Gathering Frost (Once Upon A Curse Book 1)

by Davis, Kaitlyn

  I don't need them. Not anymore.

  Asher didn't say and yet I know now how the story ends. With a kiss. The prince wakes the princess with a kiss, ending her slumber, bringing her back to life, making her broken heart beat again.

  Mine thumps in my chest.

  Hot.

  Melting all the ice away.

  The next time Asher knocks on my door, I spring to life. Every nerve in my body ignites, alert, waiting and anticipating what will come next. When the door creaks open, my gaze lands on his face and sparks explode in my chest. Tingles filter out to my fingers, slide into my stomach, a fluttering swarm of excitement.

  "Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe, smile wide and goofy. Though I can't see it, I know my cheeks are pulled into a similar expression. Instinctually.

  "Hey."

  My brain doesn't seem to be working, because I can't think of anything else to say. I'm too consumed by the shape of his lips, the curve of his hair as it swoops just slightly over his eyes, the way his muscles push gently against the fabric of his shirt.

  Is this what emotions do? Take away control. Take away reason.

  My body buzzes, alive, yet my mind lays just beyond reach. My lips prickle from my memories of the day before, filled with a need that takes my thoughts away.

  I'm delirious. Drunk.

  Like an addict, I want more.

  Asher speaks but I don't register the words.

  "Huh?" I look up, eyes finally finding his, pulled from my explorations. His pupils darken, eyes narrowing slyly. I know he's guessed my thoughts.

  "I said, do you want to get out of here? I think we should go on a date."

  "A date?" I cross my arms, eyebrow raised. "Where?"

  Talking is helping. My speech is coming back. My attitude is too.

  "It's a surprise."

  "I thought I wasn't allowed to leave, being a prisoner and everything."

  Asher just rolls his eyes. And he's right. This room doesn't feel like a cell, I don't feel like a hostage, not anymore. "Come on, you've got to trust me. You'll love this."

  "Trust you?" I say, exaggerated, just to push his buttons.

  Asher grabs my hand, sending a thrill down my spine, and pulls me toward him. I land against his chest. "Yeah, trust me," he whispers.

  For a moment, I think he might kiss me, but then he steps away, bringing me into the hallway with him.

  I go willingly. Because I do trust him, no matter how much that idea scares me. The queen seems far away and so do the promises I made her. They're lost in the wind, and I'm happy to watch them disappear.

  Voices grow louder the farther we walk, reverberating down the hall. Laughter. Conversation. High pitched excitement that intrigues me.

  When we turn a corner, I'm presented with a huge room filled to the brim with people. They sit on blankets, on pillows and cushions, all along the floor, filling every nook. At the far wall, a huge white screen is pulled taught, tied to hooks in the concrete.

  "What?" I start to ask, but Asher does not stop, and we keep making our way through the crowd, carefully stepping around people, over their blankets, steering clear of any wayward fingers.

  We don't stop until we reach the corner of the back wall, and then Asher produces a blanket of his own, spreading it across the floor and sitting. Opening his arm wide, he looks up, nodding at me.

  "I just wanted to get a good spot," he says, leaning back against the wall.

  Still confused, I slowly sit. Asher's arm comes around my shoulders, and I shift back until my head rests against his, and our bodies mold together.

  "What's going on?"

  "You'll see," Asher prods.

  "Can't you just tell me?" I ask, already anticipating his answer, which is a shrug and a firm, "Nope."

  I sigh, annoyed, and look away from his smirk.

  My gaze searches the room, watching other people settle in. Little children rest on adult laps, couples hold hands, lean against each another like Asher and me. The entire room is connected by a sense of familiarity. People smiling at one another, waving hello, catching up. There's a warmth among these strangers that I've never felt before, a glow that bonds them.

  I spot Maddy across the room with a boy our age and we smile at each other, her eyes contracting in question as she takes note of Asher. Then she winks and I bite my lip, shaking my head slightly. No doubt she'll be paying me a visit soon. But I don't mind.

  Other eyes soon find me around the room. Inviting. Shy. Suggesting a hello and maybe a thank you, but no one comes over to say anything. Still, a tenderness lodges in my stomach, suggesting that maybe I've found somewhere I belong.

  The conversation is growing softer, gently muting as though everyone knows what is about to happen, and knows that they must be silent. I keep quiet too, even as Asher places a gentle kiss on the back of my neck, zapping my senses to life.

  The lights dim, blanketing everyone in shadow.

  Then I gasp.

  Asher squeezes me tighter against him, enjoying the sight of my shock. But right before my eyes, pictures move along the screen. Colors flare to life, music fills the room.

  "It's called a movie," he whispers.

  A movie. I know the term. Remember them, almost. Images from a past life filter before my eyes, a small television in the living room, my mother brushing my hair as I sang along to whatever played on the screen.

  I snuggle closer to Asher, enjoying how warm his skin feels against mine, how nice his fingers feel as they brush my upper arm, caressing me. My hand finds its way to the ripples of his hard abs as I curl onto my side, and he holds it so our fingers can dance, silky smooth as they weave in and out, touching then pulling away only to find each other again.

  The movie starts with a girl on a farm, black and white, until a great tornado carries her away, takes her to a majestic world full of color. That is how I feel. Swept away in a dream, to world brighter than I realized it could be—more full, more vibrant, more alive. Every breath is more purposeful. Every smile holds more meaning. Every touch more powerful.

  But unlike the girl, I don't want to leave. She yearns to go home, but I feel like maybe I've finally found it. I never realized what my old life was missing, but now I can't go back. I don't want to let go.

  And that scares me.

  Perhaps I've lived without emotion for too long, but I know these feelings can't last forever. That they won't. I'm dangling from the edge of a steep cliff, holding on for as long as possible, but eventually I'll fall.

  My time is running out.

  The rebels are planning something, are planning to act. Otherwise why take me? Why venture into the city at all? And the queen knows it, which is why she sent me here to mess with their plan.

  I'm in the middle. Stuck. Caught.

  When the lights turn back on and the closing credits fill the screen, panic alarms my system, makes me tremble.

  "Jade?" Asher asks, clutching my hand, trying to still the quiver. His tone is concerned, worried.

  I turn my head, looking up at him, and I know my eyes are wide, pulled taut, slightly crazed. "I don't want to go back to my room, not yet."

  I don't want the night to end. Somehow, it suddenly feels like it is the last one we have left. My heart pounds. And though I know it's insane, that my mind is running wild, I cannot stop it. My emotions are a rollercoaster I cannot slow, that I don't know how to anticipate.

  "Okay," he tells me, brushing my cheek one time, before we ease apart and up. Asher folds the blanket, abandoning it in the corner before taking my hand again. I'm paralyzed without his touch, lost in my frantic pulse. "I know just the place, come on."

  A slanted grin lights his face, a sneaky smile that warms me, slows the rapid beating until it has changed just slightly, not so nervous and more excited. A fine line I'm happy to cross.

  "I would ask where we're going, but I'm guessing you won't tell me."

  "Nope." Asher shakes his head.

  I've never been one for
surprises, until now. The thrill of not knowing is intoxicating, and as we leave the crowd behind, choosing different hallways, I find myself growing more intrigued.

  The silence is thick. Voices have drifted away, leaving only the scuff of our boots against the floor, the puff of our breath. We seem to be drifting higher. My thighs begin to burn with the angle of our steps until we reach a dead end.

  Asher looks back once, checking on my reaction, expectant. And then he starts climbing a ladder I did not notice, only ten or fifteen rungs. At the top, a circle waits unopened.

  My throat catches.

  "Are we…?"

  I drift off as his hand grasps a handle I can hardly make out, and then the stars fill my vision. The midnight blue sky. The shadow of trees.

  The outside.

  "Asher," I gasp, jumping to the ladder and letting him pull me up through the hole as I reach the top.

  A cold breeze licks my cheeks, ruffles my hair, and I sigh, content. I smell grass and dirt, fresh air. I hear crickets. We are in an open field patched with trees. Behind us, large shadowy houses loom, and before us it looks clear. Above me, the moon shines bright, almost full, casting a luminescent glow over Asher's pale skin, making him seem almost more than human.

  My skin was made for the sun, the caramel hue is made warmer, the gold in my jade eyes shines brighter. But Asher was made for the night. His eyes sparkle with reflections from the stars, dark and mysterious, tantalizing.

  "I…"

  But I stop. My confession burns my lips, and I hold it in. I want to tell him about my promise to the queen, my mission to betray him, but the perfection of the moment stops me. The longer I wait, the worse his reaction will be, the more betrayed he will feel, but we've already come too far it seems. How can I turn back now?

  As I watch him, I know that he broke through the queen's thrall. When he ran away as a boy, he escaped her hold. He managed to overcome. And it gives me hope, a feeling I've never really had before. With his help, I can fight her. When we kissed, I felt the curse disappear.

  Maybe he will never have to know.

  "I think you need to have a little fun," Asher says. I swallow the confession back down, bury it deep in my stomach. I will not ruin this night.

  "What did you have in mind?"

  "Just a little something," he casually drawls on, "see if you can keep up."

  And then Asher is gone, sprinting away, and I'm stopped with surprise. But not a second later, I chase after him.

  My legs pump, awakening old muscles, stretching them, using my body in a way that I've missed. I sink back into the motions easily. Years of jogging the perimeter of the wall have trained me well, and Asher is no match.

  I tap his shoulder as I pass him by, laughing as his eyes open wide with shock. My head is turned for a second too long, and I watch him dip low, pushing harder than he thought he would have too. I face forward again, determined to outrun him. I've been outpacing boys for my entire life, what's one more?

  The longer we run, the better I feel. My legs grow stronger, faster, and the world begins to blur around me.

  "Alright," Asher's faint voice shouts from behind me, "I give up."

  I turn around, light on my feet, only to see him bent at the waist, doubled over. I bite my lips, trying to keep controlled as I walk back. But these new emotions are unruly, hard to hide.

  "I hear you snickering," Asher accuses. I can't even deny it. He looks up from the grass, eyebrows raised, ready to refute any argument I make. "I'll admit, this isn't going quite how I planned. You were supposed to lose, admiring my backside the entire way there, completely overwhelmed by my awesomeness. You were not supposed to strip me of my dignity."

  "Sorry." I shrug. "But I wasn't about to just let you win."

  "I see." Asher pauses, eyes narrowing as his head fills with an idea. Something I'm not sure I'll like. "Let's try something else then."

  And before I can move, his arms surround my thighs, lifting me into the air so my torso falls over his shoulder. I have nowhere to stare except the curve of his butt and the grassy floor, which seems a little far away and not nearly as interesting.

  "Asher!" I kick my feet, but he won't let go. In fact, I'm the one who hears him snicker now. "Put me down."

  "I don't think so," he says and starts walking forward. "I should have just done this from the beginning," he mutters to himself, "why in the world did I think I could outrun you?"

  I roll my eyes. "Because boys always think they can beat me, and I always prove them wrong. Now put me down, or—"

  "Or what?" His tone is light, musical, and full of different chimes.

  Below me, the grass starts to thin. Dirt pokes through, becoming thicker, until even those disappear to what looks like wooden slabs, striped in the moonlight.

  "Asher," I warn.

  To either side of the planks rests velvet black, shimmering just slightly from the stars.

  "What?" he asks, far too innocent.

  "Don't you dare."

  "Well, when you put it like that…" He stops, shifts my weight, only pretending to set me down. His hands have inched up to my waist, gripping my hipbones.

  "Ash—" But the word disappears into a scream as I'm flung airborne with a strength I didn’t realize his arms possessed. The water prickles my skin, ice-cold, as I crash against the surface, sinking deep before my arms and legs jump into action, swimming for air.

  I take a deep gulp before I shriek, "Asher, you're dead!" My arms sliver through the liquid, back to the dock where I pull myself up and out, back to the pier. My eyes search through the darkness, needing to readjust after my sink into ebony, and I can't find him.

  Alert, I walk back to the shore.

  Movement flashes on my left and I turn, mouth dropping as Asher swings by me, zipping through the air on a rope, releasing at the peak to drop with a loud splash into the lake.

  "What?" I'm laughing. I can't help it, my anger has disappeared, replaced with a bubbly joy.

  He surfaces with an excited shout. "Come on, your turn. I said we were going to have some fun tonight."

  I nod, forgetting he can't see, and catch the swinging rope in my hand. The texture is coarse against my skin, and I follow the line until I can make out the large knot tied at the bottom, an anchor for my feet.

  "Just go for it," Asher calls from the darkness, sensing my hesitation. It's hard for me to let go, but knowing he waits to catch me, I give in.

  Stepping back slowly, I go as far as the rope allows. Taking a deep breath, I jump, released from the ground, hands burning as they grip the twine and my feet struggle to locate the knot.

  Secure, I rush toward the ground, worried that the rope will snap, but it doesn't. My body arches up, swings higher, and just as a weightlessness takes hold, I let go, soaring farther, laughter caught by the wind, and then I drop below the surface.

  Hands snake around my waist under the water, hot despite the chill, and when I emerge, Asher waits for me, face close so our noses are less than an inch away from touching.

  Our eyes meet and time stops. My heart stops beating. My mind instantly clears. All I see is him, us, in this moment. This perfect moment. Fleeting as it may be, it's ours, and no one, not even the queen, can take it away. The urgency I felt before returns, boils my blood, makes my skin buzz. I want to hold on to this moment forever, I don’t want it to end.

  My hands rise to his cheeks, and I pull his face to mine, closing the gap until our lips crush together, hungry. I drink him in, never satisfied, aching for more.

  We sink below the surface, arms entangled. My legs wrapped around his waist, and all I can think is that if this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up.

  The next morning, I jolt from my slumber, heart in my throat, fighting the urge to scream.

  The queen.

  She is watching me. Icy blue eyes haunt my dreams, bare my soul, sift through my thoughts as though they belong to her. I try to still my beating heart, to calm my pulse, but it is of no u
se.

  "Jade?"

  I yelp, stomach lunging into my throat, but it is just Asher. His eyes are still half closed in sleep, his voice is airy. Slowly, he adjusts on the bed, hand searching for mine. I can’t tell if he is asleep or awake, but I move my fingers so they find his.

  As our skin touches, memories shake the nightmare away, and I relive the lake. The cool water that almost sizzled against our flaming skin. I remember coming back to my room afterward, talking, kissing. We fell asleep on top of the covers and still in our clothes. The room smells like moss, as though we brought the outdoors inside, and now that I am not within Asher's embrace, my skin feels cool in clothes that are still damp.

  I hug myself, fighting shivers that are sure to come. I've grown unused to the chill, but now the sensation is flooding back.

  Was it just a nightmare?

  Or did the queen visit me in my sleep?

  I've never had a nightmare before, not that I can remember, but I decide that is what it must have been. Neurosis. A scare. I push the queen from my mind, determined to leave her behind.

  Asher adjusts again, sinking the bed with our weight, and his eyes begin to blink open. I watch as they clear. When they recognize my features, his entire face relaxes, glows.

  "Morning," I mutter, soft.

  "Morning," he whispers. But then his body tenses, eyes going wide. "Morning?"

  "I think." I shrug. The artificial lights are still difficult for me to read, but my body feels rested, as though hours have passed and the night is long behind us.

  Asher leaps from the bed in one long bound.

  "I'll be back in ten minutes, okay?"

  He leaves before I can gather a response, zipping from my room and closing the door behind him.

  Mute, I slide from the bed, still confused. But my skin itches against the wet clothes, scratching raw, so I change into soft worn jeans and a large sweater. By the time I have curled my hair into an unruly bun, Asher is back.

  "Is everything okay?" I ask, opening the door to greet a far more composed prince.

  "Yeah, we're just late." He grabs my hand and our fingers entwine, naturally.