Frozen

by Meljean Brook

  Wrapping my mind around that seemed impossible. Was I so desperate to be with him? Or was I just desperate to feel as if I had some choice in the matter?

  I didn’t know. But now that I’d begun thinking, my brain wouldn’t stop—and every thought only hurt more.

  Erik had wanted to get away from me. Obviously the curse was to blame. He’d left the firm to protect me, but the warmth of that knowledge didn’t last, because on its heels came another realization: the curse might be the only reason he’d wanted me in the first place. It might be the only reason he’d kissed me.

  Maybe Erik hadn’t left the firm just to stop himself from hurting me. Maybe he’d left because he couldn’t stand how the curse made him need me.

  If that was true, then he might not be asking me to kill him just to prevent his losing control and possibly hurting me; he also might be asking so that he wasn’t forced to be with someone he didn’t want.

  God. I curled up tighter beneath the blanket, a thick ache building in my throat.

  I didn’t know what to do. If our situations were reversed, I couldn’t swear that I wouldn’t make the same choice that Erik had made. Maybe I’d rather be dead than hurt someone…or to have all of my choices taken away and be forced to fuck them. Maybe I should honor his decision.

  But I couldn’t shoot him. I couldn’t.

  And I could barely breathe, thinking that kiss so long ago—the incredible, soul-searing kiss that made my instincts scream that I’d found the love of my life—had been provoked by the curse instead of Erik wanting me.

  So I didn’t want to think anymore. My heart had taken too much of a beating today and every new realization was another blow. Exhaustion crept through me from bones to brain. Staring into the cold, dark fireplace, I let sleep come.

  And hoped that I wouldn’t think when I dreamed.

  * * *

  A terrified scream in my ear ripped me from sleep. Heart pounding, I jolted up from the sofa and searched the darkened room.

  No one was near.

  Had I been dreaming? A nightmare? Cold sweat slicked my skin, but I didn’t know if it was in reaction to my fear now or if I’d been terrified even while I’d slept. Maybe I’d woken myself with my own scream. The voice had sounded like a woman’s.

  It was a woman’s. Every muscle in my body tensed as another shriek pierced the silence, coming from right behind me. Teeth chattering, I whipped around. No one here.

  Was I going crazy?

  “Erik!”

  My voice, I realized in sudden horror. That was my voice…and the Hounds were tricksters.

  “Oh my God. The Hounds are inside the house.” Another bone-chilling scream was followed by a desperate shout. “Erik, help me!”

  Oh, no. I raced for the door. An icy gust shoved at the heavy wood and blasted my face. The fortress’s thick stone walls had muffled the rising howl of the wind—not just a snowstorm now, but a raging blizzard. The light in the gatehouse ceiling barely penetrated the driving snow beyond the portcullis.

  No sign of Erik. But it wouldn’t be long.

  “It’s a trap, Erik!” I prayed my shout wasn’t lost in the roar of the wind. “The Hounds aren’t in here!”

  They were probably waiting nearby, intending to attack as soon as he arrived.

  Another scream came from behind me, rising higher and higher, as if I were suffering unimaginable torture. Even knowing it was fake, I was shaking by the time the scream abruptly stopped, my entire body stiff with terror.

  A tall form suddenly emerged from the white. I stumbled back, muffling a shriek. It was Erik. Just Erik. His diamond eyes were wild, his face pale blue. His strong hands wrapped around the bars. “Olivia?”

  Relief weakened my knees. I clung to the door frame to keep myself steady. “I’m all right. It was a trick. Maybe a trap for you.”

  “A trap.” With narrowed eyes, he turned to study the snow behind him, the wind ripping the steam of his breath away. “All three coming for me.”

  “Yes—”

  Another terrifying scream pierced the din of the storm. Erik spun to grip the portcullis bars again, his teeth sharp and his voice a rough growl. “Was that from inside the house?”

  Unease squirreled down my spine. He’d been certain the Hounds couldn’t get through the walls. But had they? Suddenly afraid of the darkness filling the room behind me, I whispered, “I don’t know. But it sounds like it is.”

  “Jesus Christ.” His knuckles whitened on the bars. “Let me in, Olivia. Hurry.”

  God, yes. I scrambled through the door and reached for the lever…then hesitated and looked back at Erik.

  My mother insists that my strong instincts aren’t magic. They aren’t like an animal’s instincts either, the innate force that sends birds flying south and baby turtles crawling into the sea. Instead she says that I notice things I’m not always consciously aware of, so my subconscious prods me in one direction or another. That’s not unique; everybody’s brain does it. My subconscious just prods a bit harder than most people’s—and at that moment my instincts were like a sharp stick jabbing into my gut and warning me that something was horribly wrong.

  Such as Erik asking me to raise the gate without first telling me to verify who he was. Maybe the urgency of the situation had made him forget, but now that I was trying to figure out exactly what had tripped my instincts, I began seeing more. His gray t-shirt should have been ripped across his chest from when he’d stabbed himself before. And I saw his breath, as if he was as warm on the inside as I was.

  Not a frost giant. A Hound.

  So this had been a trap, but not just for Erik. Instead the Hound had terrified me, hoping that I’d be so panicked that I’d forget to question him before raising the portcullis.

  My hand dropped away from the lever. The Hound stared at my face for a long second, his jaw working. Slowly an abashed smile widened his mouth.

  That wasn’t Erik’s smile.

  “Damn,” he said softly, and all at once his face changed in a liquid rearrangement of features, as if a new man had been poured beneath Erik’s skin and seeped through his pores. Dark hair faded to silver—but unless this face was another mask, he wasn’t the same Hound I’d seen in the woods before. One of the brothers, maybe. His hair was shorter, his features younger. Still wearing a t-shirt and jeans, he didn’t seem so urbane or so predatory, just chagrined.

  “So you found me out.” Rueful amusement briefly danced in his yellow eyes, then his abashed grin faded into concern. “Okay, but listen. I’ll admit to fooling you. But it’s only because I’ve got to get you away from here.”

  “Right. Sure,” I said pleasantly. “Fuck off.”

  “Do you know what he’ll do to you? God.” As if agitated, he pushed his hand through his hair. “Yes, I came here with my brothers to kill him. But we didn’t know you’d be here. My brothers don’t care, not really. I do. So I’ll get you out of here. Now, while the storm can cover our escape.”

  Oh, he was good. Every expression, every gesture was a persuasive one. Too bad his actions didn’t match his words.

  “Then why trick me?” I asked. “You knew the screams might bring Erik here. Why not just knock softly so that we could sneak away?”

  The Hound grinned again. “I can’t really help that. The tricks are in my nature—in my blood. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. And if I kill him, you’re out of danger, right?” His smile hardened. “Do you know what’s in a frost giant’s blood? Ice. And he won’t feel a thing when he rips you apart.”

  Rips me apart. I barely suppressed my shiver. I suspected that letting this man see how his words affected me would be like placing a weapon in his hands.

  Maybe I’d already given too much away.

  “Did you ask him why you are the one who triggered the curse?” His wolfish gaze had fixed on my face. “We heard what he said on the road—that he can’t stand to be around you. That’s the curse; that’s why it’s so terrible. It makes him need someone that
he hates.”

  That had to be a lie. Erik didn’t hate me. He might resent the curse, but he didn’t hate me.

  Still, my chest ached. I said hoarsely, “Then why is he protecting me?”

  “Because he’s not a monster,” the Hound replied softly, but his piercing yellow eyes were still hard. “Not yet. On the solstice, he will be. And not many people can survive an angry fuck from a giant.”

  His grandmother had. For twenty years. Would she have remained that long with someone who hated her? Who repeatedly hurt her?

  God, I didn’t know. People often made decisions that I never would, but that made perfect sense to them. Maybe she’d chosen to stay…or maybe she had no other choice. Fifty years ago, a woman who slept with a man—because of a curse or not—probably risked more than I did. Maybe a frost giant seemed like a better deal than being a single mother or shunned by friends and family. Maybe she’d felt her only option had been staying.

  But I couldn’t think of this now—and I shouldn’t believe a word this asshole was saying. Not when hurt and doubts could twist my instincts, making me vulnerable. That was probably what he wanted, so that I’d raise the gate and let him save me from Erik’s brutality.

  If it came to brutality, however, then I’d keep it between Erik and me. And I’d damn well save myself.

  Stepping back, I gripped the edge of the door, preparing to close it in the Hound’s face. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, though. His body had stiffened and his nostrils flared as he scented the rushing wind.

  The grin that widened his mouth then wasn’t chagrined but horrifying, all glistening fangs and elongating jaw. Instead of pouring through his skin, this time the change ripped through him in an instant. I had only a glimpse of pointed ears, thick fur, and claws before he charged into the swirling snow.

  Oh, shit. “Erik!” I screamed. “Erik, he’s coming!”

  The howling wind answered me. I couldn’t see anything. Every noise seemed muffled by the storm. Was that a growl? A yelp?

  A bundle of fur slammed into the iron bars and dropped to the ground. I screamed, reeling back. A giant figure strode into the faint light just as the Hound leapt to its feet, snarling.

  The air suddenly seemed to tighten. With a rumble like rolling thunder, a thick sheet of white ice climbed the portcullis, creating a solid wall. The noise of the wind quieted.

  Stunned, I stared at the ice sheet. Erik had done that, I realized. Making sure that I wasn’t accidentally hurt while the battle raged outside.

  He’d already hurt the Hound. Frozen blood glittered like rubies against the drifts of snow piled on the gatehouse floor. But even though the Hound had hit the bars hard enough to break bone and splatter blood, he’d been up again within seconds. To kill him, Erik would have to do far worse.

  Perhaps he was protecting me from that, too. I didn’t know which would be more frightening—seeing them fight, or not knowing what was happening. Because not knowing was pretty fucking terrifying. I kept thinking that I’d go inside for my gun and my boots, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the sheet of ice. Once, something thudded against it so hard that the gatehouse shuddered—but the ice didn’t crack. Then all was quiet again except for the pounding of my heart.

  Even that seemed to stop as the ice shattered, collapsing into a pile at the base of the gate. Horror clutched my throat. Looking human except for his blue skin, Erik stood on the other side, clutching his spear—and covered in blood. His shirt had been shredded.

  “Oh, my God.” I had sense enough not to rush forward, but I had to grip the door frame to stop myself. “Are you all right?”

  “Most of it isn’t my blood.” His voice was rough. His diamond gaze searched my face. “You?”

  On the verge of bawling. But I didn’t want to tell him. “That depends on whether you know what kind of statue Thomas Robertson wanted us to put in front of his building.”

  “A wookie,” Erik said, and when my relieved laugh filled the gatehouse, he smiled.

  That was the right smile. “Are you coming in?”

  “I wouldn’t mind changing out of these clothes.” His gaze held mine. “But only if I won’t scare you.”

  Because he was covered in blood. Because he’d just killed a Hound. But it wasn’t Erik that I was afraid of.

  I glanced into the snow behind him. “Was it only one? Or the brothers, too?”

  “Just one.”

  “Do you think the others are waiting? That they’ll rush us when I lift the gate?”

  “If they do, I’ll block the entrance again.”

  With ice. Nodding, I pushed up the lever. Erik came through, stripping off his bloodied shirt and wadding the shredded remains in his big hands. God. I knew he was big, tall. He’d held me against his broad chest and I’d seen the steely strength in his arms more than once before. But the whole package was completely unreal, heavy muscle sculpting a torso that I longed to touch. To taste. To wrap my arms around and hold on, feeling each muscle tighten and release as he moved deep inside me.

  Heat surged beneath my skin. I averted my gaze, watching the gate as it lowered, but it was as if his image had been burned behind my eyes. I couldn’t see anything else.

  But I was aware of how he paused beside me. My breath was unsteady, and every nerve like a live wire. I didn’t know what Erik saw when he looked at me. Hopefully not the need.

  “You’re shaking.” His voice was bleak. “I’ll go back out.”

  So trying to conceal my arousal only made me appear afraid of him. Great. “No. I just…” What? “I just keep expecting the others to come. The brothers.”

  At least it wasn’t a lie.

  Erik glanced out into the snow before shaking his head. “They can look like wolves, but it’s not in a Hound’s nature to fight in a pack. They probably all agreed to wait until the day after the solstice, just like they told us. But they won’t.”

  “You’ll think they’ll attempt it individually, like this one did?”

  “They’ll want to one-up each other. To trick each other, not just us. I’ve heard they don’t like to share.”

  So they won’t want to share a victory. “But that’s good, right? It’s easier to take them out one at a time.”

  He swung the door closed. “Good and bad. We won’t know when they’re coming—and I’d rather stop them all at once and get you out of here.”

  Of course. I couldn’t let myself forget the reason why. “What’s in a frost giant’s nature, Erik?”

  “We’re not all the same.”

  “Then yours?”

  His body stiffened, eyes paling to diamond. “Savage. Pure instinct and need.”

  Because of the frost giant or the curse? “Then what are you now?”

  “Controlling it.” His gaze narrowed, and my breath stopped as he abruptly stepped forward and caught my jaw in the cradle of his big hands, his skin feverishly hot. “You didn’t answer me before. Are you all right?”

  I didn’t know if I was. A man—mostly—had just been killed outside this house. The man touching me had done it, blood still streaking his skin. And we had to deal with this curse.

  “I’m not hurt,” I finally said.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  No, it wasn’t. But I could ask him the same. “Are you all right? You just killed someone.”

  Even knowing it was necessary to defend himself after the Hound had shape-shifted and gone after him, that couldn’t be easy.

  Erik didn’t answer for a long second. His gaze searched my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones, and all at once he seemed almost tired, his expression weighed by worry.

  “I’m not hurt,” he said.

  My smile probably looked as bleak and as weary as his. He watched me for a moment longer, then with a heavy breath released me. The heat of his touch gone, I immediately felt colder, shivering and wrapping my arms around myself.

  I glanced at the door. “After you change clothes, do you think you can sho
w me through the house, tell me if there are any bolt holes or fortified rooms?” In a fortress built for defense, there likely were a few. “Because they’ll probably keep trying to attack you through me, and if I’m going to be waiting here by myself, I want to know where to hide if the Hounds find a way to get to me.”

  Erik’s gaze snapped to mine, eyes burning. No longer tired, but tense and dangerous. “They won’t get to you.”

  In this fortress? Probably not. But it was best to be prepared.

  And his reaction gave me another reason. Suggesting the Hounds might attack me had transformed his bleak exhaustion into burning resolve. He stalked closer again, no longer visibly burdened by worry but determined to guard me with his body and life.

  So maybe that was what we both needed: not to focus on what we couldn’t change, but what we could. I wasn’t above giving him another little push if I saw his worry return.

  I wasn’t above giving him another push now—but not too hard. Just a playful one. “Maybe the Hounds will come down the chimney,” I said. “We should check it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “The chimney,” he echoed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Like Santa?”

  “I was actually thinking of the Three Little Pigs. You know how the wolf says, ‘Little pig, let me in’ and the pigs say ‘Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin’? And when the wolf can’t blow down the brick house, he comes down the chimney.” I pushed my fingers into my pockets, my heart leaping when Erik suddenly grinned. “I don’t want to be the pig.”

  “You should,” he said. “The pig won.”

  Oh, right. “In that case—Oink, oink.”

  “And in that case, I’d better take you into the kitchen and feed you.”

  That took a second to sink in, because he was closer now, just a few feet away, with amusement in his eyes, purpose in his every step, and so much bare skin on display. Absolutely gorgeous. Just watching him made my brain stumble a little, like an engine hiccuping before it turned over.

  Then I realized what he’d said and gasped in mock outrage. But I really wanted to laugh, then cry, because that statement reminded me so much of the Erik who’d made my instincts jump up and shout “He’s going to be The One!” like demented cheerleaders. It reminded me how easily he’d made me smile, and how much I’d liked him before he’d called our kiss a mistake and began looking at me with ice in his eyes.