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Betrothed To Jack Frost Box Set

Page 20

by Alex Gedgaudas


  “Voluptas,” said Elle, the mere thought of the goddess making her want to roll her eyes.

  Apollo started to laugh gently as he tilted his head down to stare at her. “You think Jack is in love with Cupid’s daughter?”

  “You weren’t accidentally in his room the day Voluptas started stripping for him,” Elle groaned, her grip on Apollo tightening. “He was all over her!”

  “In his defense, he’s been plenty unattached for centuries, and Voluptas throws herself at everyone—god or goddess.”

  Elle’s face scrunched up as she thought about Voluptas throwing herself at everyone she came across. “The diseases,” she mused.

  A low rumble of a laugh issued from his chest as Apollo laughed. “Immortals don’t get diseases.”

  “My point…” Elle said, playfully swatting his shoulder before continuing to hold her grip around his neck. “You can’t force two people to like each other. It doesn’t work like that.”

  Apollo looked on the verge of laughing. “So, am I to assume you would never hold on to Jack like this?”

  Elle’s thoughts drifted to once again thinking this was a different side of Apollo than what she was used to. He wasn’t always so vocal with his humor…

  A wry smile soon lit up Apollo’s features as he grinned down at her. “You hesitated,” he accused with a smirk.

  “I did not!”

  “You did too,” he said, sounding smug. Why he was smug, Elle had no idea.

  “No. Not in a million years. Besides, he’s a god!”

  “Demigod turned god, but yes. So are you. One day you shall be a full-fledged goddess. Your point?”

  “I can’t marry him. I don’t love him, let alone like him, and to top that, Jack’s crazy.”

  “That’s your best reasoning?” Apollo asked, smirking. He leaned down to bring his lips to hover next to Elle’s ear. Again, a strange familiar feeling overwhelmed Elle as she felt the chilly breath beside her earlobe. “But sweetheart, it’s the crazy ones who have the most fun in life…” he murmured seductively.

  “Would you do it?” Elle quietly pushed. “Marry someone just because you were told it’s what you had to do? I…I agree with Jack. He’s right to think this whole thing is ridiculous. I just wish he’d realize that I hate this for both of us and I want out as much as he does,” said Elle quietly.

  Apollo diverted his eyes away from her. He stared blankly into space while he seemed lost in thought. His brows knitted together as his lips pressed together to form a tight line. Elle realized something as she watched him. She did not want to be twenty-one and still never having felt her first kiss. She did not want to marry a stranger before never having her own free will to kiss someone.

  Elle could feel her body trembling as she thought about doing something really impulsive. It was crazy to kiss Apollo even as she thought about it. Her legs trembled with quaky fear as she thought about what it would be like if she simply tilted her head up and pressed her mouth against the lips of her previous best friend.

  Apollo looked down at her with a frown. “Your heart…I can hear the strong beat hammering back and forth.”

  Swallowing her fear, Elle stood a little taller so she could stare in his eyes. She slowly leaned her lips toward his, only for him to gently shake his head down at her. “You’re going to want to trust me when I say you really shouldn’t do that.”

  Elle tried not to let it show how much that small rejection hurt. “Why not?” she asked, disappointed that she sounded let down.

  Apollo gently shook his head as Elle slowly leaned her lips closer to his. “I’m not the man you think I am,” he quietly admitted, his cool breath fanning her face from how close they were.

  Elle felt incredibly let down by that comment. “I know you lied, but I care about you anyway…”

  Apollo gently shook his head. “Believe me, you wouldn’t be leaning forward if… Trust me when I say you shouldn’t do it,” he said, closing his eyes tiredly.

  “No. I don’t care who you are. I care about you.”

  “No, no, you don’t. This got out of hand really fast,” he muttered, shaking his head adamantly. “Look, here’s something you need to know. Immortals have great manipulation tactics,” Apollo said, avoiding her eyes. “We can appear as others. We do it in order to lead someone to something, to not scare them with our true form, and sometimes, we do just because we want to dig information out of someone. It’s trickery, an illusion. We’ll use a form we know someone will trust to get the job done,” he finished quietly.

  “That’s the best you can do, really?” Elle asked, frowning. “You’re not who you say you are? Let me guess, you’re just going to now reveal your true form to show me how entirely serious you are?” she snorted.

  “Something like that.”

  Elle sighed. “Just say you’ll never like me and be done with it. Really, it’s not that hard.”

  A devious smirk crossed his lips. “Fine, I don’t like you,” he said. His smirk dropped at Elle’s sudden smile. “And what are you grinning at?”

  “The way you’re looking at me and hugging me says otherwise,” she said quietly, feeling her cheeks warm with a fresh blush. This was the most nervous she had ever been. Taking a small breath, Elle decided to stay brave. “I don’t think you want to like me, but I don’t think you can fight this…” she said in a small voice, feeling more nervous than ever before. She was more terrified in this moment than when she was inside the arena running from the wives of Zetes.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re quite the stubborn individual?”

  Elle near grinned. “Hey, don’t judge. It’s one of my best qualities.”

  “It’s a terrible idea, okay?” Apollo watched Elle for a very long time. His arms tightened around her as he seemed to be considering something. “Close your eyes,” he instructed quietly, unblinking. He looked serious. Elle did as she was told. After a very long moment, a familiar voice sighed from a few centimeters from her face. “Open them.”

  Elle gave a slight jump as she saw Jack Frost’s pale face staring back at her. His frosted white hair was incredibly messy, and his grey eyes were unblinking as he looked down at her. He was handsome; that much had to be said about him. Elle shivered gently. She learned to equate Jack Frost’s beautifully pale face to fear. Her hands clenched together as she kept them tight around his neck.

  “Are you afraid?” he said, looking and sounding amazingly like the real Jack Frost.

  He was trying to scare her out of doing this. Or…was he?

  Maybe her earlier instincts that this was Jack she was conversing with had been accurate the entire time. Ignoring the overwhelming goosebumps tickling her arms and every rational thought telling her not to push it, Elle leaned up and forward, uncaring that the man she wanted to kiss currently looked like the man who previously wanted to kill her. A morbid curiosity to kiss the man who had previously wished her dead filled her. At the moment, Elle didn’t know whether it was Apollo pretending to be Jack, but she also didn’t find herself caring.

  Elle tilted her head gently, her nose sliding past his before she slowly pressed their mouths together. The kiss was feather-light, a soft tingling sensation striking from the moment their lips touched. The kiss was sweet. Apollo pulled his head away, staring down at Elle with a strange look to him.

  Elle watched the beautifully pale lips in front of her, feeling very unsure about the situation. The kiss was brief but amazingly butterfly inducing. The line was becoming quite blurred for Elle. She was silently realizing she didn’t know mentally who she thought she was kissing right now—Apollo or Jack. Worse, she couldn’t find herself truly minding if it was Jack.

  “This is strange,” said the Jack lookalike quietly, his angelically pale face pulling into a frown. Elle trembled lightly as his grey eyes flickered to her lips and then her eyes.

  “May I?” he asked politely.

  Elle leaned forward to kiss him as her response. Soon the kiss strengthened; his ha
nds snaked up Elle’s sides to hold her in place as he leaned forward to press his mouth against hers yet again. This time, he put forth effort into kissing her back.

  Elle had never felt this bizarre experience of having someone else’s lips crash against hers. She never felt such a rush of feelings. Instinct told her to close her eyes and gently remove her hands from his neck to run through his feather-soft hair. Goosebumps tickled Elle’s arms while the little hairs on the back of her neck stood erect. The kiss was freezing and passionate and glorious all in one. Elle slowly continued to kiss him back. It seemed even though he was more forceful, he was going deliberately slow-paced as to not frighten her.

  What caused goosebumps to tickle her spine yet again was realizing it was the kissing in general that was making her chilly. “You’re so cold,” said Elle softly, kissing his now-slightly-swollen bottom lip once more.

  “It’s not nice to name call.” He smiled wryly, kissing her gently. Elle smiled against his lips as she kissed him once again. After a moment, they stopped to watch each other carefully. Elle hadn’t noticed when he transported their positions to press her against a nearby wall. She was so distracted with the soft movement of his lips against hers, she barely paid attention to the soft transfer. They slowly caught their individual breaths as Elle really took a good look at him.

  “How…” she said in amazement, squinting as she tried to get a good look at him even though it was dark.

  “I’m just that talented,” he teased, tossing her the softest of winks. His grey orbs lingered on her lips before moving back up to watch her eyes.

  Elle giggled gently before shaking her head. “No…” She struggled to find her thoughts. “Is this part of being a god? Can you make yourself appear as another god at will, or is it a work in practice kind of thing?”

  The man before her raised an eyebrow, suddenly understanding what it was she was implying.

  “Exactly who is it you believe me to be?”

  “I’m not sure I know anymore,” she admitted.

  “Are you afraid?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that.

  A sharp knocking suddenly sounded on the door, causing Elle to jump in surprise. She realized that she was actually back inside her winter-themed bedroom this entire time as she took a look around.

  “Elle, could we talk, please?”

  Any color that was left in Elle’s face suddenly vanished. She knew that voice. Instant recognition was made. It was the voice of the man whose neck her arms were supposed to be wrapped around. “Apollo?” said Elle, looking for strict clarification as to who was behind the large doors.

  “Or Aiden. You can call me whatever you want, Ells,” Apollo’s voice answered behind the doors.

  Elle stared at the large white doors, silently hating herself. She should have listened to instinct. That was the voice of the man who she was supposed to have just been sharing her first kiss with. Elle watched the door with wide eyes. If Apollo was knocking on the door to her room, that meant it wasn’t actually him she had been kissing. Elle very slowly swiveled her head to stare up at the man she was still holding onto. Jack Frost was silently watching her. He stared down at her with his incredibly deep grey eyes, an eyebrow arched in a playful manner. His arms were still gently holding her waist, a small smirk playing at the corner of his pale lips.

  Elle’s mouth was parted in shock, and she watched him watch her. Jack slowly leaned his head close to her ear, sending a soft shiver down her spine by the coolness radiating from his body. “How about now, Letter? Are you afraid now?”

  Elle couldn’t say anything as all intelligent responses locked in her throat. She watched as Jack suddenly vanished, a ghostly chuckle left in his wake. “Yes,” she admitted breathlessly to the now-empty room. Elle was afraid that she had developed genuine feelings for Jack.

  Chapter 1

  Jack Frost tricked her.

  Or did he?

  Elle certainly felt she was conscious of her decision to kiss the man the night before. Surely she couldn’t genuinely be surprised she had kissed Jack and not Apollo. In actuality, she should have known it wasn’t Apollo. The signs were plenty there. Jack Frost had played around with the same kind of trick during the trip down memory lane. He deceived her by portraying himself as a small child; how did Elle not know he was deceiving her yet again?

  Or—even more frightening—did Elle want the kiss to happen? Maybe it was morbid curiosity that inspired her to kiss Jack. He was her fiancé, after all.

  The night before, Elle had slowly opened the doors exiting her room to find the true Apollo standing outside of it. He explained how he wanted to talk to her, but Elle slammed the door in his face before he could really say anything. She was too mortified to even look at him, let alone speak with him.

  In a way, Elle felt she betrayed him. She should have known Jack was impersonating him. Apollo’s sense of humor, his smell, the coolness radiating from his body…all of those things did not belong to the god of light. Those traits specifically belonged to Jack Frost alone.

  The next day, Elle did not get out of bed. She kept her bedroom door locked while barking out nasty words to anyone who dared disturb her. Elle had to hold her hands up to keep them from burning down the bedroom. Her hands had ignited during the night—one wrong move and she could probably set the furniture afire accidentally. A lot of the tables and chairs were made of very old-looking wood. One little spark could light it all up. Keeping her hands specifically away from her body so as not to catch her dress on fire, Elle spent her morning trying to remain calm while she inwardly panicked. She felt something during the kiss. And again during the next one. There were too many emotions that came attached with the kiss not to consider it a real and genuine moment. There were butterflies, there was closeness, and there was desire for another kiss each time one finished.

  “I hate him!” Elle groaned, sitting on the floor. She tucked her knees into her chest while keeping her flaming hands in the air.

  “Hey, c’mon, I’m not so bad once you get to know me.”

  Elle’s head snapped up to see Hermes standing idly by the large doors leading into her room. Her jaw clenched. “Do you knock or just pop in without any care?”

  Today, the young-looking god was dressed in simple jeans and a random black band shirt. Golden high-top sneakers with wings on the ends covered his feet. His shaggy blond hair was a mess as he bounced from foot to foot in what appeared to be good spirits. Elle thought Hermes gave off more of the appearance of a high school senior strung out on too much caffeine than he did a couple thousand-year-old god. “Most of the time, the latter,” Hermes admitted in a sheepish voice. He cleared his throat. “I’m here to get you out of the palace today!”

  “Do I get to go home?” said Elle, her hopes daring to lift.

  Hermes looked a tad awkward. “Uh…well, no…I have been warned not to attempt such a thing.”

  “Then please go away and allow me to continue to mope.”

  Hermes groaned. “C’mon, no one can stay too long around this family without wanting to rip their hair out.”

  Elle adamantly shook her head. “I’ve been eating with those people, doing their courtesy lessons, and I’ve been allowing them to dress me up as Greek Empire Barbie. Right now, I’m really not in the mood to go anywhere they could possibly be. I’m not leaving this room. Besides, there are lions out there! That’s not metaphoric for anything, either. There is a genuine lion out there!”

  “Oh, you met Oritya’s pet Nemean cub?” Hermes interrupted, whistling. “I’m surprised the great white witch actually allowed you to escape her bedroom unscathed.”

  Elle tilted her head up to watch him. “It wasn’t in her room. It was out in the hallway looking to eat me. I could’ve died!”

  Hermes frowned. “Damn, someone really doesn’t like you. That beasty specifically resides in Oritya’s wing of the palace alone. It’s trained. The only reason it would be trying to randomly eat you was if someone told
it to…”

  It was Elle’s irritated scowl that caused him to shoot her a double thumbs up. “Sorry, stated the obvious, didn’t I? Anyhow, as your godfather, I have to put my foot down…” he warned, lifting his leg up in the air. “You need to have a little fun. Staying here and being all gloom and doom is only going to make you as bitter as the people who live here.”

  Elle noticed her hands had extinguished their flames during some point of this oddball conversation. She slowly pulled herself up from the floor. “No, thank you. Besides, I don’t even know that you’re really you,” she said, watching the young god warily. How could she really know this wasn’t Jack yet again tricking her?

  Hermes looked puzzled. “Who else would I be?”

  “Jack Frost,” said Elle through gritted teeth.

  Hermes gave a guffaw of a laugh. “Oh c’mon. I don’t have frostbite or a severely negative outlook on life. Plus, I couldn’t fake the amount of cray-cray that guy holds.”

  Elle watched the young immortal curiously. Perhaps he had a point. From what little she had learned of her husband-to-be, Elle found he had low tolerance for Hermes’s jubilant nature. Jack Frost could hardly pull off the lovable and carefree behavior that Hermes possessed. It was his wording that she found funny. “How do you manage to look and speak like anyone from my generation? Shouldn’t you be a little more…”

  “Godly?” Hermes interjected, grinning. “Yep. But I’m the god of Travel, along with being the messenger for all gods. I spend more time around mortals than a vast majority of other immortals. I’m more in tune to knowing the culture of humans than, say, my father or Hera,” he finished, biting his upper lip. “C’mon, let me take you out for some fun!”

  “Unless your idea of fun is watching someone punch Jack Frost over and over again, I’m not interested,” Elle admitted quietly, her gloomy thoughts returning. She was once again feeling horribly violated over Jack’s trickery. She kissed him.

  Hermes’s dirty-blond head perked up. “Oh, so you already know we’re gonna go watch Jack’s turn in the arena?” Elle didn’t know what to make of that question, so she watched Hermes, confused. The young looking immortal lowered his foot and stomped it on the ground as if to express a point. “See, look at that, the foot is down. I repeat, the foot is down; let’s go!” He grinned.

 

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