Betrothed To Jack Frost Box Set

by Alex Gedgaudas

  “I don’t have one.”

  “I always knew you were a weirdo,” Angel grunted. “Favorite food?”

  “Green apples.”

  “Okay, any food and/or drink tasting exclusively like green apples lately?”

  “Are we counting green apples?” Jack snorted.

  “No, we’re not.” Angel laughed.

  “No.”

  “Mmhmm,” Angel muttered, scribbling on his clipboard. “Do you feel the need to touch her when you’re close to her?”

  “Yes,” admitted Jack quietly. “Something’s wrong. I’m desiring to be near her all the time, even when she annoys me. That right there shows you that something is wrong. How about you make yourself useful and provide an antidote?”

  Angel snorted. “How about you stop telling me how to do my job and I won’t tell you how to make it snow?”

  “Next question, then.”

  “What odd conditions do you feel have sprung forward from this poisoning?” Angel asked professionally.

  Jack laughed dryly. “Along with the wanting to be near her, I’m finding myself quite defensive about her.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  Jack groaned lightly. “I’ve watched her sleep every night since she fought in the arena for a sparring session. Did you hear my words? I watch her sleep. Is that not incredibly disturbing? I’ve also taken to following her in case she does something stupid such as walk alone in places she shouldn’t.” He snickered. “I worry about what may be happening to her if I’m not around to watch over her. Honestly, this slight paranoia of making sure she doesn’t come to harm is really getting on my nerves. I can’t get her out of my mind.”

  Elle could feel her expression drop. Contrary to what books and movies proclaimed, the idea of being watched while sleeping and followed, in general, came off as not appealing in the slightest. But that did explain why Jack had been around when the lion chased her that one day; he was already following her.

  Angel snickered. “You know, man, that goes along the lines of stalking.”

  It was a low growl from Jack that caused Angel to laugh again. “How often do you want to be near her?”

  “I always want to be around her. I’ve found that every moment I’m not with her I’m thinking of excuses to see her again.”

  “Any other weird things you deem inappropriate to mean something is wrong?”

  Jack gave his familiar musical laughter. “I marked her neck with my mouth so another man would know she belongs to me alone. If that’s not possessive, I don’t know what is.”

  This statement caused Angel to give a loud bark of laughter. “Belongs to you, eh? Ha, ha! Oh Styx, I haven’t heard something so amusing in more than a fortnight…” He trailed off, cackling with a boisterous laughter.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s actually very funny,” Angel corrected. “I can’t remember a time where you’ve cared enough about a woman to make sure no other man touched her. I think this is a first, actually. You’ve never cared about anyone.”

  “Clearly I was drugged by your idiot father. Have you not been listening?” Jack hissed dangerously.

  “Oh, I’ve been listening. The problem is I’ve reached the same conclusion as I did with the girl. Neither of you were drugged or enchanted,” admitted Angel.

  “You’re gaming me.”

  “Seriously,” said Angel, losing his humorous tone. “I don’t side with Eros or Aphrodite taking away one’s freewill. It’s not the golden bow either, amigo. Being a god or demigod, you can’t be shot with an arrow without knowing it. Only mortals can be hit invisibly. You weren’t given pheromones or some type of potion to make you infatuated with her. Those mainly consist of lust. If it was purely lusting, you’d want to have your way with her without wanting or caring if she felt the same.”

  “Well, obviously it was something along those lines!” Jack argued. “I’m constantly fighting the urge to touch her!”

  “Have you considered that is because you care for her?” Angel snorted. “You don’t have to be poisoned to want to touch someone. Even a being void of any emotion such as yourself should know this.”

  “That’s not possible,” Jack answered in a near hostile tone.

  “Why not, Frosty? Ah, wait…I remember. You’re already betrothed to another. I suppose that makes your romance with this girl doomed.”

  “She’s the girl,” Jack snarled, causing Elle to flinch as she heard his teeth snap together. His tone was frightening.

  “Pardon?”

  “She’s the one from the prophecy,” Jack grunted, sounding like he was pacing the room. “My betrothed and the girl are one and the same,” he said bitterly.

  “The prophecy of fire and ice?” Angel asked with a snicker. “Ha! And she says your first encounter you tried to kill her. I’ve only heard you nagging about having to be married off to some stranger for the last century. What are you mad about? Shouldn’t you be enjoying the fact that you care for the girl?”

  “Wanting her physically doesn’t qualify as caring,” Jack replied coldly.

  “Sorry, amigo, but wanting her protected does. Caring for one’s well-being is a telltale sign that you weren’t poisoned, drugged, or arrow struck. Any of those would create mostly lust. You’re falling for her.”

  “Do you realize how juvenile you sound saying that?” Jack near growled. “You’re over five hundred years old. It’s infatuation because of the damn poison, nothing else.”

  “Why do you have such a problem with the idea of caring for her, amigo?” Angel asked quietly.

  “She’s not right in the head,” muttered Jack, causing the eavesdropping Elle to scowl heavily. “There’s something wrong with her.”

  Angel interrupted him by cackling with laughter. “Other than feeling attracted to the future king of frostbite, I’m not seeing what’s wrong with her.”

  Jack cut him off by issuing a low string of profanities in a different language. “I’ve done really twisted things to her, and do you want to know what her first instinct was when I messed around with her thoughts and brought her through a memory?”

  “What?”

  “She protected me,” said Jack, sounding deeply aggravated by his own comment.

  Elle could hear Angel give off a low snicker. “So there’s something wrong with her because she protected you. Do I have that right?”

  “She’s a mortal demigod, and she threw herself in the path of gods to protect me. Do you hear me? Mor-tal. She’s an extremely poor fighter even for a demigoddess. Honestly, I don’t think she could take on a bird if it started attacking her.”

  “So the reason you’re angry is because she’s too good for you?”

  “What! How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “You’re the one saying she’s messed up in the head for protecting your frozen butt. Given that statement, I’m assuming you don’t want to care for her ’cause you feel she’s too good for you.”

  “She’s thick in the head!” Jack protested in a heated whisper. “Only an idiot would think they could take on a god and actually win. She threw herself at two of them to stop an attack. To top that, the girl never knows when to shut up, and she doesn’t seem to believe in violence.”

  “Makes all the sense in the world.” Angel laughed, wreaking of sarcasm. “Frostbite actually fancies someone. That’s why you’re so angry.”

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your mouth,” Jack bit back venomously.

  “Ohh relax, mi amigo. If anything, I think you at least have the little sweetheart intrigued.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Angel chuckled. “She wouldn’t be eavesdropping on this conversation if she didn’t care what you thought.”

  Oh no. Elle barely had a moment to herself to think of those two little words before a very angry Jack Frost suddenly appeared in the hall, glaring down at her with a very irritated expression. With a pair of heavily chattering teeth, she sl
owly backed up only for Jack’s hand to roughly grasp hers in a tight clasp as his gray eyes held the utmost of anger. Within another quick moment, Jack was suddenly dragging her out of the temple, his freezing cold fingers tightly digging into the soft skin of her wrist. “Hey, stop!”

  They were now back at the palace.

  Jack ignored her plea as he forcefully led her around what appeared to be the Winter’s Kingdom once more. It was glancing down at her freezing cold wrist that caused Elle to release a small gasp. Jack’s hand was completely frozen over, his hand resembling sheer ice as his fingers dug into her wrist. The floors and walls were freezing over as well, making the hallway a frozen tunnel. Wiggling in a bid to free her wrist did nothing. Jack continued to drag Elle behind him, oblivious or just uncaring of her discomfort. It wasn’t until a sharp sizzling noise occurred, similar to how an egg would fry in a pan, that he paused. That alone caused Jack to swivel his frosted head to stare down at his hand clutching onto Elle.

  The noise continued to sound as it became evident what was causing the startling noise. While Jack’s hand resembled ice, Elle’s hand looked to be completely engulfed by fire. She couldn’t feel it. It didn’t scald her skin or cause any upset. The sizzling sound was now quite obvious; while Jack’s too cold hand touched the fire, a light steam issued as his and Elle’s hands touched. Jack slowly released Elle’s wrist, watching it with narrowed eyes. Elle watched her flaming hand carefully, amazed and terrified by what she saw all at once. Jack slowly brought his hand up, looking about to retract it. Before he could, Elle brought her still-aflame hand to his, intentionally touching it to hear the sizzling sound once more. Fizzle-pop-sssssssss.

  The noise at first was quiet, barely audible. A gentle cackling was heard next as Elle hovered her hand against the cold of his. Feeling a little more bravery as Jack’s angry expression was slowly evaporating, Elle pressed her hand a little more firmly against his. The sizzling sound grew louder as steam issued from the center, but it didn’t extinguish the ice or flames. Elle’s and Jack’s hands remained hovering against each other, neither one of them willing to break this strange yet compelling moment. Both fire and ice on their hands remained strong, causing the noise to continue the longer they held their palms flat together. Stepping closer, Elle took a breath as she entwined her fingers with his. Sizzles and cracks issued from the center along with steam, showing what happened when you combined fire and ice.

  Jack closed his eyes, heaving a heavy sigh. He didn’t say anything. Elle had no clue what he was feeling. There was no longer strong anger on him. Now, she couldn’t tell his expression, given his pale white eyelids were closed. Swallowing her strong fear and yet another feeling of warning telling her that it was a bad idea, Elle gently squeezed her hand against his. This small movement caused Jack’s jaw to snap tight. “Stop looking at me like that,” he said quietly, his eyes not opening.

  Elle carefully watched their hands slowly leave behind the fire and ice. Unintentionally, her fire extinguished the moment Jack’s hand returned to normal, almost as if instinct returned it to its natural form. Afraid to meet his gaze, Elle watched their hands. “How do you want me to look at you?”

  Jack seemed to consider this for a moment as his eyes flicked over from their clasped hands to Elle’s eyes. “I don’t want you looking at me as though I’m someone you can depend on.”

  He spoke in such a low tone, Elle had to work to hear his words. “Are you mad I overheard or mad that we’re not drugged?”

  “The latter,” he answered sardonically. “I was truly hoping we were poisoned and whatever this is between us was an illusion.” He did not elaborate as to why he wished such a thing. “I have places to be,” said Jack, turning on his heel. “Try not to get yourself killed off while I’m away.”

  Elle watched his retreating form, not quite knowing what to make of all the strange events of the day. She received full confirmation that in his strange little way, he cared about her. At the same time, that deeply aggravated him. Once again going against her better judgment, Elle spat out words she was thinking before Jack could vanish.

  “I want to thank you,” said Elle, digging deep for a fitting statement. “I really appreciate you making sure no one’s killed me…” She chuckled softly.

  “I suppose it’s the very least I can do as an apology, having tried to kill you myself,” said Jack quietly.

  “Well, you failed. That’s what counts,” joked Elle. “Will you be in my room tonight?” Elle was surprised she wasn’t afraid of him any longer.

  “After you are in a deep slumber, yes,” admitted Jack, not turning to look at her.

  “Goodnight, Jack,” Elle murmured, hurrying into the room before locking the door behind her. She didn’t want him to see the goofy smile plastered upon her face.

  ***

  Jack took a light sip from his goblet as his attention drifted from the dinner conversation. It was almost always tedious when his father and his queen were present. Conversation was either dull or non-existent. What Olympian was in trouble. What Zeus and Poseidon were arguing about. Hades’ impending divorce.

  The usual conversation lately was taking place at the table this evening; it was talk of how disrespectful the future queen of Winter’s throne was. Jack had grown used to his stepmother constantly taking verbal shots at Elle Darrow.

  Whether it be for her bluntness, scowling, or accent, it did not matter. Whatever the young woman did, it caused the Queen to loathe her just a little bit more. Oritya even complained of how the young Elle would refuse to have diamonds woven into her hair.

  The girl’s castle keepers could not hold their tongues when clucking over how odd the young woman was. They only contributed to the hatred of Elle shared by Oritya and the wives of Zetes.

  Elle adamantly denied having crystals and gold braided into her long brown locks and shot sarcastic words at anyone who tried to force her to do otherwise. Jack held respect for the mortal on a certain level; when the girl wanted something bad enough, she dug her heels in and would not budge. Even Jack felt the girl could possibly go back to her realm one day; she certainly wanted it bad enough.

  There wasn’t one day that Elle hadn’t adamantly proclaimed she wanted to go back to her home. Jack had heard stories over his two centuries. Future wives often gave in to the idea they were trapped fairly quick. Often enough, the women turned bitter, resentful, but they did not complain. They accepted the fate destiny had thrust upon them. Instead of complaint, usually women turned into Oritya: manipulative, hostile, and just all around ill-tempered. Not the young Elle. She seemed to hold onto her optimism that things shall one day go her way. Jack would never admit this to anyone, but he strongly admired the girl for her optimism.

  Down the table, Oriya started to go into heavy detail that Elle’s American accent made her more of a mutt in contrast to other half-breeds.

  Jack grinned. He positively relished that his betrothed was similar to him, an outcast. Disliked by the regal, proper members of his family, just like Jack had been for the last few centuries.

  Jack had always gotten under Oritya’s skin; how could he not? He was the bastard child of her husband. Instead of simply existing, Jack alone was granted the abilities of all things frost. From day one of being brought into his father’s kingdom, Oritya had been nothing but hostile. He eventually stopped back talking and showing similar hostile behavior toward his stepmother.

  It wasn’t that he learned to respect her; he merely came to a point where it no longer gave him joy to aggravate her. Leopards couldn’t change their spots. Oritya would never become a better person. Provoking the witch did not help him any. Jack started to believe that nothing and no one could irritate the living hell out of his stepmother more than he. Then along came Elle Darrow. With her came the naïve thinking that talking back to gods and goddesses was beneficial. ’Twas not. The girl had not yet realized that the gods had punished for things much more minor than a sarcastic tongue.

  “Then, the c
hild had the audacity to say she did not wish to learn which fork was used for scallions,” said Oritya hotly, causing Jack to smirk into his goblet as he took another sip. He did not quite understand what was so important the girl learn how to eat green onions with a certain fork. It would not kill any particular member of any royal dynasty if she were to eat scallions with any measly fork. The Chinese Dynasty used chopsticks to this day!

  Gods help him, Jack found he was becoming disgustingly fond of the mortal Elle as time passed. It was to the point of him hating how much she was growing on him. Elle was easily one of the most annoying individuals he had ever encountered, and that was saying a lot. Jack had spent the majority of his time around mortals, listening to them only grow more irritating as technology advances increased. Perhaps he should have paid Angel a bag of drachmas to examine him earlier.

  His old friend might have been vexed that there was no payment involved in the transaction and so he simply lied regarding the results of the exam. Jack grit his teeth together. His bitter thoughts were pointless. Angel was quite a few things, but a liar he was not. Knowing it wasn’t enchantment caused great inner turmoil in Jack—he desired the mortal.

  That was more frightening than being cursed or spelled. Curses could be broken. Actual feelings were harder. That was what was truly vexing him at the moment. How could someone such as he, who could so easily kill another being, fall victim to caring for someone? It did not make a bit of sense. Sure, Jack had had previous flings and women were all too willing to throw themselves at him, but not once had Jack ever cared to safeguard a woman’s room at night to be sure she was never in harm’s way. Then again, never had Jack had to worry about a woman being killed due to a throne controversy.

  “My son, are you paying attention to your mother’s conversation?” said Boreas, stroking his thick white beard with a large hand. The king sat on the farthest end of the table, his ancient baby-blue eyes boring into his youngest son in a curious manner.