Betrothed To Jack Frost Box Set

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Betrothed To Jack Frost Box Set Page 16

by Alex Gedgaudas


  “When did you find out we were…er…betrothed?”

  That one word alone seemed to annoy him greatly. “My own twenty-first birthday,” said Jack, cracking his neck. He looked away as he began whirling his hand in a counterclockwise motion. The snow falling from the ceiling began swirling through the air. It took a moment for Elle to realize he was manipulating the flakes all on his own. Dazzling displays of white began swirling through the room, looking like a mini blizzard on the inside of the living room. “Queen Oritya had other plans,” Jack said, his disgust not hidden in his voice. “She made me seek out the prophecy. Otherwise, you and I would not have crossed paths in life.”

  Queen Oritya. Elle had to say she didn’t like the Queen of Winter one bit. After all, it was she who sent Zetes’ wives after her in the arena. Elle watched the dazzling display of snow glisten and dance through the air as she thought of something. “If you guys are immortal, why doesn’t Boreas just keep his throne forever?”

  Her question seemed logical. If Oritya truly didn’t want her stepson to have the throne, why not just have her husband keep it for all eternity?

  Jack sighed before he chuckled softly. “I’ll take that question as a sign that no one’s given you the immortality talk yet?” Elle gently shook her head as she continued to watch the swirling snowflakes solely being manipulated by Jack Frost.

  “There are two kinds of immortals. There are the ones who will live for all eternity…” Jack said, roughly clapping his hands. Dozens more snowflakes danced across the ceiling as a large storm cloud moved over his enchanted ceiling. “Then there are the immortals who choose not to live as long as the other immortals. They will age slowly and only be given a couple thousand years to live. Ten at the most. My father decided to take the dose that only permitted him ten thousand years. Today, he’s pushing nine thousand eight hundred and fifty-five years. When he dies, his heir will take the throne,” Jack said, raising an eyebrow before pointing at himself.

  “Oritya is angry partially because she chose to live for all eternity. When her husband dies, she loses status as a queen. If Boreas’s idiotic self would’ve just chosen absolute immortality for all eternity, he wouldn’t have to vacate the throne.”

  “In a way, it’s like he wanted to be human,” Elle quietly mused. She thought she said this too low for him to hear. She kept forgetting Jack was a god. He could hear her breath of a whisper just fine.

  He laughed his strange musical laugh as he shook his frosted head. “Did you miss the part where I said they live for several thousand years? That’s not human.”

  “Your days are numbered if you live several thousand years instead of living forever.” Elle shrugged lightly. “So it is, in a way.”

  “Only a blasted moron would want to live several thousand years instead of for all eternity,” Jack muttered, using a single finger to press against his TV. The entire thing erupted in a long sheet of ice as soon as his fingers touched the material. Elle wasn’t even sure he was talking to her when he said this. He seemed more occupied with showing off his ability to frost over anything he touched.

  Feeling philosophical, Elle paid him no attention as she watched the ceiling snowstorm. “Knowing you’re going to die makes you appreciate the beauty life has to offer just a little bit more,” she murmured, closing her eyes as she felt the snowflakes gently brush against her skin. That was a quote her father often said when he was still alive. The air suddenly in the room turned a tad chilly. Opening her eyes, Elle found Jack was watching her with a blank expression. The weather in the room changed because his attitude did. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  Elle found herself surprised they had been talking this long without a brutal argument or name-calling incident. She shrugged gently. “I guess I feel guilty being around you. As much as I hate this whole arranged marriage bit, it must be ten times harder for you because you’ve had over two hundred years to think about it. I’ve had a little over a week.” Jack said nothing as he stared blankly into space. Wondering if perhaps they were having a moment, Elle dug up some confidence to push the issue she really wanted to touch. “Why did you help me today?”

  Jack’s grey eyes flickered to stare at her for a moment. “Help you?”

  Elle nodded glumly. “You purposely got me mad so I would use fire to hurt my attacker. I was just curious as to why—”

  “Hold your romanticizing thoughts when trying to analyze why,” Jack said coolly. “I loathe Zetes even more than I loathe Calais. Any opportunity there is to best either of them, I won’t pass up that chance,” he said, suddenly appearing before Elle. “You, princess, hold the ability to become an out-of-control fireball. One wrong word by someone and you’ll light up like a firework,” he said with a devilish smirk, using a cool, pale finger to brush against Elle’s cheek.

  She shivered before stepping back. The contact was barely a nanosecond long, and it frightened her. His chilled touch was similar to a jolt of electricity. Whether because he was a god with an unusual coldness to his long fingers or whether it was because Elle felt nervous around him, she couldn’t be sure.

  “To be honest, I figured you would’ve enjoyed seeing my limbs torn off in the arena,” Elle muttered, noting how her cream-colored gown completely obscured her feet from view.

  Jack gave a halfhearted shrug but didn’t disagree with that statement.

  “I wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it,” he admitted with a wink.

  That alone annoyed Elle deeply. “What happened to you?” Her disgust was not hidden.

  His eyes drifted to hers to watch them for a moment. “Elaborate,” he said quietly.

  “Were you always so hateful or was it being around people like Oritya and your brothers that made you like this?”

  Elle had made the mistake of blinking. Within just a mere second of closing her eyes, Jack disappeared altogether. Looking around in wonder, she couldn’t find where he had suddenly gone off to. She suddenly felt his chilled hands gripping her bare shoulders before his voice was right next to her ear. “You seem to be under the impression that monsters are made and not simply born…” Jack said wryly, his cool breath fanning Elle’s ear. Taking a breath to swallow her fear from his too-close of proximity, Elle shook her head gently.

  “I don’t buy for a moment you were always like this. I don’t believe you just wanted me dead from the very moment you heard I was one day going to exist. I think you were turned cold by these people…”

  An amused laugh escaped Jack. His arms were incredibly too chilly as he held Elle’s back against his chest. She felt chilled thanks to her flimsy dress. Jack radiated cold throughout his body. Elle wanted to glance down at her arms to see why they were freezing, but she also didn’t want to blink and have him disappear again. As Jack leaned in closer, Elle shivered as his face hovered only a few inches from hers. “I love the naïve bubble of reality you’ve placed yourself inside,” he mused, a hand releasing her arm before slowly slinking its way up her shoulder. A sole finger soon hovered over her heart. “After the things you’ve seen, the things you know, you actually feel I once possessed humanity.”

  Elle was not sure whether this was a question or not. His tone indicated he was more talking to himself than her. What she was certain of was Jack seemed to want to frighten her with his closeness. One hand held her arm to keep her against his chest while his other hand hovered over her heart. His face remained close to hers, his dark grey eyes watching as she looked everywhere but directly at his eyes. “Yes,” Elle admitted.

  Jack said nothing else to her murmured statement. A diabolical smirk soon crossed his features. “Do you feel I’ll hurt you?”

  Elle kept her brown eyes trained on the floor as she gently shook her head. This was a lie. She definitely felt he was more than capable of harming her. Her shake of her head caused Jack’s mouth to lean toward her ear. “Are you afraid?” he asked softly, his finger that was hovering over her hear
t gently pressing against it. Again, Elle gently shook her head.

  “I cannot only hear your heart, I can feel the rapid beating for myself, Letter,” he said.

  A smug smile played over Jack’s lips. “You’re lying. Or perhaps your heart acceleration is because you enjoy my being this close to you…” he teased, his cool lips brushing against the sensitive part of Elle’s ear as he spoke.

  She shivered. Elle wasn’t sure what he wanted to gain from this cat and mouse game. She could feel her palms sweating as her heart beat wildly. If Jack wanted to show he was dominant over her, he already was. There wasn’t much he had to prove. Not only did he have a couple hundred years of fighting experience over Elle, he had absolute winter powers over her as well. He was bigger, taller, and stronger. He outmatched her in just about every category with the exception of kindness. Still, Elle couldn’t figure out what he had to gain from this strange form of flirting, and it scared her. “It could be a heart arrhythmia,” she said, her mind momentarily brought back to biology textbooks.

  “I don’t believe that’s it,” Jack said quietly.

  The immortal could obviously sense her tension as he leaned his mouth closer to her neck. A game of chicken was commencing as Jack leaned his cold mouth closer. Elle lost the undeclared game as soon as his cool lips touched the sensitive part of her neck just below her earlobe. She squirmed away out of Jack’s grip as a spasm of fear shot through her.

  “Never touch me again.”

  Jack watched her with a sly smile. “Do you really mean that?”

  Elle didn’t look him in the eye as she nodded. “This shall make for an awkward wedding night, my dear fiancée,” he mused.

  “There’s not going to be a wedding,” Elle gritted through clenched teeth.

  “You are a stupid creature if you still feel you can fight our fate.”

  “And you’re a mean person who isn’t talented at providing personal space,” Elle shot back, her brown eyes remaining on the floor. “Now that we’ve gotten to know each other better, I want to know where the door is to leave, please.”

  “Flustered is a good look on you, Letter,” Jack said, snapping his fingers. Elle stumbled before she found she was back in her original room. “Your cheeks glow a rosy color when you’re embarrassed.”

  Elle glanced around her familiar room in awe. “I find it amazing none of you gods are overweight from how little you enjoy simple walking to and from places.”

  Jack gave his musical chuckle. “When you become immortal, you’ll be no different in abusing your supernatural abilities.”

  This statement surprised Elle. “What? I don’t want to be an immortal!” The thought of being forced to marry Jack and be his queen for literally all eternity felt nauseating.

  “And I don’t wish to be this devilishly handsome with an amazing sense of humor, Evangeline. Life—even immortal life—sucks. You’ll become aware of that when we marry and the immortality kicks in.”

  “N-no!” Elle said, straight panic rising in her. It was bad enough she was engaged to him and supposedly destined to one day have his baby. Being immortal would mean that Jack and all of the other horrible people she had met would be in her life for all eternity as well. “I don’t want to be like any of you!” she said, her eyes wide with horror.

  Jack faked offense. “What’s so wrong with being me, Letter?”

  Her list was far too long to properly answer him. Elle shook her head, her eyes leaking tears. “You’re bitter and hateful because you’re surrounded by horrible people,” she whispered.

  The immortals could call themselves gods, goddesses, and even royalty, more powerful than man, but it didn’t take away their cruelty. Nor did it take away that these wicked people had taken away Elle’s free will before she was even born.

  Elle glanced out her window to find it was night. There were only two full moons out instead of the usual three that appeared in the morning. Dazzling stars decorated the pitch black sky. Elle didn’t realize how deeply she was breathing until she took a seat on the couch to cover her mouth with both hands. Immortality was not something she wanted. She couldn’t imagine spending a month with these people. But all eternity?

  Jack said nothing. He watched Elle with that same horribly blank expression of his that occurred when Elle felt he was thinking about something but not revealing his thoughts. “Like it or not, you should connect with the fact that immortality is in your pre-determined future,” Jack said quietly. There was no playful disposition on him and no snide attitude. He seemed to Elle that he was being genuine. He wasn’t trying to be mean or callous; he was simply speaking the horrid truth.

  Tears threatened to spill, but Elle would not give him the satisfaction by crying in front of him.

  “Sorry, Frosty. I’m writing my own story. A loveless marriage and an everlasting life of misery with your family isn’t what I’m planning on having in my future.”

  Her words held more confidence than anything else she had said to him all night. Jack was so quick with disappearing, but Elle swore she saw the faint hint of a ghostly smile quirk at his pale lips.

  “Sweet dreams, little one.” Even though he vanished rather suddenly, Jack’s voice lingered to leave that one goodnight wish.

  Chapter 18

  Elle knew something was wrong the moment she woke up in the woods. The very last thing she could remember was falling asleep underneath her large shimmery white comforter. Elle strangely felt she was trapped in a dream. She couldn’t wake up as she walked through the dark forest where large oak and birch trees were standing tall. There were no leaves on the trees, giving them an eerie, ominous presence. What made Elle feel this was specifically a dream was the lack of feeling she had. Elle couldn’t feel the cool touch of the wind caressing her skin even though the wind was shaking the tree branches heavy above her. She could hear and she could see, but she could not feel. The dirt beneath her bare feet left no sensation of feeling.

  “No…please…please stop…” a voice nearby cried, sounding in pain. The male voice came from maybe twelve feet away.

  Elle looked around in wonder to find the male’s voice. It sounded oddly familiar. Cold, mocking laughter followed soon after the plea; more familiar voices Elle recognized began to emerge. Zetes and Calais were the ones laughing. Elle soon saw them both far up ahead of her. She could make out the silhouettes of Jack’s brothers in the dark. The area was dimly lit with the full moon out and the stars shining above in the night sky.

  “Please…please stop!” mimicked Zetes, clapping his hands in an obnoxious manner. “My twin, this be the supposed heir of Father’s kingdom! A weakling who cannot even fight us off to save his worthless self.”

  “Not for long…” Calais countered with a dark laugh.

  Elle saw how Zetes roughly appeared before the blink of an eye to someone who was already bleeding on the forest floor. The young man was doused in blood and looked to be sporting a broken hand and maybe a broken ankle. With a sharp kick to the gut by Zetes, the man whimpered in pain as he held his stomach. Zetes’ merciless attack did not stop there. He gave three more strong kicks to the young man’s gut where Elle specifically heard a few rough cracks sounding from his ribs.

  Zetes had more strength being a god than a mortal man ever could. He was able to kick the man on the ground three separate times nearly within a microsecond before Elle could even formulate a word to say in protest.

  “Hey! Stop!” she shrieked, sickened by the young man’s pain. He had blood gushing from his nose as he started violently shaking. Her yell did nothing. No one paid her any attention. Elle ran forward and threw her body weight at Zetes to push him away from the young man. Her efforts did nothing. Elle fell straight through him before toppling onto the hard ground below. She went through him as though he were a ghost.

  Elle glanced at the bleeding and broken young man who looked to be missing a tooth or two. He looked oddly familiar with his vibrant grey eyes and pale complexion. Blood gushed from his mouth
as he looked to be trying to catch a breath. His eyes were blackened from hits, his nose and jaw clearly broken. His neck and face were decorated in dark blue and black patches. Recognition was made as Elle noticed Jack Frost didn’t have white hair in this moment. His head was instead a sandy shade of light brown or dirty blond. Jack didn’t pay Elle any attention as he writhed the forest floor. He looked to be in too much pain to notice much of anything.

  Again, Elle roughly tried pushing Zetes, but nothing happened. She tried to kick him, but her leg swung straight through him. Calais came in next to beat Jack, roughly kicking him twice as he laughed. Elle couldn’t fight him off, either. They were all ghosts, untouchable and unstoppable in their merciless attack.

  Jack didn’t look well. He was losing far too much blood to possibly be okay. His eyes were swelling shut; he vomited a decent amount of blood next. Scared, Elle tried helping Jack move only for her fingers to slip right through his arms. She bent down to move him only for the same thing to happen. “Fight back!” she yelled, not understanding how he could be taking these hits without wanting to defend himself.

  It was obvious his body was far too broken to sit up, let alone fight.

  Jack coughed a hoarse sound, a thick string of blood issuing from his mouth. He dry heaved, looking as though he could no longer vomit. Elle knew what his vomiting blood meant given all her Biology and Physiology classes in high school. Jack had internal bleeding. “Please get up, please!” Elle said, trying to move him, only to fail as her fingers yet again slipped through his jacket. She hated him, but Elle wasn’t malicious. She didn’t enjoy seeing Jack Frost being beaten to a bloody pulp.

  That’s when Elle noticed Jack’s clothing. He wasn’t wearing his strange navy attire. He was instead wearing old fashioned clothing that looked to be in high fashion from the seventeen hundreds. He wore black boots and an odd type of leather pants with a loose white shirt that showcased his massive amount of blood loss. The ruby-red blood looked much more profound against the ragged white of his shirt.

 

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