered her father? Elle would rather hold her own breath until she was dead.

  Jack did not say a word, yet he did not release Elle’s hand. He quietly offered his other hand to her, as if silently requesting she take a hold of it.

  “No,” said Elle stiffly, her eyes glaring daggers at her fiancé and the hand he still held clenched in a tight fist. Boreas swiftly turned his head to stare at her upon this declaration. Many murmurs took over the room as individuals soon watched Elle curiously.

  “What did you say, child?” Boreas inquired, using a large hand to stroke his thick beard.

  “I believe the mortal denied your request, my king,” Zetes announced loudly, looking rather smug, as did the woman standing beside him. Many subjects of winter’s throne suddenly looked rather intrigued. Other immortals attending the ball stopped and stared as well. The only noise throughout the large throne room was the echoing music of the organ still playing loudly.

  Boreas ignored his son’s words.

  “What did you say, child?” Boreas repeated, this time in a much nastier voice as he watched Elle.

  Jack Frost provided Elle’s hand a strange squeeze, one that she almost thought was a silent warning. She ignored it to rip her hand away from his hold. “I. Said. No,” Elle said through gritted teeth, glaring at the king.

  Boreas’s queen looked rather smug at Elle’s disrespect, along with Zetes. Jack showed no emotion. Khione hid her face in her hands while she looked fearful.

  “You will share a first dance with your fiancé, child,” warned Boreas.

  “I will not,” Elle replied, her glare intensifying. “I will not hold his hand, I will not dance with him, and most of all, I will not marry Jack Frost!” she shouted, hoping her feelings were finally understood.

  No one in the room spoke—or perhaps even breathed—as they watched Elle with wonder. Jack stood nearby, but he was uncharacteristically quiet as he watched her. Maybe he was smirking, but Elle wasn’t looking at him to know for cert
ain. After a moment of surprised silence, Boreas grit his teeth, his hand clutching his icy scepter. “You have no choice in this matter. It is your destiny.”

  Elle ignored Apollo’s attempt to come forward. She was tired of these strangers telling her who she was and what she needed to do. She back stepped, shaking her dark head adamantly. “I said no. I don’t want to marry Jack, and he doesn’t want to marry me! Find someone else to do it!” The flames on Elle’s hands were back, flickering brighter the angrier she became.

  Boreas glowered. “You will show me respect or I shall make you suffer!”

  “How are you going to make me suffer?” Elle laughed cruelly. “Are you going to kidnap me? Hold me against my will on my birthday? Force me to marry someone I don’t love? Oh, I guess not. Because you’re already doing that!”

  “My family and I have provided you with nothing but absolute luxury,” Boreas replied coldly. “You will show respect to your future father-in-law, or you will be punished for this tantrum.”

  “Like I said, I’m already in hell. It can’t get any worse,” Elle sneered with as much venom as she could muster.

  “You do not know the definition of such a place, Evangeline,” Jack mused, his eyes still watching Elle with a rather uncaring expression.

  Elle finally returned his gaze, a murderous glare etched on her face.

  “I’m being held against my will and being forced to marry the monster who took away my only parent. Hell is the only possible explanation for where I am,” Elle spat.

  She did not get to say anything else or get to see if her words affected her monster of a fiancé. Elle suddenly had a swarm of guards from winter’s throne coming forward. Three large men dressed in uniforms surrounded her. Given her hands no longer had flames dancing across them, she was safe to slip handcuffs onto. Despite Elle’s protests and grunts of frustration, no one came to help her. Apollo, Khione, and Hermes watched with saddened expressions but did not seem able to assist her. She was alone as she was dragged to the dungeons.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elle found Boreas had been accurate in his declaration that she had been provided nothing but luxury up until that point. Elle was brought into a large, white room with nothing inside of it except a small cot, a toilet, and a working sink. The dungeon was not dark and dreary as one might suspect a dungeon to be.

  Instead, it reminded Elle of solitary confinement. She was inside a room with no windows, no door with bars, only a solid white door that had no door handle on the inside. A gleaming white covered all four walls. It was not a dreary place, but it was not homey. To Elle, it felt like an isolation ward. The only place to exit was the large door in the far corner of the room. Unfortunately, no matter how many times Elle tried hitting and kicking it, nothing happened.

  During the first day of confinement, Elle attempted every means possible to escape. She even checked for a secret exit in the room that did not exist. Three square meals a day were brought to her. Even though she wanted to go on a hunger strike, the food smelled and looked too delicious to pass up. Elle’s trying to escape while a guard brought in her tray was pointless. While she ran past the elfish guard for the exit, another burly elf took his place to easily outmaneuver her. On her second day in confinement, Elle slept in most of the morning.

  She daydreamed of ways to escape once she somehow managed to escape the dungeon. The rest of the day brought another unsuccessful attempt at escape when food came. After that, Elle stared at the wall for a few hours until it was dinner time. She made yet another attempt to sprint from the room when the servant brought food only to be grabbed by her hair and dragged back to her dungeon by a large guard. That night, Elle cried herself to sleep. She was beginning to think she would never escape the dungeon, let alone the North Pole. On the third morning in the dungeon, something strange was on the floor when she pulled herself up from her cot.

  Books.

  At least twelve or more books were stacked high at the foot of her cot. Elle couldn’t find herself caring who had dropped them off. She was merely mesmerized at seeing something real and touchable that wasn’t shiny white walls or plain white sheets on her small, uncomfortable cot. Elle practically threw herself at the books to get her mind away from her predicament. She quickly found almost all of the books had a similar theme. Mythology. Greek, Norse, Chinese, Slavic, and French folklore. Elle couldn’t tell how many hours passed as she read. She didn’t eat her breakfast or lunch because she was engaged with the stories. It was realizing they were no longer myth but history that held Elle captivated.

  On day four of confinement, Elle awoke to find there were new sources of entertainment in the room. Puzzles, more books, and even her iPod and headphones from back home. Even though she wanted to ask the guard who had brought them, Elle also did not wish for her entertainment to be taken away by questioning anyone. She assumed it was Apollo. For the rest of the fourth day, Elle buried herself into the mythology books while listening to her familiar music from home.

  By the time her fifth day of confinement arrived, Elle found her dungeon was no longer isolation as it was a much-needed break from her abductors.

  She enjoyed not seeing her fiancé or his family. She had the same enjoyment for all of day six as well. As guards came to collect Elle to take her back to her intended bedroom on day seven, Elle was actually disappointed.

  After she was brought back to her chambers, she was swiftly dressed for the day by her castle keepers. A cream gown that hugged Elle’s curves but was loose around her legs was given to her. She was also provided royal jewelry. Iridescent bangles, necklaces, and earrings were given to her, but Elle didn’t care to wear them. She cast them aside on her dresser, uncaring of how expensive they must have been. Fancy jewels did not take away that she was being held captive.

  As she attempted to get back into the vibe of reading yet another mythology book, her thoughts turned to what the friendly Hermes had said. If her father had been poisoned, there was a very good chance someone here poisoned him. Could it have been the old king who wished to make Elle his daughter-in-law? Killing off Matthew Darrow would make sense. Boreas was therefore taking away the one person who wished to keep Elle from marrying the horrible Jack Frost.

  Why Elle was hesitant to believe the killers to be Jack’s brothers was simple; it wouldn’t make sense for them to kill off Matthew. Why would they not just kill Elle to make sure the prophecy couldn’t be fulfilled?

  It had to be Boreas, if not Jack.

  “Milady, ’tis time for breakfast!”

  Elle rolled her eyes at her castle keeper at the door. There was no way she was going to willingly spend a moment around Boreas. Not after he locked her away in confinement for a week. “I’m not hungry,” Elle said loudly, feeling happy as she locked the door to prevent the hook-nosed woman from entering.

  “Please, milady, you must have breakfast with your fiancé!”

  Elle silently seethed as she crossed her arms. “I’d rather go back to confinement than spend even one moment with Prince Frostbite!”

  “Prince Frostbite?” a velvety voice mused thoughtfully. “That’s a very interesting name, Letter, truly.” Jack nodded seriously, having appeared out of thin air near the window. He was dressed in his regular navy blue attire, causing Elle to wonder if the guy owned any other clothing. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased your vocabulary seems to be expanding upon your return from the dungeons, but you might wish to tone down nicknaming people based on their immortal abilities. You seem to forget there are a lot of negative concoctions available for a ball of fire such as yourself.”

  “Ohhh, look, Frosty the Snowman has arrived,” Elle mocked, glaring. She no longer held fear over her supposed fiancé. Elle now knew he couldn’t lay a finger on her in the castle of Boreas.

  A sinister smirk lit up Jack’s handsome features. “How was solitary confinement? Are you over your nasty little temper tantrum?”

  “Why don’t you go find a pole to lick?” Elle suggested
happily. “You know, since you’re a talking Popsicle.”

  “Careful, child, your immaturity is showing,” Jack drawled, narrowing his two grey eyes.

  Elle said nothing. She allowed her steady glare to speak for her.

  After a moment of silence where Jack seemed intent not to speak, Elle scowled. “Get out. Flicker out of the room, use the door, I don’t care. I’m not eating with you.”

  “How precious,” Jack mocked. “Yet again you seem to believe you have a choice in something you do not wish to do.”

  Before Elle even knew what was happening, she was suddenly transported to a familiar-looking throne room before she was shoved to the floor. Traveling by two-second air was definitely something she would never get used to. Staring up from her spot on the cold floor, she saw Jack was smirking as he crossed his arms.

  Scowling, Elle stood then shoved Jack. “What the heck crawled up your butt and laid eggs? I mean, honestly…you have some serious issues you need to work out, and—”

  “SILENCE!” King Boreas boomed, striking his staff against the marble floor beneath him.

  It was then that Elle noticed there was a rather long table filled with enough food to keep the homeless shelter back home supplied for an entire week. Hams and bacon flooded certain areas while different types of breads were on plates all the across the winter-themed table. There were muffins galore…from sesame seed, banana, and blueberry to chocolate chip. Elle’s mouth started watering as she took in the large crystallized pitchers filled to the brim with what looked like lemonade and other juices. There were so many types of breakfast foods on the table, Elle was certain she had never seen so much food in all her life.

  Her thoughts sadly returned to the homeless shelter and how much a meal like this would benefit the folks down there for a long time. There was no way the gods and goddesses seated at the table would finish this lavish meal set out for them.