Page 31

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

I t’s abnormal to be perfectly happy with your sausage hanging out in the biting cold. I know I wouldn’t enjoy my nipples being frozen. I’m definitely more of a heat licking across my skin type of maiden.

“How far?” Nash demands of Mr. Yak.

The strange man peers over his shoulder at us. “We have an hour to trek, perhaps two. It depends on where the portal settles.”

“Another moving doorway?” Malachi grumbles. “Anyone would think these brothers don’t want to be found.”

“Then you would be exactly right,” Mr. Yak informs us. “It’s been a while since we saw them in these parts. They prefer to remain away from the action, but with how things have been shifting and narratives going awry, it’s about time they paid attention to us once more.”

“Awry how?” Theo asks.

“We have been waiting for the prophecy to begin for years here in Frostmere. Living under the Snow Queen’s rule wasn’t supposed to span this length of time. It’s not right. The magic is being forced. The sacrifice must be made, or we will lose this realm to the queen forever.”

“Don’t you get a do over?” Charming asks. “Where we are from, there are multiple people vying for those top spots to fulfil the narrative, and it repeats with each generation.”

Mr. Yak snorts. “You get the chance to perfect your lives? How fortunate. No, here it’s do or die.”

“Same for me,” I mutter, reminding us all why we are on this quest to begin with.

“You are foretold to die?” he asks. “How do you feel about that?”

“We all die. It’s just the matter of where, when, and how that I’m trying to control.”

“No one can control fate.”

“I beg to differ,” I counter.

“If anyone can, it’s you,” Gwyneth says. Warmth swells in my chest at her confidence in my abilities.

The next turn is spent in almost complete silence as we delve deeper into the forest. Our cloaks become heavier, dragging across the ground as snow piles on the fur. The tip of my nose tingles, and I can’t feel my lips any longer. Snowflakes cling to my eyelashes, making me blink to keep my focus.

“This weather is becoming treacherous,” Hart grumbles. “If it gets any worse, we will need to find shelter.”

“Almost to the lake,” Mr. Yak says from up ahead.

Lake? Like a gigantic body of icy water? A shudder runs over my shoulders. Will there be problems because of the whole Lady of the Lake situation? And won’t we perish if we try to swim in it?

Theo and Nash share a look before glancing at me. They aren’t keen on me going anywhere near a lake, either. Good to know we are on the same page. Perhaps this portal is tucked inside a cozy, heated cottage at the edge of the lake? Nobody could accuse me of being a pessimist.

The trees thin, and the huge frozen lake appears in front of us.

Forget swimming—we’re about to make a death-defying dash across an ice rink.

This has disaster written all over it. The nightmare lingers on the edges of my mind.

I’ve never had prophetic dreams before. I’m sure it is just my subconscious putting together a scenario that is highly likely.

Theo isn’t even in his dragon form. This is fine. Everything is fine.

“Now what?” Gwyneth asks as she eyeballs the lake with concern.

Everything is not fine.

“It’s thick enough to take our weight, I assure you,” Mr. Yak declares as he trots onto the ice and spins to face us. Oh, his sausage has made a retreat. Nope, wait.

“Stop looking at it, for Idol’s sake,” Hart growls. “If you keep doing that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Nash steps forward, and the creak of the huge glistening ice echoes around us. There aren’t any cracks, at least. But if one of us is making it groan, perhaps we should take this one person at a time?

Malachi jumps on. Everyone sucks in a breath, but he stays upright and unswallowed by the dark water lurking beneath.

“See? Nothing to fear,” he declares.

Gwyneth puts one graceful foot forward and takes a few tentative steps onto the lake. Her shoulders relax, and she turns to nod at us. “I think with how thick this ice is, it will easily hold us and many more.”

“Holding me isn’t my issue,” I point out as Theo and Hart flank me. “It’s staying upright.”

The knights loop my arms with theirs as we step onto the ice.

Look at that. I’m walking on ice and not falling over.

Ha. Take that, Idols. It’s like I’m walking on air.

Wait. I glance down, finding my feet moving but not touching the ground.

I huff at the two burly knights who are holding me up in the air.

“You didn’t even let me try,” I snap. “I could have gained a new appreciation for less calamity.”

“You have been less prone lately,” Theo acknowledges. “But let’s not test it now.”

“Gwyneth, do you need assistance?” Charming queries. Wait, he’s behind us?

I glance over my shoulder. He’s still dancing around the edge, clearly troubled by the ice.

“To do that, Charming, you will need to be brave and get your shit together,” Hart calls out. “I know it’s a struggle. Don’t fret, though. I’m sure Malachi can help Gwyneth.”

My lips twitch as a string of curses erupts from behind us. Prince Poopfloof rushes past us and barrels into Gwyneth, tackling her to the ground and making her yelp as her ass bounces on the ice.

“Real smooth,” Malachi comments.

“Help,” Charming shouts. “I think it’s breaking.”

“Whose fault is that?” Gwyneth snaps. “Also, it’s not breaking. Get off me.”

Charming struggles to his feet and offers her his hand. She slaps it away with a growl as she pulls herself up. “I apologize. I panicked,” he says as they walk. “Open bodies of water are terrifying.”

Ah, I see. “You can’t swim?”

His cheeks pinked. “It was never a priority,” he confirms.

“I can teach you,” Gwyneth says. She’s an amazing teacher. Anyone who can get a skill to stick in my head is awesome.

“That would be wonderful,” he agrees quickly.

I scowl. “Don’t get any bright ideas, Charming. My sister’s floof is still not yours to claim unless she says so.”

“I am all about consent,” he says with a glare aimed my way. “I would never take advantage.” I roll my eyes. This coming from the man who forcibly woos maidens because the damn slipper fits at his will.

We fall into silence as we follow Mr. Yak over the never-ending ice slab. Well, they follow. I’m being carried.

We are in the middle of the darn lake when a faint jingle touches my ears.

I tilt my head, trying to decide if it’s real, or a made up tune in my head.

Sometimes, when I’m bored, I hear music.

Mr. Yak freezes, and he wobbles his head as if trying to detect the direction of the music in my head. It’s over here, idiot.

“Do you hear that?” Theo mumbles.

“The jingling?” I check. Because that might still be in my mind, and the rest of them could be hearing something different.

“Oh, no,” Mr. Yak shouts as he clutches his hair. “No, no, no.”

I take it the jingling isn’t good.

“Do we run?” Charming demands.

“It’s too late.” Mr. Yak turns to face our group. “Listen to me. There’s a specific yet simple rule when entering the queen’s kingdom.”

Good. I can do singular and simple. I glance around at the knights. Okay, I can do quads and complicated too, but only when it comes to my knights. For everything else, simple is the way to go.

“What’s the rule?” Nash asks.

“Don’t eat anything she offers, no matter how tempting. If you do, she will bewitch you.”

I groan. Anything but food. That is impossible. “Bewitch how?” I check. Even though he isn’t spelling it out, he has to know the specifics.

Mr. Yak blinks. “Does it matter?”

The jingling draws closer. “Well, if it’s a charm to make us believe she’s pretty, then I can live with that. But if it’s a spell to make me forget my knights, that’s more problematic.”

Mr. Yak opens his mouth and snaps it shut.

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t eat anything,” Theo says.

Good luck, buddy. Nobody has succeeded in that in all my annuses.

A sleigh appears through the thick snow, hurtling toward us, drawn by a gang of white wolves.

It slides to a stop with an eerie precision, the wolves snapping at the air as they pant cold mist into the frozen world around us.

A deathly silence follows, the kind that presses against your skin like the weight of an impending storm.

Tall as a nightmare and twice as cruel, the Snow Queen steps from the sleigh, her gown a sweeping cascade of ice and silver frost threading through the sheer fabric as if the cold itself is woven into her being.

Her hair, white as fallen snow, cascades in perfect waves down her back, catching the light in a way that makes it look more like frozen silk than anything human.

Her skin, pale and flawless, could belong to a marble statue, a beauty carved with such precision it leaves you uncertain if she was ever meant to move at all.

But her eyes? Those are bright with an unnatural glow, an arctic blue so piercing they could slice through stone. When they land on us, my entire body seizes like prey caught in the gaze of something that does not believe in mercy.

The queen smiles then, slow and deliberate, like she’s savoring a private joke only she understands.

“What a delightful surprise. Travelers, so far from home.” Her voice is honey dipped in frost, beautiful but carrying the promise of something sharp hidden beneath the sweetness.

She steps forward, the hem of her gown gliding over the ice like it isn’t even touching the ground.

“I must insist you join me for dinner at my palace,” she continues, and though her tone is light, there is nothing gentle about the way her gaze lingers.

I open my mouth to politely decline, but she lifts a gloved hand before I can get a word out.

“Ah, ah,” she tsks, tilting her head. “That wasn’t a request, my dear.”

Shit.

“Respectfully, we are in a bit of a hurry,” Nash says, stepping slightly in front of me.

“Yes, and so am I,” the Snow Queen replies, a slow, amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “So, let’s make this simple, shall we?” She lifts her hand and snaps her fingers.

The ice groans beneath us, and figures molded from frost and magic appear, their forms shimmering like glass, weapons already drawn.

What are they? Ice warriors? Shamelessly, my gaze drops to check if their genitalia is one, covered, or two, lively.

They are neither; they don’t have them. How do they pee?

“Yeah, okay, this is excessive,” Malachi mutters, glancing between them. “A simple ‘please’ would have sufficed.”

“You misunderstand.” The Snow Queen’s gaze locks onto mine, the amusement in her expression shifting into something darker, something sharper. “I have waited far too long for a proper dinner guest.” She glances at Gwyneth. “And now I have two.”

Then, with a flick of her wrist, the ice warriors surge forward.

One slams into Nash, sending him skidding across the ice with a grunt, while another snatches Gwyneth’s arm, twisting her forward with impossible strength. Malachi and Theo fight back, but the frozen creatures swiftly overpower them.

I don’t even get a chance to react before one of them seizes me by the waist and hoists me into the air.

“I swear to Idols, if your hand strays—” I don’t get to finish my threat, because the damn thing hurls me onto the back of the sleigh like I’m a sack of potatoes.

A very disgruntled sack of potatoes. Guards toss the others in beside me in a series of graceless landings—except for Gwyneth, who somehow lands with all the elegance of a queen.

Show-off.

The moment we’re secured, the Snow Queen climbs into the sleigh, settling into her seat as if she isn’t a complete lunatic who just kidnapped an entire group of people.

She waves a hand, and the wolves snarl before launching forward, the sleigh jolting into motion.

Nash clasps his hands around my stomach and holds me tight against him.

“Perfect,” she purrs, clasping her hands together in satisfaction. “We shall have such fun.”

I highly doubt her version of fun and mine align.

Mr. Yak wriggles his way to the top of the pile. Don’t look. Don’t look. Ugh, clearly people piles also make him happy. “Remember what I told you,” he whispers before hurling himself over the side of the sleigh and skidding over the ice. The queen glances over her shoulder and sniffs.

“What did he tell us?” I whisper.

“Don’t eat the food,” Nash murmurs in my ear.

Right. My stomach growls low.

Malachi runs a hand down his face. “We’re fucked.”