Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(42)

And there was his scent, richer and earthier than the forest around me, with the faintest notes of a clear, rocky mountain stream.

I didn’t feel like a mere changeling right now. I felt like a hunter. And I knew exactly where Torin was, just a few feet away, his heart a hammer against his ribs, just like mine.

I blocked out the piercing cold and lunged forward, striking for his face again. The moment my hand connected with his jaw, the magic slid away, and I could see the feral look in Torin’s eyes once more.

He gripped my arm, wrenching it behind my back again, and pressed me against the trunk of a tree, his enormous body close to mine. The bark was rough against my face, but exhilaration lit up my nerves. Sparring with Torin was truly addictive.

“What do you have to be angry about?” I tried to catch my breath. “You have everything anyone could want. Or you will soon, anyway.”

“And you?” he whispered in my ear. “How much responsibility weighs on the delicate shoulders of a marginally employed bartender?”

I brought my heel down hard into his foot, and his grip loosened. I thrust my hips into him, throwing him off.

I whirled and took a swing at him, but he caught my fist, then snatched my other wrist, pinning both arms above my head against the tree trunk.

Right where he wanted me—again. My core tightened with his face close to mine, his breath hot on my throat. With my wrists pressed against the trunk and his muscled body firm against mine, I felt desire coil tight within me. I breathed in his earthy scent, my blood heating. Torin’s head nestled into the crook of my neck, and I heard him inhale deeply, drinking in my scent. He stiffened, pressing harder against me, his knee between my thighs.

And here was the thing I knew—among humans, sniffing each other like this was very fucking weird. But it was a fae instinct, one I hadn’t known I had. And while it was natural, deep down, it was also shockingly intimate.

“No responsibilities?” My breath was coming fast. “You don’t know the first thing about me,” I gasped, the cold air stinging my lungs.

He raised his face again, and our clouds of breath twined together in the frozen night air. “Nor you me. That is why you are perfect, my changeling And that is why I crave your company.” His eyes closed, and his lips brushed against mine.

Even though the touch was light, it sent molten heat sliding through my core. The effect was instant, like I was melting over the ice.

With a short gasp of breath, he pulled away, dropping his grip on me.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I should not have done that.”

I stared at him, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

It was hard to breathe. “What are we even doing here? You choose the winner. Why do I need to practice so much?”

He turned, moving into the shadows, then paused to look back at me. “Do you want to see something? A view of my kingdom? I have whiskey.”

“And will you tell me all your secrets, and why I’m here?” I followed him down a winding path we’d never taken before, slightly overgrown with brambles. Moonlight pierced the branches above us, and silver light danced over the snow beneath our feet.

He flashed me a wry smile. “Maybe. I will tell you this, Ava. I need to make sure you survive this tournament. The final trial can be bloody, and it’s my job to ensure you make it through alive. I don’t need any more deaths on my hands. I don’t want the ghost of Ava Jones to haunt me.” He pulled out a little silver flask and took a sip. “I have enough vengeful spirits on my case as it is.”

I huffed a laugh, and the cold air stung my lungs. “How many deaths, exactly, do you have on your hands?”

His jaw clenched. “If I don’t choose a queen, the numbers will be in the hundreds of thousands.

And as for the past…” He met my gaze, his eyes blazing in the dim light. “A king is expected to participate in duels in times of peace, and I have. A king is supposed to show that he has the power to defeat the demons and monsters, but it’s really to prove to the clan kings that none of them should think of rising against their high king. So I have killed noble fae in duels, a bloodletting to keep the peace. Here in Faerie, the high king is like a god. But I must prove it to them over and over.”

I swallowed hard. “And a queen should be able to do the same?”

He glanced at me sideways. “And that’s why we keep practicing, yes.”

“So, the deaths that haunt you, they’re from these duels?”

His eyes glittered in the darkness. “There’s one death that weighs most heavily on my mind, and that, my changeling, is a secret that will die with me.”

Of course, that was the very secret I had to know.

He handed me his flask, and I took a long sip. The peaty taste rolled over my tongue.

The dark forest started to thin as we moved up a steep slope, and the wind whipped through the trees. At the top of the hill, the craggy land sheered off and sloped down. The view from here was breathtaking—a mountainous region surrounding a valley with a frozen lake, silvered under the moonlight. Snow dusted black slopes around the valley, and towering castles jutted from their peaks, windows beaming with warm light in the distance.

I stared at the beauty of Faerie. “Holy shit.”

Torin climbed onto a large rock, dusting off the snow to make a spot for me. Oak boughs arched over us.