Midnight Frost Page 8

  “I'll make you warm,” he whispered wrapping his arms around me, creating a flame that surrounded us in ice heat.

  “My Midnight Knight!” I kissed his scar. “I know now why I lived – why Death let me slip through its fingers twice. It was so that I could save you. So that you could come – come fight. So that we could do this thing – this crazy, impossible peace, together.”

  “Together,” he whispered, and twined his fingers through mine, kissing me with his Kian kiss that once again took my breath away.

  Chapter 11

  I woke at dawn, wrapped tightly in Kian's arms. He was fast asleep, his head nuzzled into my shoulder-blade. I allowed myself a minute to gaze luxuriously at him, sleeping, his beautiful face in peace. Back in Gregory, he would be the most gorgeous man, with that rock star sexiness, full lips and silvery blue eyes. I sprang to my feet. I wanted nothing less than to leave his embrace – so warm, so comfortable, his muscles so hard and yet his caress so soft. But I knew how much trouble it would spell for both of us if we were found out here together. The secret that Logan and I were engaged in name only was one we had to keep for all our sakes. I dressed hastily, doing my best not to wake Kian. He looked so peaceful, lying dappled by sunlight, the pink dawn transforming his ordinarily marble skin into something approaching human tone. I pressed my fingers to my lips, kissing them and transferring my fingers to his scar. It wasn't a mere accident of shape, I knew. The design was too perfect, too designed, to be anything other than magical.

  This was the Midnight Knight who lay before me. I had spent the night not only with Kian, my love, the man I knew, but with a legend. Hope and promise surged within me. And yet I bit my lip with worry. Last time the Midnight Knight had fought off the Dark Hordes, he had been dragged with them into the Gorge – never seen since. Was that to be Kian's destiny, too? I had worked so hard to bring him back from the brink of death – what if I lost him again?

  I sighed. We had spoken no more of Logan since our conversation had given way to passion, but I knew that – for all the pleasures of the night before – things would only get harder from now on. Kian had to witness us kiss once – but it was worse than that. He knew. He knew – even as I tried to tell myself I did not know – that my feelings for Logan were unresolved. I tried so hard to push them away, to forget about them, but this engagement was bringing memories to the surface that I never wanted to deal with.

  Could it be possible, I wondered, as I looked at Kian's sleeping form? Was there such a thing as true love twice over – that I could love Kian with all my soul and still have enough left over to love Logan, too? The idea of losing either of them – of never seeing either of them again – made me want to die. Things were easier in the fairy tales I'd read as a child, I thought. In fairy tales, it was so easy who was the prince and who was the wicked villain – there were no complications. Princesses never had to worry about divided affections. But here I was, in a real-live fairy tale, and there were no such easy happily ever afters.

  Even if I married Kian, I wondered, even if there came a time for us both to be the King and Queen of a United Feyland – would I still dream of Logan? Would I still wonder – would I still think of him? Would he still haunt my dreams?

  Kian groaned. “Morning,” he whispered, smiling at me. He traced a finger along my jawline.

  I whispered. “We have to get back to camp before they notice we're gone.”

  He gave a mild grumble, but with a soldier's precision he sprang to his feet, fastening his armor speedily. He looked me up and down. “How do you always look so good in the mornings?” He pulled me in for a soft kiss.

  “Magic,” I grinned, and took his hand.

  We walked out of the woods together, back towards the Manor.

  Unfortunately, we were not the only ones awake. Logan was standing by the back of the manor. I blushed crimson and tried to drop Kian's hand from mine – but it was too late. He had seen us, and he knew exactly what we had done in the woods.

  “Breakfast,” said Logan, looking at his feet.

  “Right,” I said. I looked back and forth at Kian and Logan, willing the awkwardness to go away, willing it to be easier than it was.

  “I'll go start preparing for our departure.” Kian squeezed my hand and went off, leaving me and Logan standing face to face. Alone.

  “I was just...having a midnight run,” Logan explained.

  “We were just finding some...berries.” I blushed redder.

  A silence fell over us.

  “You know,” Logan said, sighing. “It doesn't have to be like this.”

  “Like what?

  “You know...awkward.”

  “Yeah, awkward.” I shuffled a bit in my shoes. We were silent once again.

  “Look – I can't change the engagement!” Logan sighed. “We can't do anything about it. So let's just kiss and look pretty together and convince Josephine that we're still planning flower arrangements and be done with it!” His voice was gruff and rough.

  “Logan – no....”

  “What? We don't have a choice, right? You're stuck pretending to be able to tolerate me, when you really just wish I'd go away and leave you alone! I get it! But listen, Breena – I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. To keep Feyland safe. And that means...”

  “I don't wish you'd go away!” I heard myself saying, as tears sprung to my eyes. “That's the problem.”

  Logan looked stunned. He looked me up and down, his enormous brownish green eyes taking in the enormity of what I had just said. His lips spread into an almost-smile. “But you and Kian...”

  “I love Kian!” I said. “I do! But that doesn't mean...” I sighed. “What we had – when we were engaged – when the spell...”

  “I remember,” said Logan quickly.

  “Well so do I,” I said. “I remember what it was like – you and me. Together. Happy. And believe me, I don't blame you for what happened. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't anyone's fault – just that stupid spell....”

  “It was real for me,” Logan said quietly.

  “That's the thing,” I said. “I don't know if it was real for me. I mean – if it wasn't for the spell, I'd never have done what I did. Coming so close – you and I... We almost...I mean, I'd never have cheated on Kian. On anybody!”

  “I know you wouldn't have,” said Logan. “That's what I love about you. I wouldn't love you if you didn't have that...that strength about you. That morality. That power.”

  “But it's just – look, it's confusing, that's all! Because it felt real to me too. And when I think back on what happened, on the time that we spent together, I don't remember being enchanted. I don't remember being under a spell. I just remember loving you. I remember being with you. I remember kissing you – and just what that felt like – and how close we came to going all the way...And now we're engaged, Logan, and every time you kiss me I feel that memory on my lips. And I'm trying to do the right thing by you – by Kian – I'm trying not to hurt anybody. But while you and I are together, I can't do that. I can't pretend it never happened. I can't pretend I don't remember how good it felt to kiss you. Not while we're in this awful situation!”

  “It's not all awful,” said Logan. “Not from my point of view, anyway. Believe me, Breena, you have no idea how much I wish it was all real. I wish I were still holding you in my arms. I wish...” he looked away, swallowing.

  “Wish what?” I whispered.

  “I wish the spell had never been broken.” He looked into my eyes and I could feel his warmth, his compassion. He stepped closer, wanting to touch me.

  “This was so much easier before Feyland,” I said. “When we were friends. When we talked about everything. When we watched all those romantic movies and laughed at the people in them for being so dramatic...”

  “Now we're in a drama all our own,” Logan said. “Ironic, huh?”

  “I miss what we had,” I said. “Before it got all screwed up.”

  �
�Before Kian?” He had me there. I loved Kian – I wouldn't have traded my time with him for anything in the world – but my friendship with Logan was so much simpler when it was just the two of us. There was nothing in the world to keep us apart then except for the ill-fated machinations of Clarisse and his ten o'clock curfew.

  “Before all of this,” I said.

  He gathered me into his arms, holding me tight. “Just tell me one thing,” he said. “Do you still feel it – now? Do you still what I feel – so deep inside me? This longing – this desire. Does it hurt you just the way it hurts me?”

  I hesitated, drinking in the ferocity of his gaze. How could I say no – how could I lie to him – when my feelings were becoming clearer and clearer to me with every beat of my heart? And yet how could I tell the truth, and risk hurting Kian? Yet as I looked up at him, my eyes locking with his, I saw that he could recognize within my soul some deeper truth, more powerful than words, a truth that nothing I said could have covered up.

  I turned my gaze away, afraid of what he might see.

  We were interrupted by a howl. A loud shriek – one after another – filled the morning air.

  “What's that?” Logan turned to me.

  “Let's go!”

  We rushed to the front of the manor. There, standing at the gates, were thousands of werewolves – stretching as far as the eye could see – each with hackles raised, their teeth bare, howling at the sky. At the front stood Josephine, in human form, her armor glistening in the early morning sun.

  Saved by the howl, I thought, as we went to meet her.

  Chapter 12

  The wolves were ready. Logan had summoned them in the night and now they had appeared – the thousands of wolves now dedicated to the Frostfire cause. Just as many centaurs appeared as well, thanks to Cary, and although Barnaby did not hold as great a sway among the Minotaurs as Cary and Logan did among their respective species, quite a few Minotaurs had shown up too. Even a few hundred satyrs – Pan's people – were in attendance. We gasped as we saw the enormity of the army.

  “So the rumors are true,” said Josephine, her eyes settling upon Kian's armor. “You and Breena have joined forces with the Midnight Knight. My goodness. It seems the tides of those blasted Dark Hordes are about to change!”

  And so we rode. At last our detours were complete – we were riding back to Feyland, back to the Summer Court, our many thousands of soldiers at our back. They believed in the tale of the Midnight Knight, just as Kian had said – they believed in the power of the tale, and they were at last joining the war under his banner – not as centaurs, as Minotaurs, as Summer or as Winter, but as creatures of Feyland dedicated to seeing peace at any cost – even their own lives. We rode proud as we entered the Summer lands, the buds of spring turning to brilliant summer. We were not far off from the siege now, we knew, and already news of our march would have made it back to the battlefield – birds and Pegasi would have seen us, if nothing else. We would strike fear into the hearts of the Hordes, into the pixies, into all those who fought against Feyland. We would give our people hope and strength to fight another day.

  I rode with Kian at my left and Logan at my right, upon a steed one of the satyrs had brought specially for me. It was a real army, I thought with joy, looking behind me at those who followed me. An army of those who believed, as we did, in the League of Frostfire. My heart surged with joy. We had managed to do this together – Logan, Kian, and I – the three of us, joined together by our friendship and by our oaths, by our love. I was so proud of both of them, so happy to have them both by my side. How could I ever lose either of them, ever choose just one?

  At last it came time for us to make camp, two days from the battle site. We built an enormous fire in the Valley of Sunset, piling sticks and branches high as the conflagration blazed, offering all of us welcome heat.

  The wolves had transformed into human form now, and were contributing their strength to the building of the campsite. Logan looked on proudly.

  “Look at them,” he said to me. “Look at them – my men and women!” The smile on his face was clearly puppyish in its intensity. “Just a sec...”

  He stood up, emitting a great howl that shook the sides of the valley. At once, the packs all responded as one, howling in unison as they bowed before him.

  “My fellow Wolves,” Logan said. “Some of you know me well. Some of you know of me – or else knew my grandfather. My Grandfather was a great man and a great wolf both, and if he were alive today he would tell you the same thing that I am about to tell you.” He drew himself up to his full height. “I am Logan, the Prince of Wolves, soon to be King of Summer. But I am not here as a Prince, or as a King. I am here as a Knight – a Knight of the League of Frostfire. I fight for peace. I fight for good. I fight for strength. I fight for all of those who want to live freely, love freely, travel freely from the snowiest peaks of Mount Gerezim to the tropics and seas of the Summer Shores. And I have never been prouder to fight the good fight than when seeing you all before me – witnessing your strength, your courage, your commitment to what is good.”

  The wolves all howled with approval.

  “For if we do not fight, Feyland as we know it shall perish. The Dark Hordes will wipe out Summer, then Winter. They will turn to the Wolves, to the Centaurs, to the Minotaurs. They will even turn on the Pixies who have dared summon them – for nobody is safe against them. They will turn trees to ash and turn fruits to maggots. But we will not let them! We will not give up! We will never dream of surrendering!”

  My heart swelled with pride. How was it that Logan – my old friend, so affable and kind and well-meaning – could also be so strong, so admired?

  “And best of all!” He gave the audience a great smile. “I don't have to do it alone. I have by my side another who supports the same cause, who promises Wolves full participation in a united Feyland. No longer will wolves be marginalized, outsiders, on the fringes of Feyland. We will be part of the Summer Court itself. All thanks to my bride, the very love of my life, my adored one – Breena!”

  I gasped in surprise, but it was too late. Logan gathered me up into his arms and kissed me with a greater passion than he had ever kissed me before. Before he had been kind, wary, afraid that I would rebuff him – now there were no such fears. He held me tightly in his arms, parting my lips gently with his tongue, feeling me melt into his arms.

  The wolves began to howl and hoot – those who had not turned applauded. The sound was exhilarating – it was the sound of victory, the sound of all those who believed in us.

  I knew I had to kiss him back – the crowd demanded it. So I wrapped my arms around his neck, opened my lips to his kiss, moved into him. It was only acting, I told myself. But I knew that my heartbeat told the truth, as it fluttered faster and faster, my body syncing with his, our rhythms connecting, colliding. There was no acting here, I knew. I was kissing Logan for real, even as my heart cried out for Kian.

  I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He was crestfallen. I had never seen such pain in his eyes, not since I had first spurned him while under Wort's spell. My heart ached for him. I tried to convince myself that he knew it was only an act – he had, after all, suggested the deception, but I knew that it wasn't true. My love for Logan was too strong; it was written all over my face.

  Why had he done that? He knew my trouble, the complications of me and Kian. Why would he force me to kiss him like that in front of all these people?

  That night, as we made camp, I pulled Logan aside into the woods.

  “How could you do that?” I asked him. “In front of all those people? In front of Kian! You didn't have to.”

  “Of course I did!” Logan pretended not to know what I was talking about. “Look at the crowd – they ate it up. They loved it. In our kiss they saw the promise of a fully integrated Wolfhood into Feyland. The promise of a Wolf heir on the fairy throne.”

  “Come off it!” I said, unable to resist giving him a shove. “That's not why.�
��

  “No, it isn't.” He turned to me. His voice was calm, more confident than it had been previously. He radiated strength, power. “I did it to show you the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “You love me, Breena. I saw it in your eyes. I know you want me to be strong – to be chivalrous. To resist my love for you. But I'm not that strong. Not enough to think of you, how you almost died, to see your hair and face illuminated by the firelight, to have you so close to me, and not to kiss you.” He pulled me towards him, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck. “No man is as strong as that.” He gave a hollow laugh. “Kian, perhaps. Perhaps he did the chivalrous thing and stayed away. But I'm not that honorable, Breena. I want you. I want you with every fiber of my being and I know you want it too. Fate has thrust us together. Why are we denying it? Our bodies. Our souls. We're engaged!”

  “But what about Kian...” I tried to explain, tried to make him understand the tangle of my thoughts. But I couldn't tell Logan about what had happened on the mountain – the proof of my love for Kian, sanctified by my sacrifice. I couldn't break his heart like that. I hesitated for only a moment – but it was a moment too long.

  Logan pulled me roughly towards him, seeking my mouth with his own, the familiar smell of his musk sending shivers up and down my spine. There was no audience, now. No self-deception – no way to convince myself that this was anything but real. And I felt myself grow hungry for him: for his kiss, for his touch, for his warmth. For this unbridled desire – so different from Kian's chivalrous self-denial. Would Kian have done the same thing, I couldn't help but wonder? Would he overcome all his chivalry, all his honor, to grab hold of my wrists and make me confront this passion inside me.

  I didn't resist as he pulled me to the ground.

  “If you didn't love me,” Logan said, his voice hot with excitement. “You wouldn't be here – with me. Right now. You're not ready to make your choice yet – not ready to give up on us. Because I'm not ready, Breena. If you could look at me – really look at me and swear that you didn't love me, it'd be different. I'd leave. I'd go. But I know that isn't true. And now that I know that...” He sighed. “When that Kian-clone stabbed you, I thought you were dead. I mourned for you. But now you're here. Alive. You get a second chance at life, Breena. A second chance to make the right choice.”