Heart of Ice

by P. Jameson

She closed her eyes and went still, letting the feel of the rug invade her senses. Soft was okay. It was good. The longer she stood there, the better it felt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking it in,” she said without opening her eyes.

  “Oh.”

  She repeated the thought in her head. Soft is good, soft is good. Like when Marlee urged them to use their names instead of numbers. It had taken her a while to teach her brain to respond to it. It was why she repeated the dolls’ names in her head each time she was forced to call them by number.

  “Do you like it?” he asked quietly.

  “I think so.”

  She opened her eyes to find him staring at her intently. Like he’d follow her over a cliff to hear her next word.

  “Did you do this for me?”

  He pressed his lips together and gave her a nod. And somehow, that single admission made her entire chest go warm to the point of burning. It felt good. It hurt. It was more confusion, but she didn’t want it to stop either.

  “So you could sleep under the bed, where you feel safe, but without being on the floor,” he explained. He looked nervously away when she stayed silent. “Thought it would be warmer for you too since I can’t—”

  He cut off quickly and cleared his throat, jamming his hands in his pockets.

  “Can’t what?”

  He pulled one out and ran it roughly through his hair.

  “You hungry? Want me to get you something?”

  No. She wanted him to finish his thought. “Can’t what?”

  He shook his head.

  “Why won’t you tell me?”

  Monster sighed, finding her eyes again and locking on this time. “I don’t want to scare you away.”

  “And finishing that sentence will?”

  He gave her a solemn nod. “It might.”

  But she wasn’t that weak, was she? She’d stood up to Bastian, held her ground when he wanted to kill her. Whatever Monster had to say couldn’t be worse than that.

  Vegas tipped her chin up. “Try me.”

  She stepped closer, pushing her shoulders back like she’d done with Bastian.

  “Hold you,” Monster rumbled. “I can’t hold you.”

  Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

  “To… to keep you warm. So the damn rug will have to do.”

  And it was nice, but… his arms around her sounded better. What would that even feel like? To be held. To be cradled in strong arms. Held together like a broken keepsake, waiting for the glue to dry.

  Her throat ached with wanting to find out. Ached. As if she needed exactly what he described as much as she’d needed food the night before.

  Need him, a voice whispered in her mind. She hadn’t heard it since seeing Ratchet shift to fire. But here it was again.

  She ignored it, finding Monster’s eyes.

  “It doesn’t scare me.”

  He straightened as he stared down at her, looking pleased. And a thread of satisfaction wound through her, knowing she’d caused that.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  With that, Vegas went to the floor and slipped under the bed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  That stupid-as-fuck grin tugged at Monster’s lips again as he watched Vegas hide. This time on the rug he’d bought for her.

  She wasn’t scared. For now, at least.

  He let her words soak in, but he wasn’t done with her. There was one more thing he wanted to do tonight.

  “Vegas?”

  “Mm hm.”

  “You tired?”

  Long pause. “No.”

  “Wondering why you’re under the bed already then.”

  More empty space. “Where else would I go?”

  “I wanted to show you the kitchen. So you can find food even if I’m not around. We could cook something if you want.”

  Seconds ticked by and then she poked her head out to stare up at him.

  Goddamn, she was cute in his clothes and that curious expression.

  But he’d never admit thinking it out loud.

  He was weak enough without admitting what she did to him.

  “The only cooking I’ve ever done was product.”

  He squatted near her, keeping a safe distance. He didn’t want to send her back under the bed.

  “Mama Kitty mostly spoiled us with food. But I picked up a thing or two. I can make some mean scrambled eggs. I’ve got boxed macaroni down pat. And grilled cheese. And chocolate milk, but that’s not really cooking.”

  Her lips quirked upward. So faintly, he might have missed it if he wasn’t watching closely. “I’ve never had grilled cheese. And chocolate milk sounds good too.”

  He moved back to give her room. “Is that a yes?”

  Her eyes smiled more than her lips, but a smile was a smile, and he soaked it up like parched cotton.

  “Yes. But…” She crawled out and got to her feet. He followed her up.

  “What?”

  She met his gaze and this time he didn’t look away from her pretty eyes.

  She really was pretty, his mate. Too pretty for him. But if looking was all he ever did, he was going to look his fill.

  She sucked in an anxious breath. “I wanted to talk about last night.”

  And just like that, any warm feelings evaporated as what happened before came crashing back.

  “You don’t have to worry about that ever again. I told you, snowflake. I won’t touch you. You have my word.”

  “But that’s just it.” Her voice was small and shook. “I… I want to feel that again. I mean, if you wanted to. If you don’t, then I understand. But—”

  “Feel what, female?”

  Her eyes found his again, looking so shy it made his chest tight. “There was something. When we touched. Wasn’t there? Something… good. Did you feel it too?”

  Monster blinked long and hard. It was too difficult to keep her gaze. Not when she said things like that. Things he desperately wanted to hear. In the light of day, he couldn’t show her how much that simple touch had meant to him.

  “Yes,” he husked.

  “Yes?”

  He found her eyes again, ready to feed her more promises. Anything to make them okay.

  “That small touch will last me as long as it needs to. I won’t take chances with you.”

  “But I want to try it again. Don’t you?”

  Monster opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out.

  Slowly, she held out one shaking hand, pressing closer to his chest like she was going to touch him.

  Touch. Mate’s touch. His beast wanted it badly.

  He held as still as possible. If she was doing this, he couldn’t stop her. He would just hope like hell she didn’t regret it.

  But angry words from his childhood came back to him. Ugly words. Memories. Flashes of what it took to wreck him so thoroughly. Look at you now. You’re ruined. No one will want to touch you ever again.

  “Why?” he blurted, and she stopped, hand frozen between them. “Why do you want to touch me?”

  “Why did you want to touch me?” she countered.

  Monster stared hard. “Because I needed to. To make sure you were real and not a fucking dream. Because I had to keep from it all that time in the basement, when I wanted to comfort you, when you cried and I wanted to hold you through it. I couldn’t. I wanted to make up for all the times I scared you by showing you I could be careful too. But I fucked it up last night. It was too soon.”

  Shit. He shouldn’t have said all that.

  She wasn’t ready for the shit he felt inside. He wasn’t even ready for it. He’d always felt things too hard. Spent his entire youth trying to change it so he could survive this clan. Had finally created a mask so gruesome, no one could see how soft he was inside. And now… her.

  She was breaking him open, and it was a dangerous chance to take. What if his weakness was exposed and it ruined everything?

  “No one h
as ever cared about me,” she whispered. “But you do. And I don’t know why.”

  “Because you feel important to me. I know it’s not enough, but it’s the only explanation I have.”

  “Right now, it’s enough.”

  He swallowed that new ache in his throat. The one that he both loved and hated.

  But Vegas still moved closer, her hand still threatened to touch him. And she was going for his face.

  Fucking hell.

  Let mate touch.

  She wanted to. He could feel her desire in the air between them.

  But fuck, what if he crumbled under her hand? What if he ended up in a pile at her feet.

  So weak. He was weak.

  Strong, his beast argued.

  Her cool fingers landed lightly on his mangled cheek and his jaw flicked in response. But somehow, he kept still. Somehow, he let her touch the ruined parts of him.

  “You’re so warm,” she breathed, curving her palm around his cheek in the gentlest way. She stole his fucking soul in that moment. Took it right out of his chest and made it hers.

  Monster sucked in a trembling breath, trying hard to keep his shit together.

  She frowned, finding his eyes. “Does it hurt?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer, how to explain.

  “Yes.”

  Vegas jerked her hand away, looking remorseful. “I’m sorry. I—”

  But Monster caught her wrist to keep her close. “I like it.”

  She tilted her head, trying to understand.

  “Like Marlee said,” he explained. “Good feels bad. But only because I’m not used to it.” Tell her. He took a deep breath and pushed the rest out. “No one touches me.”

  “Never?”

  He shook his head. “Not in any good way.”

  “Me either,” she whispered, and he couldn’t help his thumb rubbing the soft bone of her wrist.

  She didn’t pull away. She let him.

  More proof that she meant what she’d said last night. His mate liked his touch. It was enough to have him soaring inside. God, it was a feeling he never wanted free of. Like he could tear down buildings with his fists, pull down a fucking star to give her as a gift.

  Powerful.

  Not weak.

  Not ruined.

  Could he touch her more? Would she let him closer?

  Fuck, if he wasn’t going to try.

  He pulled her in tighter until her chest brushed against his, and he brought his other hand up to graze her cheek. She held her breath as he stroked her satin skin and it heated under his touch. Her lips parted when her breath finally eased out. His gaze caught there.

  They looked soft. They looked sweet. He wanted to kiss them.

  But…

  “My face,” he choked, “does it bother you?”

  He had to know. Before he even tried what he was dying to try, he had to know.

  “No,” she answered, and he listened hard to find a lie in her voice. But there was none. “I like it.”

  Monster went still.

  Was it true? Maybe she didn’t know. Good from bad, like from dislike.

  But she touched her fingers again to his cheek, walking her touch along the ridges of scar tissue that made up his mask. She wouldn’t do that if it bothered her.

  “I’m not afraid of scars.”

  “No?”

  She confirmed it with a slow shake of her head.

  He let his fingers graze her cheek once more, before he decided it was worth the try. If she pushed him away now, he knew it wouldn’t be because she was scared.

  But shit. He didn’t know how to do this. Kiss something so precious. He needed it to be perfect for her.

  His own fear almost had him backing away. But she was still touching his face and still pressed to his body and still so trusting.

  He wanted this so damn bad.

  He was taught that when you want something you take it. But with her, he wanted to ask, wanted her to give it freely. Sweeter that way. Accepted instead of conquered.

  Monster closed his eyes, stopped thinking, and let instinct guide him down her to her mouth. He pressed his ruined lips to hers as softly as he could, swallowing her little gasp before pulling back again.

  The contact was short but it bled through him with a heat so intense he wondered if he’d burn up before he ever came to know his Firecat.

  He found Vegas’s eyes, desperate to read her reaction, and hoping it wasn’t something that would break his heart.

  But her eyes were closed, and she didn’t open them.

  “Again,” she whispered.

  He dipped in again, as careful as the first time, and lingering just a little longer.

  Fuck, was he doing this right?

  It felt right, it felt amazing and left him hungering for more. He wanted to lick her open, press his tongue inside and taste every inch of her mouth until she was the only flavor he knew.

  But… was he doing it right?

  He pulled back, searching her face. Still, she didn’t look at him.

  “If I open my eyes,” she murmured, her breath warm between them, “will you promise to not be sorry?”

  “Sorry?”

  She nodded, pressing her lips together before licking them.

  “I don’t want that to be a mistake. Like when we touched. So promise. Please?”

  Her words gave him the confidence to pull her even closer. He lowered his face to her neck, pulling her scent in deep before whispering, “It wasn’t a mistake. I’m not fucking sorry. Now open your eyes so I can see you.”

  She obeyed and what he saw there stole the breath from his chest. Wonder and awe and fuck… desire so intense he stuttered over his next heartbeat.

  Carefully, so carefully, he brushed his fingertips over her cheek, across her jaw, to her lips, tracing them over and over until he memorized their shape.

  Mine.

  “You liked that?” He had to make sure.

  “Yes.” She blinked, that shyness showing through. But she didn’t move away. In fact, she moved closer. “Did you?”

  Monster shook his head. “No, female. Like isn’t the right word. I… I…”

  Her eyes fell to his lips, glazing over with desire. “Do it again,” she pleaded, her hands twisting in his shirt, her desperation for contact digging into the deepest parts of him and making him want more from her.

  This time he licked softly at those lips until they parted. Instinct drove him to taste, and he did just that, dipping inside to find her curious tongue waiting shyly for him. She was like honey and mint and something sexier that had no name. Something that he knew would only be hers.

  Gently, her cool fingers slipped into the hair at his nape, and her nails grazed the scars at the back of his neck, causing a longing growl to rise in his throat.

  Could he have more of her? Was she ready for that?

  Was he?

  He pulled back, trembling, but kept her close.

  “Is it always like this?” she asked, breathless.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never kissed anyone besides you. But I don’t think so. How can it be?”

  “It’s my first kiss too.”

  “I want to be all your firsts. And your last.”

  Awareness dawned in her gaze, and he went still as he thought he’d gone too far, shared too much.

  “I don’t know anything about… about… what would you call it? That wasn’t my expertise. Bastian never tried to use me like that…” Her explanation cut off, and the reminder of what she’d been through darkened her eyes and made him want to prove that her future could be better.

  Before, his answer would have been fucking. Sex. Getting off.

  With her, it would be something else entirely. And he wasn’t sure if he was willing to reveal that much yet.

  But his mouth answered for him.

  “Making love,” he rumbled. “With you, it would be making love.”

  Vegas went loose in his arms, her form melting to him in a way
that made him feel invincible. She swallowed hard, her gaze going back to his mouth.

  “You could teach me.”

  “You trust me that much?”

  She nodded. “I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t trust anyone. But you feel different. You feel real. And whatever this feeling is, whatever it means… I like it. I want it.”

  The mating bond, he realized. She was bonding to him, and he to her. And if that wasn’t enough to scare the living shit out of him, the look in her eyes did it.

  Trust. Pure and true. Faith. In him. It was a goddamn miracle.

  It scared him and gave him purpose all the same.

  She was his.

  This was her, giving herself to him, regardless of her fears. Regardless of the wrongs done to her before. This was his female, stepping out from the shadows to take his fucked-up hand and move forward. Even if it was only a tiny step. Forward, with him.

  She was his, and he was going to treat her so right. He was going to protect her snowflake heart as fiercely as he protected her body. She needed a warrior. A scarred-to-hell, battle ready defender who would clear a path for her to march into that brighter future she deserved.

  He was that man.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Her first kiss.

  And it changed her life.

  Strong conclusion to make when she was still standing in a room that wasn’t her own, pressed against a man who was as gentle as he was brutal. But inside, she knew it was true.

  A kiss from Monster would change her life.

  It was the softest kiss. Not what she’d expected at all. His kiss didn’t demand anything, not yet. It asked, instead. Begged almost. For her to accept him, and she wanted to. Wow, did she want to.

  Inside, she was melting, warmer than she’d ever been. Monster’s arms around her were new and scary, but only because of her reaction to them. She didn’t want away, she wanted closer. Just like under the bed, his heat drew her in, pulling at something inside until he felt as familiar as her own breath.

  Mine.

  The word whispered through her mind, insistent enough that she couldn’t ignore it.

  Mine.

  He wasn’t hers. She knew that. Of course she knew it. No one owned a man like Monster. But the way he was looking at her now, it felt like she did.

  She didn’t know what she’d done to earn his devotion, but she couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist. Marlee said it was the beast inside them that chose, and the man listened. But it couldn’t be that.