Frost Kisses (Bitter Frost #4: Frost Series) Read online

  “Daisy!” I cried, rushing to the horse. It was the same horse I had stolen from the Pixie kingdom, and ridden all the way into the Feyland forests. I had been sorry to lose the horse when Kian and I had tumbled off the cliff, but from the looks of things Daisy had been able to find us again. She whinnied with glee and galloped up to me. “I know this horse,” I said to Logan. I turned to Kian. “She must have been able to find us by our scent....”

  “A pixie horse…” Kian noted, looking at the green tint of Daisy’s coat. “Strongest trackers of all Feyland horses. This certainly makes things easier,” said Kian, producing an apple from his saddle-bag and proffering it to the horse, which gobbled it joyfully and noisily. “Breena and I can ride while the Wolf transforms into his original form.”

  Logan shot us both a look of steaming jealousy, and my heart broke for him. I knew that our love had been only a spell, but even now seeing him in pain made me want to cry. I couldn't make him suffer – not when he had been so noble, not when he had sacrificed so much. “It'll slow us down if we're both on the horse,” I said to Kian. “You take Daisy and I'll walk with Logan – you can ride on ahead and scout for us.”

  “Nonsense,” said Logan. “You'll ride on me.” He crossed his arms. “It'll be faster riding a Wolf than riding a mare, especially one carrying two people.”

  Kian gave a cold, reluctant nod. “I suppose,” he said. “If that is what is more feasible.”

  “It's fine,” I cut in quickly, giving Kian a bright smile that was more chipper than I felt. “It'll help us get to the Summer Court faster.” I sighed – the last thing I wanted to do right now was to deal with more tension between Kian and Logan. I couldn't blame either of them, but in a way that made it worse, rather than better. Somehow I felt like everything was my fault, like I had led them both on. But I was true to Kian up until I fell under Wort’s love spell.

  No, I told myself. It's Wort's fault – nothing more. And yet I knew that was not strictly true. Even before the love spell, I had been attracted to Logan – we'd had a brief romance early in my time in Feyland. But I'd ended things, knowing my feelings for Kian were too powerful. Yet as Logan transformed once more into the sleek, grey wolf, and as I mounted his arched back, twisting my fingers in his pelt to stay upright, I felt the familiar memories of us together, rushing back to me. When we were engaged, we had spent a great deal of time like this: after mornings tangled together in bed, enjoying the satin sheets and silken pillows of the Summer palace, we would go for rides through Feyland, just like this. My thighs tightly clinging to his back, my fingers pulling at his hair, feeling the wind whipping through us. I remembered the passion that Logan and I had shared, and my body shivered involuntarily as my nerves tingled at the recollection. Logan’s love for me had always made him passionate as the wolf he was, yet caring and gentle as my sweetest friend. I had noticed that ever since my transformation into a fairy, my body had become more sensitive, more attuned to changes in the world around me. Logan's muscles felt tighter than ever – his fur softer and smoother. My attraction to him, even now, was stronger as my fairy magic sensed our connection and transformed it – making it more powerful, as everything was more powerful to me now.

  At last we stopped to rest as the sun hung heavy and nebulous above us. Night would come soon, and the horse needed to drink. Kian led Daisy a few hundred yards off, to a stream he remembered where the water tasted fresh and clean and the banks grew ripe with green herbs and the scent of tarragon.

  Logan and I were alone together for the first time since our reunion. I could see Logan looking at me warily, trying to find the right tone to strike. I knew that he was wary of getting too close to me – that he was still getting over being hurt in the way he had been. But I knew too that his love for me was still strong; even without my fairy powers I would have been able to see his emotions in his eyes. Logan, so strong, so straightforward, still maintained those animal instincts in human form. His eyes made it clear whenever he wanted something: and from the fixed way he stared at me, I knew his desire was for me.

  “Logan,” I said, taking his hand. Logan closed his eyes at the electricity of our touch. “I just wanted to say I'm sorry. What happened between us – I know it was a spell, but I still can't help feeling like I led you on, like it was my fault, somehow...”

  “It's not your fault.” Logan looked down, unwilling to meet my gaze. “Like you said, Breena. It was Wort's fault. We should be blaming him.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Or at least, you should. That spell didn't affect me – at least, I don't think it did. I loved you before, Breena, and I loved you just as much afterward.”

  “I know,” I admitted. “It would have been easier, you know. If you'd only felt the way you felt because of the spell. But you didn't, did you?”

  “I still remember what we had and, even knowing that you weren't really there – even knowing it was all a spell – all our memories still feel so real, so strong. I'm trying to forget them, Breena, for your sake; really, I am. But somehow I feel like I just...can't.” He sighed. “I'm so sorry, Bree. I just can’t stop loving you just like that. I’ve loved you for so long, Bree. I’ve always thought we’d be together.”

  “No!” I rushed towards Logan, encircling him in my arms. “Don't say that. Logan – I know how you feel.” It was now my turn to sigh. “I know....exactly how you feel.”

  Logan looked up slowly, his dark eyes growing bright with hope. “Breena, what do you mean?”

  I felt my cheeks flush red. “I can't forget either,” I said. “The spell may have been fake, but those memories were real. I can't help remembering them.” I wasn't sure what I wanted. I wanted to come clean – not to lie to Logan anymore. I wanted to make him feel better, to soothe his pain by letting him know I did remember my memories of our time together

  But I hadn't counted on the joy in Logan's eyes, a joy so strong I knew I had admitted too much. “Then don't stop,” he whispered. “Don't stop loving me – don't ever stop.” He cupped my face in his, and before I realized what was happening he was kissing me again, his lips hot on mine. I felt the same rush of memories – my body reacting instinctively to the touch of the man to whom I had once been engaged.

  But I stepped back, even as my heart pounded with the force of this attraction. “Logan, I can't...” I didn't want to betray Kian. I had made my choice, and now I had to live with it – even as I knew it would never be easy. These feelings, these memories, would never go away. But neither would my love for Kian – and I owed it to both Kian and Logan not to hurt them any longer, not to lead them on. I had no spell to fall back on, to blame for my actions. I was only alone with my desires, with my feelings and my thoughts, and with the choice I had to make. “Logan, I love you but...” I took a deep breath. “This isn't right. You know that...”

  But from the dumbstruck look on Logan's face, I knew that he didn't 'know that' – that he didn't feel it deep down. For him, kissing me was the rightest thing in all the world.

  But we were interrupted by a fierce, low growl. It was the black wolf that had attacked us earlier. Despite its injury sustained earlier – we could still see the just-healed wound in its thigh where Logan had bitten him – it looked as savage and as ready for battle as ever. And this time it had come with reinforcements. A whole pack of wolves stood poised to pounce, tense on their haunches, all staring at their leader, waiting for the command to attack.

  “Balthazar,” said Logan softly.

  At these words, the leader of the wolf pack transformed into a man – a transformation so smooth and graceful that it took my breath away. Where there had once been a black wolf there stood now a strapping man, with the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen and jet-black hair that fell into his eyes. His cheekbones were high and taut, his beauty marred only by the scar running across his face. But, despite the perfection of his face, this man unsettled me. His eyes were not warm and kind as Logan's were, or deep and piercing like Kian's. These eyes were cruel and cold –
their beauty serving only to enhance their lack of kindness.

  “Nice to see you too,” said Balthazar, rolling his eyes. “You’d think you and your father would have gotten the message that not all wolves want to be on the side of the Summer Court. We finally are part of the seasonal fairies’ war, where we can increase our powers, claim more land and riches. All this no thanks to your Grandfather. Thank goodness Deacon killed him or we would never be part of the war!”

  Logan winced at the mention of his grandfather. I could see his muscles ripple and tense – Logan was getting ready to fight. But while I had little doubt that Logan was one of the strongest wolves out there, even he wouldn't be able to fend off this entire pack – not without help. I tried to steady myself and concentrate my strength, but as I looked at the panting wolves, with their teeth protruding sharply from their straggly muzzles, I felt that my magic would not serve me too well against these lupine fangs.

  “Who are you?” I asked the black wolf, trying to sound as brave as I could, and far braver than I felt.

  “Ask Logan,” Balthazar scoffed.

  Logan balled up his fist, his shoulders tensed.

  “While Logan may be the Wolf Prince,” said Balthazar, “I too command a legion of werewolves…who no longer believe we should stand aside and let the Pixies claim all the land and riches of Feyland.”

  “Breena,” Logan said, watching Balthazar warily. “Balthazar leads the rogue werewolves, who no longer belong to our wolf clan. He has no scruples…”

  “You know who I am?” I cut in.

  “Of course I do!” Balthazar gave me a wolfish leer. “You're a very desired woman, after all. And you have a massive price on your pretty little head.”

  “And let me guess,” scoffed Logan. “Somebody offered you that price to get her for them.”

  “You know me so well!” Balthazar gave a mock sigh.

  “Balthazar can be bought by anybody!”

  “Not true!” Balthazar smiled. “Not your grandfather.”

  “My grandfather never tried to buy you.”

  “No, exactly,” said Balthazar, grinning even wider. “And that's why we killed him!”

  I heard a low growl emitting from Logan's throat. His lips parted, and I could see that even in his human form, he had begun to develop wolf fangs – a full-on transformation would come any second...

  “Tsk tsk!” said Balthazar. “Don't lose your temper, boy. Or Wolf Prince, the Advisor to the Queen! Please! No real self-respecting werewolf would leave the woods for the frippery of a palace. You may be strong, but you've separated yourself off from the rest of us. And this here is my clan. My clan, my rules. And unless you want your pretty little princess to be dinner for the twenty of us, I suggest you back off.”

  “You're not going to touch a hair on Breena's head!” cried Logan. His confidence was inspiring, but I wasn't quite sure how accurate he was.

  “And who's going to stop us?” Balthazar laughed. “You?”

  “No!” A loud, clear voice came echoing through the trees. “All of us!”

  Chapter 12

  Balthazar looked up, trying to identify the source of the voice. “What, who's there?” he growled, searching the shadows and bushes for any sign of a face. I recognized the voice, of course. It was a voice I knew too well, and loved too well, not to recognize in a heartbeat. “Kian!” I whispered to myself, my heart full of joy. The three of us would be able to battle these wolves – I felt sure of it.

  “Over here!” Kian's voice called out once more, and Balthazar's head whipped around, distracted. That moment was just enough time for Kian to let loose an arrow, and before the wolves realized the direction the voice was coming from, a single whizzing arrowhead pierced clean through the heart of one of the wolves. He fell to the ground with a thick thud.

  “Attack!” cried Balthazar, but it was too late. A flurry of arrows was raining down on the wolves from a hundred different directions, and the wolves seemed torn whether to attack or go on the defense. They seemed, in the end, to choose a combination of both – the arrows hailed down, the wolves rushed ahead, and at once it seemed that there were hundreds of arrows and hundreds of wolves – a chaotic, screaming crowd of violence that neither pressed on nor moved away, but rather transformed the whole of this idyllic dale into a storm of terror.

  I caught sight of Balthazar, evidently less brave than his bravado would have him appear. He was running away into the bushes, dodging and feinting arrows as he went. I wasn't going to let him get away without a fight. I ran towards him, feeling my fairy powers carrying my feet faster than any mortal run, rushing towards him until at last Balthazar was at my feet. I grabbed hold of his hair and held the knife to his throat. Instantly he transformed into a human once more.

  “Listen to me, Black Wolf,” I said quickly. “Who hired you?” I stuck my dagger deep against his artery. “Who are you working for?”

  Balthazar scoffed. “I'm not going to....”

  I jerked his head back and pushed the dagger in deeper, drawing blood. Balthazar winced and yelped in pain. “Listen to me. I'm not afraid of the big bad wolf. And I'm not afraid of dying. I've already died once this week, and I'm not afraid of dying again. So I'm certainly not afraid of using this dagger.”

  Balthazar remained defiantly silent.

  “Was it Wort? Delano?” I yanked his hair. “The Pixies?”

  “No, not the Pixies...” Balthazar forced out the words in strangled tones.

  “Then who was it?”

  No answer.

  “Listen to me – I'm going to give you five seconds to answer this, and if you don't, I'm driving the dagger straight through your neck.”

  “No...”

  I jammed the dagger into Balthazar's shoulder, and his howl made it clear that he had been beaten.

  “Fine, fine!” He panted. “It was Flynn – the Winter Knight!”

  I stopped short. Flynn? I knew he was no friend of Kian's – he hated me, and wanted nothing more than to gain power in the Winter Court by serving as a high-ranking military general in the world – but I hadn't expected him to be at the root of all this evil.

  I drove my knife straight into Balthazar's other shoulder. “This is for Logan's grandfather,” I said as he yelped. “And it's better than what you deserve. An eye for an eye? I thought you wolves were supposed to be above petty fairy qualities – like mercy or forgiveness? You yourself bragged about the brutality of the wolves, didn't you? Ready to see your theory in action?”

  “No!” Balthazar gave a piteous squeal – like a puppy's plea. I sighed. I couldn't kill anyone in cold blood like this – no matter how clear it was that Balthazar deserved it.

  “You don't deserve a quick death,” I muttered. I focused my magic and in an instant Balthazar was bound tight with fairy ropes, trussed to a nearby tree.

  I rushed back to the glen where the battle had taken place. I gasped as I saw the carnage that had taken place – the bodies of at least fifteen men lay sprawled across the clearing, their throats ripped from their bodies. I knew they were werewolves – knew they meant to kill us – but nevertheless the sight was sickening. I forced myself to stare at the bodies, despite my nausea, fearing that Logan's body would be among those lying there....

  “Breena!” A soft voice made me turn around. Logan was leaning against the tree, exhausted. As I approached him he collapsed into the earth.

  “We have to get you healed!” I rushed over to him.

  “I'll be fine,” he murmured, but I could see how much blood he'd lost. He wasn't immortal like me or Kian – I had to worry about him. “Where's Balthazar? He's dangerous...”

  “I took care of him. He's tied up to a tree – he'll bleed to death, or one of his wolf cronies will turn on him, no doubt.”

  Logan choked out a laugh.

  “Where's Kian?” I looked around, seeing no sign of Kian among the dead or the living.

  Logan gave no response.

  “Kian?” My cries echoed throug
h the woods, but there was no response.

  Logan sighed, coughing out his words. “He was shooting arrows from the trees,” he whispered. “Then he swooped down from the trees with his silver sword and began fighting off the wolves one by one. He was valiant, but there were so many wolves....I think they took him, Breena...I couldn't see what happened; these two wolves jumped on me, I could barely fight them off.”

  My heart sank. If Kian had been taken, we were all in danger. But right now I had to focus on getting Logan well.

  “I'm going to heal you now,” I said.

  “But you're not a Wolf!” Logan protested softly.

  “These combined powers had better be good for something,” I shut him up, summoning all my healing powers into my palms. Let me heal Logan. My friend. My love. Please. I could feel my fingertips beginning to warm and glow: I pressed them to his wounds and instantly they began healing, one wound after another vanishing – the skin growing over like new.

  At last it was done and I rolled off Logan, exhausted. He was looking up at me with palpable awe. “You did it!” Logan smiled. “I've never seen powers like that, Breena! You've finally become a full fairy – stronger than any full fairy! You can heal anyone – Winter, Summer, or Wolf Fey.” He laughed with joy. “My grandfather was right! He always said that fairy magic would save us! Wolves can distrust the Fey – but my grandfather believed only an alliance with them would help us to restore our former power.” He clasped me in his arms. “You say that your magic interacted with Kian's proves that he's your intended?” He gave me a searching look. “But I say that your magic on me proves you're the subject of the prophecy! It's got to be you, Breena!”