Page 23 of Frost
Jack hands me a second icicle. This one is long and sharp—a pike of ice.Perfect. Grabbing the cold crystals, I move back towards Hans’ paling form. He looks angry, even close to death.
“You fucking bitch,” he whimpers. “I’m going to—”
I cut him off before he can finish his thought. I’ve heard enough of his shit. With a firm grip, I shove the sharpened spear into his face. A scream of pain and fury slips from my lips as my weapon pierces his eye. I feel the pop as the muscle gives and blood begins to pour from the socket, but I don’t stop. I continue to shove until I meet the resistance of his skull.
“A hand please, Daddy,” I ask when I’m no longer able to push the icicle further.
“Of course, my queen.”
Jack steps behind me, wrapping his hands around the ice below mine. He growls, the sound vibrating my back. Then he pushes. I can feel the moment the thin sphenoid bone gives, allowing the icy instrument to enter his brain. Only then do we release the spike, allowing Hans’ body to collapse to the dirty ground below. The bloody icicle sticks straight out of his skull.
“He will bleed out within moments, Snow Angel.” Jack places his hand on my shoulder. “It’s time for us to go home.”
I haven’t had a place that held a sense of home in a very longtime. Not since my parents were murdered. But as the sled crests the hill and we enter theMyrkviðr,a sense of calm contentment settles over me. This place, these trees, they feel like home.
“Daddy?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence we’ve been riding in on our way home. “I hate to ask, but I’m covered in blood. Could we go back to Hans’ cabin and grab some clothes?”
Father Winter looks down at me lovingly, his chiseled human face tics in uncertainty. He changed back into his human form so we could slip from the alley without drawing attention. The entire ride home, he’s held me close, touching me, holding me, driving me wild. Ineedhim. But first, I need to get out of this blood-soaked dress.Faðir’sdark eyes scan mine.
“I’d prefer you not have any clothes, pretty girl.” His hand slips high up my thigh, skimming beneath the hem of my dress. “Free for me to take and use, whenever I please.”
I squirm, his words sending tingles of need between my legs. I want to be used, taken, and owned by my monster Daddy.
“I’m yours to use,” I pant as his fingers slide against the thin cotton of my panties teasingly. “But it’s also cold.”
“Smoke,” he says as his forehead furrows in concern and he removes his hand. He turns to look between the trees. “Fire.”
We speed towards the cabin, the reindeer rushing between the thick firs with grace. Snow hangs along the evergreen needles, glistening in the low light of the moon. As we draw closer, I smell it too. There’s definitely a fire. In just a few moments, the sled bursts through the trees and we enter the clearing. The sight there takes my breath away.
“Völva!” My fierce monster roars as he exits the sled, making his way towards the fire beyond. Annoyance radiates off him in waves. “What in the name of theAlføðrare you doing?”
In the center of the clearing, right outside the cabin, a large fire blazes. Inside the dancing flames is what appears to be a large pyre made of wood. In a circle, surrounding the fire arebodies, bodies of women, some long dead it appears, laid neatly in the soft snow. Among them dances an old woman who seems to be swaying to the beat of a drum that only she can hear. It’s a mystical and macabre display that I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from.
“Hello,Faðir,” the old woman croons without missing a beat. Something about her seems familiar and yet I can’t place it. “I see you’ve returned with blood on your hands and yourSkaðiron your arm.”
“What are you doing?” Jack asks again as she continues to dance among the flames.
I join them around the fire, the heat from the flames warming my skin. I stare down at one of the women laid across the ground. Her eyes stare up at the heavens above, clouded, vacant, lifeless. Despite the decay, I can tell she was once a beautiful girl. A girl who deserved to live a long life full of love.
And Hans took that from her. He deserved everything he got.
“They, like all beautiful creatures of this earth, deserve a proper send off,Faðir!” She answers while she continues to sway and dance, mimicking the movements of the flames. Now that I’m closer, I can see her face has been painted with runes. “Their souls called to me, begging for peace.”
He nods solemnly, glancing between the bodies displayed among the snow. His expression is cold and hard. I know he’s wishing Hans had suffered even more, just as I am.
“We’re going in to grab a few things. Burn the cabin once we’re out,” he declares before sliding his hand into mine, our fingers interlocking. Despite the cold, his touch sears my skin with desire.
The older woman’s eyes blaze brighter than the fire as she takes in his words. The promise of righteous destruction seems to stoke an ember of chaos buried beneath her wrinkles and gray hair.
“With pleasure,Faðir,” she cackles as her movements become wilder.
Without a second’s hesitation, I’m bolting into the cabin. It dawns on me that this place must have been a house of horrors to many women who came before me.
“Break down that door,” I demand as we enter the home, indicating the locked door on the side of the kitchen.
I can’t not know.
Jack throws a concerned glance my way before letting out a small sigh and kicking at the door. It immediately gives, the wood splintering from the lock, and the door swinging open. And as it does, part of me wishes it hadn’t.