Page 36

Chapter

Thirty-Two

L arge tents dot the lush garden behind the cottage, a fire crackling in the center, sending sparks up toward the sky, where stars scatter across the vast darkness like forgotten wishes.

The others settle around the flames, exhaustion settling into their bones.

Gwyneth curls up beside Charming, murmuring softly.

Their budding romance seems sweet. Maybe Charming has changed his ways.

I trust my sister to know what’s best for her.

Theo leans against a tree, using a blade he stole from the kitchen to sharpen a large stick into a pointy weapon. Malachi and Hart pass a flask of something alcoholic between them, their laughter quiet and subdued, the weight of the last few diurnals pressing down on us all.

I sit apart, knees pulled to my chest, staring into the flickering embers.

My gaze flicks over one of the tents. A lantern swings from the center, a welcoming beacon.

I should sleep. I should close my eyes and let the exhaustion take me, but every time I do, I see him.

His smile, his teasing words, the steady and unwavering belief in me—and then the image of him falling, the way the ice swallowed him whole, and how helpless I had been to stop it.

I can’t breathe.

I push to my feet, my hands shaking as I wrap my arms around my rib cage. The cool night air is sharp against my skin as I step away from the fire. I don’t know where I’m going, only that I need to move.

“Where are you going?” Gwyneth calls out.

“Not far. I just need some space.”

“Stay within the garden boundaries,” Jacob calls out. “You are safe up to the river that runs around the property.”

I give him a thumbs up as Sir Sweeps-A-Lot brushes against my ankle. I grab his handle. “Stay here.”

He floats to the ground, sad that I’ve instructed him to leave me alone. But my people-pleasing energy is at an all-time low, and I can’t breathe when everyone is watching me like I’m two tempos away from losing my shit.

I need privacy to fall apart, to scream to the stars in the sky that they stole a light too soon. I need to reason with the powers in the realm to return a soul to this world. My breath gets stuck in my throat as I remember I’m about to be that power.

I leave behind the warmth of the camp and plunge into the darkness of the trees.

The forest hums with life, the rustling of leaves, the whisper of creatures unseen. Nothing threatening, simply curious. My boots crunch against the earth as I move, the pain in my chest unbearable.

I don’t hear him approach, not at first. It’s only when a shadow moves between the trees that I sense him. Nash.

“What are you doing?” His voice is low but sharp, like a blade honed to perfection.

I don’t stop walking. “Go back to camp, Nash.”

“No.” He steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Not until you tell me what you’re doing out here alone.”

“Thinking.”

“Dangerously?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Always.”

His gaze darkens, frustration flickering across his features. “You don’t have to be alone.”

“Don’t I?” I snap, my emotions unraveling faster than I can control. “Because it sure feels like I do. You are all back there joking and drinking like we didn’t just witness a friend give their life to save ours.”

His jaw clenches. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” My voice rises, my chest heaving. “Eron is dead, Nash. I can’t bring him back. I can’t fix this. And now I’m supposed to what? Move on? Embrace my destiny? Pretend like my heart isn’t breaking?”

His eyes flash with something unreadable. “No one is asking you to pretend, Daphne.”

“What are you asking me to do, then?”

He steps closer, his presence a solid force against the storm raging inside me. “To stop running. To let someone be here for you. To let me be here for you.”

I shake my head. “You can’t fix this.”

“No,” he admits, his voice rough. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”

The weight of his words slams into me. The intensity in his eyes, the promise laced between each syllable. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

“Talk to me. Rage, yell, give me anything but this closed down half version of yourself.”

I snort, but the humor is absent. “You don’t want to go there with me, Nash Stirling.”

“What does that mean?”

I point at him. “You asked for it. You want to talk about half versions of one’s self?

Why don’t we start with what you have been hiding from me?

” His eyes widen. “Don’t you dare claim you don’t know what I’m talking about,” I snap.

“I may be clumsy little Daphne from Strongfair, but I am not stupid, so don’t treat me as such. ”

He inches closer, and I tilt my chin in the air and stare him down defiantly.

His lips twitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look as stunning as you do right now. Wild, angry, determined.”

“Heartbroken,” I snarl. “I didn’t take you for a sadist.”

He tilts his head. “I have never thought you stupid, nor will I ever treat you as such. Having a unique view of the world around you may make you misunderstood, feared even, but that’s one of the things that draws me to you.

We are surrounded by static, rigid stories with no creativity and folks who blindly follow what they have been taught all their lives.

Then you come along and upend everything we know.

You create new worlds and exciting adventures.

Being with you is intoxicating. I find myself searching a room for you to see what you are doing.

I try to predict what is going to happen next, and find pleasure in the fact I am wrong every single time. ”

“You are avoiding the question with pretty compliments,” I snap.

“No, I’m laying the groundwork for the fact I have never thought you stupid. Unconventional? Sure. Unintelligent? Never.”

“Groundwork laid. Now answer the damn question or leave me in peace.”

“What do you think I am?”

“Stop answering questions with questions,” I demand. Fury rises in my veins. Why won’t anyone give me a straight answer?

“I can’t answer you,” he says slowly.

I huff and stride past him, shouldering his chest because he’s stupidly tall.

He grabs my elbow and spins me to face him.

I yank my arm free, his touch burning my flesh.

It would be so easy to give in to everything he wants, to forget about my determination to get a straight answer.

But if I let this go now, he will see it as weakness.

“Daphne, stop,” he growls as he gets in my face and pushes me against a tree. My back hits it, knocking the breath out of my lungs. “Listen to what I am saying.” He leans in close enough that his breath whispers across my lips. “I can’t answer you.”

My heart thuds once, twice, thrice. He can’t answer me. Can’t—not won’t.

“Show me,” I whisper as I grab his shirt and press my lips against his.

One of his hands tangles in my hair, yanking on the strands to tip my head back, and the other grasps my hip, drawing my body against his. Heat sparks between us, something electric and desperate, and the world narrows to the space between us.

His lips are firm, demanding, filled with something unspoken. I pour everything into the kiss—my grief, my anger, my longing for something, anything, to tether me back to the present.

And Nash gives it all back to me.

His fingers tighten against my hip, pulling me impossibly closer, making the evidence of his erection a hot brand against my stomach.

A quiet sound escapes my throat, and that seems to snap something inside him.

The kiss deepens, his hands mapping the curve of my spine, his body pressing against mine as if he can mold me back together, piece by broken piece.

My fingernails rake down his back in silent demand. More.

He stills, and his entire body goes rigid. I barely register it at first, lost in the haze of desperation. But then I feel it—the sharpness pressing against my lips. I pull back, breathless, and my stomach drops.

His teeth. They’re different. Elongated. Sharper. Predatory.

He turns his head away, his breath ragged, hands trembling where they still rest on me. “You should go.” His voice is hoarse, edged with something dark and barely restrained.

My heart slams against my ribs. “Nash?”

He swallows hard, still refusing to look at me. “Daphne. Walk away.”

I don’t. I step closer. “No. Explain what you can.”

His fists clench, and when he finally meets my gaze, his eyes are different. Darker. Wild. Something animalistic lurks behind them. “You want to know what I am?”

The weight of his words makes the world tilt. My pulse is a frantic drumbeat in my ears. He exhales sharply before he opens his mouth wider, displaying a pair of razor-sharp fangs.

I suck in a shocked breath and swallow. He steps back from me, but I catch his wrist and follow him as my mind struggles to make sense of what I’m seeing.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he murmurs.

I shake my head. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” he utters hoarsely.

“Why, Nash?” My fingers reach out to skim his cheekbones. They are more pronounced. It’s subtle, but I’ve mapped each of the Stirlings in great detail. He shivers under my caress.

“I am cursed, Daphne. I am not only your protector—I am your predator. And if I lose control, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

A chill slithers down my spine. The night suddenly feels much, much darker. But I have a reprieve from the heavy weight of grief, and it’s addictive.

“Perhaps I want to be caught,” I tell him.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I never do.”

My dark knight, always in control, always considered and logical…

now it all makes sense. He’s keeping this side of him locked down.

I rise to my tiptoes and brush my lips against his.

“Love isn’t about control, Nash. It’s not about hiding the parts of ourselves we think the other doesn’t want to see.

It’s acceptance of the good, the bad, and the beautifully dark. ”

“Acceptance doesn’t make me safer, and my dark outweighs everything else,” he mutters as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. At least he’s stopped trying to run from me now.

“Do you want to hurt me?” I check as I feather kisses over his jaw.

“Never.”

“Then nothing else matters.”

He runs his nose along my jaw and breathes me in. “Love?” he questions as I tilt my head back and offer him my throat in surrender. My pulse thrums under the delicate flesh.

“Yes.”

“And what would you do for love, Daphne?” he growls.

I lean back to stare into his eyes, tight with uncertainty. Can’t he see that he accepted all that I am without limits, and I can return that for him? For them all?

“Nothing,” I whisper as my fingers thread through his hair.

I yank him closer until our foreheads are touching.

“It has already claimed me. I don’t do it for love, because my love for you is all-encompassing.

It is not a separate thing; we have cracked ourselves open and restitched ourselves back together, creating an unbreakable bond.

So the question isn’t what I would do for love, but what wouldn’t I do for you? ”

“And the answer?”

“The same. Nothing.”

Nash kisses the hot tears spilling onto my cheeks with an aching tenderness that simultaneously breaks my heart and mends my soul. His lips caress mine, this time in a soft whisper, a promise to always be here for me no matter what life throws at us.

A shrill sound splits the air, tearing us apart. Nash’s eyes flash gold before settling back to their familiar green. The magic surrounding us presses closer with a familiar pressure.

“She’s here,” I say as I break apart from Nash and start running toward camp, where louder shouts disturb the wildlife.

“Who?” Nash snarls from behind me.

I pant as the trees part, revealing the tents.

Ice warriors spill into the garden, surrounding everyone.

Theo growls low, his body trembling. Malice emerges from behind a warrior, opens her palm, and blows a shimmering gold substance over Theo.

He twitches, his panicked eyes finding mine.

There will be no dragon to save us this night.

Malice smirks at me. “I warned you, Daphne. Now you will pay with your heart so that I can take your power.”

“Can this night get any worse?” Jacob mutters as he runs his fingers through his hair.

The Snow Queen emerges through a portal. Rage burns my flesh as I come face to face with Eron’s murderer. Yes, this can absolutely get worse.