Frozen

by Meljean Brook

  “The next guy I date?” I echoed stupidly. Why would I date anyone else?

  “Or when you get married, have kids.” He turned away, fists balled at his sides, his shoulders rigid. “What are you going to tell your husband?”

  My husband. Wow. He was moving really fast. I hadn’t even invited him to Christmas dinner yet.

  But I’d been heading in that direction, I realized. I’d pictured myself moving toward forever…with him. But when Erik imagined the future, he saw me with someone else.

  “Okay, well.” I didn’t know what was holding me together now. I wished I had even a little bit of his ice, but my throat was burning, my eyes were burning. “I guess that’s that. Have a nice life.”

  I heard his ragged breath, saw his nod out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t stop to say more. I grabbed up my bag and walked as fast as I could to the door. Not even the door. Just plastic, and as I passed out of the gatehouse heavy drops fell on my cheeks. Not tears, but icy drops.

  The big icicles hanging from the eaves were melting, and I thanked God for them, because if my tears did start falling before I got out of here I could use the icicles as an excuse. My whole body was shaking, my legs feeling too weak to carry me out to my Jeep, yet I made it somehow, then realized that all of the bloodied snow and the Hound’s body were gone.

  I climbed into my seat and started the engine, but didn’t even try to put it in gear. My breath was coming in burning shudders and I’d probably ram into a tree. I just had to wait. Pain went away. It always did. I’d gotten along without him for eighteen months. I could survive the rest of my life.

  My teeth clenched, and I sucked in another breath. God. It would help if Erik went back into the house. But he’d followed me out and was standing at the entrance to the gatehouse, his eyes cold, his face desolate. No shoes, no coat. Idiot.

  Not that it mattered. The house had been cold inside, too. No fire, no heat. No wonder he was frozen through. No wonder his heart was a fucking block of ice.

  Except…the icicles were melting. Even though the temperature was cold enough to bite.

  My sobbing breaths suddenly quieted and I stared at him through the windshield. No heat inside the house.

  The warmth had to be coming from somewhere, though. This fortress had snow and ice piled all around it, but the icicles told me that heat was leaking through. A lot of heat. And here Erik was, a freaking frost giant who could control snow and ice, who seemed just as cold from the outside.

  But something inside him must be burning, because the icicles were dripping like tears.

  And he’d believed that I’d seen him as a monster. Not a warrior. Not a man I admired.

  I’d never told him he was. He’d told me so many times that I was amazing and brave. I’d never said anything remotely similar, because I’d been so busy remembering how he’d hurt me that I hadn’t let myself be vulnerable again.

  At least, not my heart. I’d risked my body. I’d told him I wanted him, but I held every other emotion close to my chest. I hadn’t told him that I love him—all because I wasn’t really certain how he felt about me.

  He must be even less certain of my feelings. And maybe a worse torment than the curse was having someone you loved so close and believing that they didn’t love you back...and that there was no chance that they’d ever love you back. Only a few hours ago, Erik had looked at me with ice in his eyes and had ripped my heart out. When I looked at him and hid everything I felt, when I shrugged and pretended that none of this mattered, maybe I didn’t leave his heart in any better shape.

  Now he was coming toward me, a concerned frown creasing his brow. No wonder. I’d been sitting here a long time.

  I rolled down the window. “I was going to point out that you need better insulation, because those giant icicles are going to kill someone. But I guess they already did.”

  That startled a laugh from him. God, I wanted to kiss him. Was this instincts? Hormones?

  I didn’t care anymore. Maybe I was mistaken. But I’d take that risk.

  Opening the door, I slid out of the car. “It’s a really shitty curse, Erik.”

  His amusement died. “I know.”

  “No, not because of what it does to you—it’s just a shitty curse. Just like you have shitty insulation. It’s crap. Because a thousand years ago women were basically like cattle. So what kind of curse is that? A frost giant rapes some random woman, but no one would care except her family. She’s got no rights. It hurts the girl more than it ever hurts him.”

  His eyes were haunted again. “Yes.”

  “Well, you think so, because this is the twenty-first century and you’re a decent guy. A thousand years ago, they probably weren’t so decent. Your ancestors were probably all, ‘I have to stick my dick in some wench, but who cares? That’s what women are for!’ So how would that hurt the guy? Unless it wasn’t the act itself that was the curse, but the woman he did it to.”

  “Olivia—”

  “I mean, it’s not practical, right?” I stalked closer to him and his body seemed to tighten with my every step. “And, okay, maybe you don’t curse someone unless you’re really pissed, but when you do, you make sure it’s practical. You make sure it really hurts someone. So you force him to hurt his mother, his sister. Or the woman he loves.”

  Erik abruptly stilled, his tormented gaze locked on mine.

  “Do you?” I could hardly breathe. “Do you love me?”

  His eyes closed in defeat. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  I was suddenly light. So light. “Yes, it does. It changes everything.”

  “No.”

  “If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have concealed it from me.” And love always mattered. That was why I’d hidden mine from him.

  “I can’t bear—”

  “What? To be around me? Or you don’t want to hurt me?” I laughed. “God, you know that’s shit. My mom can be our early warning system. Or maybe you’re just going to decide for me, huh? Play the big strong frost giant and don’t let me choose whether to take risks or not.”

  “Jesus. Of all people, Olivia, I’d trust you to weigh risk and make decisions. You saved us both last night.” Misery bracketed his mouth in deep lines. “But you want a date, Olivia. I want—”

  “Forever?”

  Yearning filled his gaze. “Yes. God help me, yes.”

  “What if I want that, too?”

  “If I could make you love me?” The agonized longing on his face stopped my heart. “If I thought…it was possible. If you weren’t afraid of me.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

  “I think you tried not to be.” Remembered pain filled his eyes. “But I saw how you looked at me after I killed the serpent, Olivia. You were terrified.”

  “Of the snake! Not of you. And remember, I shot the snake. Was I nervous when you came into my bedroom? Sure. But if I’d been anywhere near terrified, I’d have shot you, too.” I drew in a long breath. “What if I want to stay?”

  His gaze froze on my face again. His voice was hoarse. “I can’t ask you to.”

  “Then tell me to go.”

  “You should.”

  “Then tell me to. But know I want forever. Know that I love you, too.” Tears suddenly trembled in my eyes, my voice. “So tell me to go, Erik. Tell me it doesn’t change anything, knowing that you’ll rip my heart out. And if you don’t want me to stay, I won’t ever ask again. I swear I’ll never ask you again.”

  A promise that was so close to the one he’d made this morning. I swear I’ll never touch you again. Both of us, making promises we couldn’t bear to keep.

  He broke his in the next second, catching my face in his big hands and capturing my mouth in a desperate kiss. Winding my arms around his neck, I pressed closer, joy bursting in my chest and raining tears down my cheeks. Happiness was supposed to make me stop crying, but I couldn’t.

  “God, Olivia,” he said roughly against my lips. “I
can’t let you go again.”

  “You won’t need to.”

  “But you need to know.” His hands buried in my hair, his mouth trailing kisses over my jaw and down to my throat before he lifted his head with a harsh groan. “You need to know. The frost giant isn’t a different man. That’s all me. Just…without control. And I want you under me all the time, Olivia. To be inside you, feeling you shatter around me. Not once a year. That’s just when I can’t control it. But the way it was last night—that’s how it will be with me.”

  Hard, relentless, and excruciatingly tender. My heart so full, I smiled up at him. “Do you think I just took everything you gave because I had no choice? That wasn’t some martyr lying there. That was me, loving it all.”

  And loving his kiss now, the warm stroke of his tongue—and the shock of cold that followed when he licked my neck. I laughed, shivering against him in surprise and swift pleasure.

  “Show off,” I said.

  His grin was so gorgeous, and I was sorry that it faded so quickly. Gravel filled his voice. “I was so terrified that I would hurt you.”

  “Your grandmother was okay.”

  “But not every woman was. Do you think I’d have been so worried if they’d all made it through all right? Some of have been injured; others killed themselves afterward. And my grandmother already knew that side of my grandfather. There was no surprise. I had no idea you’d be familiar with any kind of magic. But even though you were, if you’d changed your mind, if you’d been afraid…”

  With his size and strength, he’d have hurt me. Very badly. “So we were lucky.”

  “Yes. And it could still happen. You have to realize that, Olivia. If you’re sick on the solstice or just not in the mood or if you’re pregnant—”

  I stopped him before he could get any further. “Early warning system,” I reminded him. “Okay? If my mom thinks something could go wrong, I take a flight out a few days before. And we’ll just always buy a ticket in advance, every year.”

  Though his jaw was tight, he nodded. “It’s practical.”

  Of course it was. “And same goes for the Hounds,” I told him. “More might show up. But we’ll be prepared, okay? Because I’m always prepared.”

  “Thank God.” His fingers tenderly traced the line of my jaw. “If you were ever hurt, I wouldn’t want to take another breath.”

  “Though I’m the worst thing to ever happen to you?” I could tease him now. “Even though you wished you’d never met me?”

  “The best was meeting you. The worst was knowing I might hurt you if I fell in love.” He kissed me again and then said, “That was all it took. A kiss. It hit me so fast and you were so calm. Like you didn’t care that I’d walked away. So I thought I’d stopped it in time. That I could at least save you.”

  “By backing off?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you fell anyway, even though we barely spoke off the job. Why didn’t you suspect that I would, too?”

  His teeth nipped my bottom lip. “I thought you’d be too practical.”

  “No.” Laughing, I shook my head, then gasped as he swept me off my feet. God, I could get used to this—and my instincts had been so right. Erik was definitely, absolutely, the one. I linked my arms around his neck. “Speaking of impractical decisions, you’re out of a job and I’m out of a job. We should start up a firm together. M&G Engineering.”

  “That’s practical.”

  “My reason isn’t. I’m crazy about you. I want to be with you all the time,” I said. “And I want what you want, starting with building my own firm with a brilliant partner who isn’t an asshole. I want the same things you’d have wished for, if you didn’t have to worry about the curse.”

  He stopped suddenly, his arms tightening around me. “Olivia.”

  It was all he said, but his voice was rough with emotion, his eyes diamond.

  “Erik.” Softly I kissed him. “I know the curse weighs on you. I know the whole thing is fucked up. But in all of it, this is one thing that’s absolutely right. And it’s not a risk for me. The risk is not having you, because I’m pretty sure that love is the only thing that can hurt so much—or feel so amazing. The curse doesn’t come close.”

  Throat working, he nodded and continued inside the house. “Tell me what else you want, Olivia.”

  That was easy. “You. Love. Maybe a family, one day.”

  “The usual, then.”

  Exactly that. Just the usual. With a cursed frost giant.

  “I hope you fixed the chimneys,” I said, then laughed until he kissed me again.

  * * *

  The End

  I hope you enjoyed Frozen!

  If you’re looking for more stories full of adventure and romance, you might find exactly what you’re searching for with Here There Be Monsters, the first novella in my Iron Seas steampunk romance series. Turn the page for an excerpt from that story.

  To receive notices about my new releases you can sign up for my newsletter, or visit my website for more information, book descriptions, and excerpts.

  SIGN UP FOR MELJEAN'S NEWSLETTER HERE

  www.meljeanbrook.com

  Happy reading!

  Meljean

  Here There Be Monsters: An Excerpt

  Meljean Brook launches a bold new steampunk series as a desperate woman strikes a provocative — and terrifying — bargain to gain overseas passage.

  Two years ago, blacksmith Ivy, desperate to flee London, purchased her overseas passage by agreeing to spend the voyage in the bed of the pirate captain, Mad Machen. Saved at the last minute by his rival, Ivy scraped out a new life in Fool’s Cove…until Mad Machen finds her, forces her to accept a job that will create a monster, and reminds her that she still owes him the price of a journey…

  “Crazy, wild and fun.”

  —Bookaholics Romance Club

  Chapter 1

  By the time Ivy found Ratcatcher Row, yellow fog smothered the docklands. She inched along the unfamiliar street, holding her right hand out to her side and using the buildings facing the narrow wooden walk as a guide. Though only an arm’s length away, the thick mist dissolved Ivy’s gloved fingers into ghostly outlines. On her left, the clicking, segmented shadow of a spider-rickshaw scurried by on the cobblestones, and the hydraulic hiss of the driver’s thrusting feet seemed to whisper a single refrain.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  Oh, she wanted to. Her heart pounded as if she’d sprinted through these streets instead of picking her way through the fog, stopping at each building to search for an identifying sign.

  But at least she was moving. As long as she could move, she couldn’t be taken.

  Seven years ago, after two centuries under brutal Horde rule, the pirate captain Rhys Trahaearn had destroyed the tower that the Horde used to control the nanoagents infecting every person in London. For seven years, Ivy had been free to move as she wished, to feel as she wished—until earlier that night. Only hours ago, she’d been frozen in her bed with her eyes closed, unable to move, listening to strangers search from room to room through her boarding house. From blacksmiths to beggars, no one in that cheap tenement owned anything of value. But when someone had come through her door, stripped away her blankets and prodded at her thighs and breasts as if evaluating her thin body, when the strangers had left and she’d seen the empty beds in rooms that had been earlier filled, Ivy had realized each sleeping person had been valuable—as workers, as slaves...which were the only uses the Horde ever had for them.

  And if the Horde was returning to London with their controlling towers and paralyzing devices, nothing would stop Ivy from leaving.

  A steamcoach waited in front of the next building, rattling and puttering, its gas lanterns penetrating the fog in faint glowing spheres. By the feeble light, Ivy found the establishment’s sign, and almost moved on before her mind registered the painting on the wood: a compass.

  The Star Rose Inn. She’d been looking for a flower. And she’d come so clos
e to missing it, but she was here. Finally here.

  Her heart slamming in her ribs, Ivy rose up on her toes to peer through the small glass window. No lights burned within. She’d have to wake up the innkeeper—who’d likely turn Ivy away after taking a look at her—or she could break the lock. A lock hadn’t stopped her when she’d been a child, raised in the Horde’s crèche, it hadn’t stopped her after they’d taken her arms, and it wouldn’t stop her now that the Blacksmith had given her new ones. But even if she broke through the lock, she wouldn’t know which room Mad Machen slept in.

  Raising her fist, she hammered on the door. A minute later, a stout man wearing a nightcap and with gray tufts of hair growing behind his ears swung open the small, hinged window. He lifted a gas lamp to the opening. Ivy squinted against the sudden, bright light.

  She knew what she looked like. Soot from the day’s work still streaked her face; fog and sweat dampened her red hair. The buckles at the waist of her long coat didn’t hide the threadbare nightgown underneath, and the trousers tucked into her boots had been old when she’d bought them. The satchel clutched to her chest was nothing but a shirt tied together, and held everything she owned. Her desperation must have hung around her as thick as the mist; she wasn’t surprised when the innkeeper immediately lowered the lamp, swinging the window closed.

  “We’re full up tonight. You’ll find rooms on the cheap at the Cock and Bull.”

  “Wait!” She curled her fingers around the window frame, preventing its closure. “Please. I’m here to see Captain Machen. I’ve come from the Blacksmith’s.”

  She’d never used her connection to her mentor like this before. But two names in London would open almost any door: the Blacksmith’s, and the Iron Duke’s.

  The innkeeper paused. “The Blacksmith?”

  Ivy pulled aside her nightgown collar, exposing the guild’s mark: a chain wrapped around her neck and a hammer poised to strike. When the innkeeper began to shake his head and close the window again, Ivy quickly stripped off her glove, exposing pale gray fingers and silvery nails.