“Would you like third degree burns? Because I’ve fairly recently discovered I can provide those to the individuals who annoy me,” said Elle, not looking at him as she used a gauze pad and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide to clean the cut. “Why do you have a first aid kit, anyway?”
“Apparently for moments such as this,” muttered Jack. Elle ignored his sour tone as she wiped away the fresh blood. It was looking at Jack that Elle saw how positively tired he looked. His horribly scratched and bruised body was not healing, and even the smallest of movements seemed painful to him. Looking Jack in the eyes, Elle could see how utterly vulnerable he looked. “Let me guess, you have no idea what you are doing.”
Elle sighed as she got started. “My friend Aiden—er, well, Apollo—one summer taught me how to place makeshift stitches.” Elle unwound the thread and soon laced the needle, snorting as she cut the thread. “I guess I was pretty stupid for not figuring out I was in the presence of the great and almighty Lord Apollo. Even at fifteen, it was scary how well the guy could place in stitches. He had more expertise than a certified doctor.”
“Were you on the receiving end of his expertise?” asked Jack, frowning.
“No, my grandpa was trying to build his own lawn mower.” Elle smiled at the memory as she overlooked the cut over Jack’s eye. “Suffice to say, he should’ve just bought a new one.”
“Was it a serious injury?”
“He had a cut as long as his finger. Deep too,” said Elle as she made the first loop through Jack’s cold skin. He softly winced but did not make a sound. “My grandma could swear she saw the bone. Apollo had been with me studying that day. He quickly went to help my grandpa, and by the time my grandmother quit panicking enough to get the car keys to go to the ER, Apollo showed her the wound wasn’t that bad. He claimed all that was needed were just three stitches.”
“The cheater healed the human wound,” said Jack with a knowing grin.
“Probably. But he used that moment to teach me how to place stitches,” said Elle as she quickly finished the third loop. She next worked on tying her loops.
“My friend Lucy would come over and together we would use what Apollo taught me to seal loops in oranges as practice. It drove my grandma crazy finding fruit with long strings sewn through them,” Elle laughed.
“Your female friend wishes to be a healer?”
Elle grinned at Jack’s question. “Heck no. Lucy squirms and nearly faints when she sees the tiniest drop of blood. We just learned because we wanted to be lifeguards, but we needed CPR and first aid experience. Really, this story was to slowly distract you from realizing what I was doing up until I was done.” She smiled as she finished.
As soon as she finished tying up the stitches and cutting the string, Jack took a pale finger to gently glide across her handy work. “Barely felt it.” He nodded in approval.
“You can thank the god partially known for healing for that.”
Jack snorted. “I would rather not; I don’t particularly like Apollo.” Elle took a piece of gauze and started to wipe the large cut across Jack’s marbled chest. A cold hand suddenly snatched her warm one. “I can handle that wound,” he said, not providing her eye contact.
Elle stepped away, allowing him to stand and head over to the sink to clean his gruesome-looking slash. “So what do we do now?”
Jack did not look at her. “We do nothing. I held no hand in my father’s death, and neither did you. The very best either of us can do is wait this out.”
“Wait this out? But people want us dead or captured!”
Jack turned to look at her. His bloody wound was quite evident on his chest even as he washed away the blood. “I’m quite aware of the predicament.” Nothing more was said as he went back to wiping away the spilled blood. As Elle slowly made her way to where he stood, Jack spoke up. “I apologize,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
Jack turned to stare at her incredulously. “I dropped you into your realm not thinking that anything other than winter’s throne would attempt to reclaim you. By the time I heard of my father’s passing along with the bounty on your head, I couldn’t find you.”
A realization dawned on Elle. “You’re the one who sent Hermes to find me.” She smiled gently.
Jack nodded. “He may be a fool, but he is talented at finding a soul.” It was as Elle gently placed her hand on his arm to rub it, Jack immediately tensed before pulling away. “I do not wish to be touched.”
“Are you in that much pain?”
“No, I simply do not want you to touch me.”
His gruff tone hurt Elle to hear. “Why not?” She cringed thinking how pitiful and childish her words sounded.
Jack turned to analyze her, shaking his head softly. He looked as though he pitied her. “You and I are a terrible match. Your…‘Pele,’” he corrected, careful not to use the word mother, “was not wrong. Nothing good comes from us being together, let alone marrying.”
His certain tone just made his words hurt more.
Elle tried to hide her hurt. “I thought you would rather lose your father’s throne than lose me?” She swallowed the lump in her throat that rose. “Is that now not true?”
Jack did not look her in the eyes as he chose his words carefully. “You and I would bring more sorrow to the other’s existence than joy. ’Tis better to end things now before we care too deeply.”
It felt as though a jagged knife had been placed into her emotions. Perhaps he made a point, but Elle found no joy in the mere thought of not being with him. “You’re too late,” she said in a small voice. Her next words felt too true. “I already care too deeply.”
Jack did not look at her as he finished dressing his wounds. “The bedroom off the right is yours,” he finally said, ignoring her remark. “I recommend we stay here for the night while a plan is formulated.”
Elle felt determined not to let her eyes water in front of him. It hurt to know he did not care to talk about this. “Maybe you should have thought things through before you ever let feelings escalate between us,” said Elle in a trembling voice. “Before we ever kissed, before you ever saved me, and that night we first met. Hell, maybe you would feel better had you followed through with killing me that night we first met.”
“I don’t regret my not killing you, nor do I regret the brief time I felt we may work romantically,” said Jack in a leveled voice. “My opinion has simply changed.”
“You’re a coward,” Elle accused softly, unable to look at him.
Jack showed no emotion at this accusation. “Think what you must to provide yourself comfort.”
After a moment, Elle released a dry laughter. “You want to know why I think you’re a coward?” she asked quietly, moving closer to make it unable for him to look anywhere than at her.
“I’m certain you will be explaining even if I do not ask for an elaboration,” said Jack coolly.
Elle glared. “You want me to absolutely hate you. At first, I couldn’t quite grasp why you would want that, but now I do. You’re absolutely afraid of me. You hide behind sarcastic commentary and petty remarks along with treating me horribly because you’re afraid of what would happen if that prophecy was accurate and you and I were meant to be.”
“Really?” questioned Jack, a hollow laughter escaping him. “Intimacy issues? Is that the best reasoning you have, kitten?”
Elle laughed without humor. “You like to call me that, but the only one who seems to be a little frightened kitten is you, Jack.”
“Frightened? Try realistic,” he sneered in retaliation. “Pele was not wrong. You are scheduled to die one day, Evangeline. It all starts the moment you marry me. Choosing not to be together is sparing your life. I am doing you a kindness.”
“THE PROPHECY IS JUST A BUNCH OF WORDS!” Elle fired back angrily. “It could have a double meaning or it could mean nothing at all!” Jack could not seem to be able to look at her, only inspiring Elle to continue. “Is that why you’re doing this? You thi
nk one day that prophecy is going to be right and I’ll just die?”
“FINALLY!” said Jack cruelly, his eyes blazing. “You now seem to be grasping my two hundred years of utter frustration. The great prophecy that brings together fire and ice is only to bring us together to create a CHILD. You and I were never meant for a happily-ever-after, my dear. We are both irrelevant. That damn child is the sole reason all of this is going on. HUNDREDS of years’ worth of waiting for you and I don’t even get to keep you,” he said coldly. “You’re only alive for me to create a baby with.” He nodded, his expression holding a certain type of loathing.
Elle could see the pain behind his eyes, and the utter despair. She could only find two words to express her thoughts. “You’re wrong,” she accused, crossing her arms.
“Marvelous retort,” he mocked.
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe Pele. I don’t believe in these ridiculous prophecies. So three spinsters calling themselves fate dictate everyone’s fate hundreds or thousands of years in advance? There’s no free choice? It’s all just written out for us like a pre-written book?”
Jack stuck his tongue into his cheek, nodding. “The sooner you realize that, the happier you’ll be.”
“Every person born writes their own destiny, Jack,” Elle countered crossly. “We become what we do. There aren’t words, or an oracle, or anything else that dictates how our future will go. We decide ourselves on how our future turns out.”
Jack started to cackle with laughter. A deep heavy laughter that rumbled throughout his body, causing him to look quite humored by her words. He shook his frosted head, laughing incredibly loud. “We become what we do? You don’t have a choice when it comes to a prophecy that shares revelations of the future. The fact of the matter is quite simple, Evangeline. You love me, you die.”
“And if I’m already falling in love with you?” Elle challenged quietly. “What then?”
Jack’s lip curled. “Then that is your error. It was nice knowing you while you were among the living.”
That was the final kick to the gut that Elle needed to walk away. Jack watched her behind cold eyes, void of emotion. She could feel her eyes watering, but she already decided she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of him seeing her cry. Elle slowly shuffled toward her room.
She didn’t look back to him as she walked to the door. If she were honest, Elle didn’t know or even care if he was still in the room as she next spoke. “I don’t feel I’ve ever come across a sadder person,” she said quietly, entering the room. “Instead of doing what you wanted in life to be happy, you’ve actually spent centuries sitting around angry and resentful over some stupid prophecy that could very well hold little truth to it or it could mean nothing at all,” she said, turning around to find Jack was watching her with a clenched jaw. “Do you realize that? Decades and decades of hating me all for nothing,” she continued with misty eyes. Elle rubbed her forehead.
“If you would have bothered to even show me a shred of decency when I was first abducted, I would’ve married you just so you could make sure Oritya and your brothers didn’t take away something that was always meant to be yours.”
“Do you expect a thank you for your generosity?” said Jack with a cruel smile. He chuckled darkly. “Some individuals would simply take rejection and then walk away with what dignity they still held.”
Elle swallowed back the tears she held in her eyes as his rejection burned her on the inside.
Without another word, Elle retreated for the bedroom before locking it behind her.
Chapter 1
Long ago, Jack Frost grew accustomed to people ignoring him. His entire immortal life taught him that the love he experienced in the family he had with his mother, stepfather, and younger sister was never going to be repeated. With the exception of Boreas, no one in his immortal family cared for him. Even with the old man, Jack knew that care probably only held because he was his powerful heir. When it came to the rest of his family along with Winter’s Kingdom, Jack was known only as the bastard offspring of a great king. While he was the talk of the city for decades after Boreas accepted him into his home, Jack found living as a royal was not all it was cracked up to be. His brothers despised him. His stepmother wished him dead. His air-headed sister was oblivious to any family discord around her. Jack went through a vast majority of family dinners and gatherings being utterly ignored. No one truly cared for what he thought, and they cared even less about what he said unless it was some form of verbal sparring that offended one of them.
Jack had very few friends. Angel was probably his closest, followed by two sons of Poseidon. Still, Jack’s immortal friends had long ago accepted their own unfair fates thrust upon them centuries before. They did not understand Jack’s despair being betrothed to someone who was meant to die. They did not understand how broken-hearted he had felt knowing his wife was bound to carry his child before dying at the hands of her own sister. Jack’s friends had their own problems with engagements and parents who expected too much out of them. No one cared for what the Prince of Frost thought.
Immortal women often threw themselves at Jack purely for his godly good looks or because he was bound to be the future king. Harlots wished to bed him in hope that one day they may be a possible second or third wife or even a concubine. Still, no woman Jack had ever been with truly listened to him. Having been with Voluptas the longest, even she held no real care for his thoughts. She merely wished to become a concubine of a king. Jack always knew he would live his life alone.
Then came along Elle Darrow, who, strangely, listened to everything Jack said. She would watch him intently, always listening. She would reply and engage, but most importantly, she cared. She especially heard him the night before last; it was very last time Elle spoke to him. It had been almost two whole days since their argument, and Elle hadn’t spoken to Jack since.
It was not for lack of effort on his part. Jack had immediately regretted the cruel words he spoke the other night. The young woman had looked strangely heartbroken when he had callously spoke as though she were nothing more to him than a speck of dust.
It had been watching Elle’s eyes grow glossy with unshed tears as her bottom lip trembled that caused Jack to mentally curse himself six ways to the underworld. His words hit her hard and maybe even broke her a bit. She used to watch him with a certain awe behind her lovely brown orbs. Elle couldn’t seem to help her heart beating faster the moment Jack entered the room. Her body gave involuntary signs that showed off she either felt nervous or excited when he was close to her. Elle’s heart rate spiked, and a small glint of happiness showed behind her eyes.
That disappeared the night after their ugly fight when Jack said his hurtful words. He heard her crying a good majority of the night even as she tried muffling the sound by releasing her tears into a pillow. She fell asleep around five in the morning after exhaustion clearly won her over. The next day passed by horribly. Elle refused to speak to him. She ignored him when he cooked breakfast, refusing to come out of the bedroom even when he eventually popped in to question if she wanted anything. She said nothing to him, choosing instead to look out the large bedroom window to watch the falling snow outside. By lunch, Jack felt certain she would eat at least a sandwich. This was not the case. Elle curled herself up in a small ball on the bed, falling into a deep slumber. Jack didn’t push her to eat considering she hadn’t slept the majority of the night.
Later on that evening, he sucked up his pride to go and find something he had heard her speak fondly of: Chinese food. He managed not to be killed or threatened by any monsters in the journey to find the food.
Still, that delicacy of vegetable lo mein did nothing to pull Elle from her stony silence. Jack threatened she could not eat unless she spoke. Elle didn’t return his gaze or even reply to him. Instead, she simply went into the kitchen and collected herself a single green apple from a large bowl on the counter. Jack wanted to weakly mention the green were his favorite to start
conversation, but she then retreated back to the room. Elle locked the door behind her. The young woman knew full well that a locked door was similar to using a sheet of paper to stop Jack from entering, but that was not why she locked the door. Jack could tell it was simply for emphasis to show that she truly did not plan on speaking to him.
The next morning went by similarly. Jack attempted to talk to her regarding staying at the cabin for the next week to keep hiding. Since it was blessed by Zeus to grant secrecy to the occupants, no hell raiser or other monstrous individual would be able to track them down. Still, Elle ignored him. She stayed in her room, not caring to come out. When Jack came in to spy on her, he found she wore a tight-fitted t-shirt and the same jeans, and he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked in both immortal and mortal attire. Either fit her personality quite well. When he tried apologizing, Elle didn’t glance up to acknowledge him. She remained silent.
Later on that night, Jack’s patience was gone. He had accepted she didn’t wish to speak to him the previous day, but she was vastly immature if she didn’t say a thing to him today. Popping into the bedroom, Jack was going to give her a piece of his mind regarding her childish game. Right as he glared around the room trying to find the overgrown child, he found Elle reading a random book he had gotten back in the eighteenth century. It was in the massive pile of books he had kept in this particular bedroom. The book she read from regarded Egyptian mythology. Elle gently turned the page, not acknowledging Jack’s entrance yet again.
“What are you angry about?” Jack barked, mentally noting there was probably a thousand and one ways he could have broached the topic of her anger better. Elle said nothing in response as she quietly read. Jack glowered. “I’ve let you play your little game all day and all night. It’s time to communicate.”
The girl’s dark head slowly raised. She locked emotionless eyes on him. “Am I going home?”
This question took Jack by surprise. These were the first and only words she could speak to him? He scowled. “How in the Underworld would you manage to go home when individuals want us dead or captured?” His question went unanswered as Elle returned to her book.
Betrothed To Jack Frost Box Set Page 37