Betrothed To Jack Frost Box Set

by Alex Gedgaudas

  Elle slowly gathered what she was saying. If an heir was supposed to gain abilities at a certain age, Elle was twenty-one and barely able to start her hands on fire. She never was able to do such a thing as a child.

  Elle and Jack reached the same conclusion but the still tied-up Hermes beat them to saying the words. “Elle isn’t your heir,” he said quietly, the realization now stating what everyone was thinking.

  No one said a word, causing Elle to wonder what exactly that was supposed to mean. All three of the immortals were looking as though this meant something dire, but Elle couldn’t figure out what. “Is there something I’m missing?”

  Pele slowly nodded, her eyes very wide as they transferred from the floor to meet Elle’s gaze. “It means, my sweet demigod daughter, that even though your birth was predicted centuries ago to become betrothed to Jack Frost, you will never be able to take over Fire’s throne, given you are not my heir.”

  Everyone looked rather dire about this revelation, but Elle didn’t see why. She simply shrugged. “That’s fine by me.”

  “Maybe the prophecy was wrong…” Hermes said at once, his eyes wide. “Maybe Elle isn’t the one who’s part of it!”

  “It is exclusively a prophecy dictating that two demigods shall come together,” Pele interrupted, watching Elle with what almost seemed like a truly heartbroken expression. “She is the betrothed of Jack Frost.”

  “Could you stop watching me like that?” said Elle, wincing as Pele stared at her. “You’re giving me the creeps.”

  The dark-haired goddess still wore a worried expression as she suddenly caused a book to appear out of thin air. It was a weathered brown journal that looked quite old. The parchment pages were crusty and worn, showing Pele had kept this a very long time. Flipping to a certain page almost expertly, Pele read a line before her full-red lips slipped into a heavy frown.

  “One will die while the other will survive,” she said gloomily. “There is no stopping the heir meant to thrive. Two on two, the children of Pele shall fight, both will try with all their might. Fire will dance, fury will enhance. Death will come knocking on the door; there is no stopping the mortal falling to the floor. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide; the immortal will be the one left standing with pride,” she finished, her eyes holding great mist to them as she watched Elle.

  Not quite knowing what was going on, Elle shrugged once more. “You’re a poet and you didn’t even know it?” she tried jokingly.

  No one paid any attention to the light humor; everyone watched Elle with a slightly somber expression. Turning her attention to Jack, Elle found he looked stony-faced as he looked anywhere then back at Elle. Pele looked on the verge of crying, while even Hermes looked gloomy enough to have just witnessed someone taking the last food off his plate before he could finish.

  “You are not my first-born child,” said Pele quietly, her brown eyes vacant. “I was hoping you were to be my heir and conquer, but alas, that was not meant to be.”

  Elle let that sink in, trying to figure out why everyone looked so incredibly mopey at the moment minus Jack. She could barely register Pele’s wording that she had a sibling. Looking at Jack, he seemed to have a vacant expression on his face that made him look as though he stopped listening to what was going on. Elle thought back on the strange rhyming from Pele, resisting a snort. “So that was a prophecy?”

  Hermes nodded gloomily at her, still sweating profusely on the floor. Elle started to laugh. Everyone looked at her as if she’d finally lost her marbles. Elle hadn’t; she just thought it was hilarious that people looked so morose solely because of a rhyming prophecy.

  “It’s a bunch of words. You can’t honestly believe that words in a rhyme somehow predicts the future!” She laughed some more.

  “But it does,” said Pele gravely. “You will fall by your sister’s hand. Macaria resides in the underworld, where she has lived for the last seven hundred years,” she whispered, as if this mysterious Macaria could somehow overhear them. “I had her young, when I was barely an adult—”

  “Wait, if I’m not your only kid,” interrupted Elle suddenly, “then why was it me you sold off to be married?”

  “This was not a subject of wanting to give you away as much as needing to,” said Pele quietly. “Being sent to live with Hera and Zeus, you would have been trained by the Olympians and many other talented fighters, who could prepare you for the time you would one day battle your older sister after you married your betrothed.”

  “Hold the phone…” said Elle, rubbing her temples. “So I one day battle some long-lost big sister of mine? I don’t want to fight anyone, so prophecy solved.” Elle shrugged. In her mind, it was that simple. If she didn’t want, let alone care, to fight Macaria, why would they have to?

  Pele’s eyes widened. “Are you not aware of how a prophecy works?”

  “No, and I really don’t care,” Elle answered honestly. “I can only take so many prophecies right now. I’ve got enough problems on my plate. Supposedly, I’m having some magical prophecy baby someday, and a bunch of people want to kill me because Oritya placed a bounty on my head. Now, I have to fight some sister I’ve never met because some rhyming prophecy told you? No, no thank you.”

  Pele cocked an eyebrow as she suddenly glared at Hermes. “Why is my daughter under the impression prophecies are just silly words that mean nothing?”

  “BECAUSE THEY ARE!” Elle nearly howled, startling a hellhound with her raised voice. “They’re words that sound cool when they’re rhymed together. Anyone who actually sits around worrying about what they say is asinine!”

  “This is why Jack Frost should perish!” Pele exclaimed hotly, as if Jack’s death solved everything. “If he’d merely die, you could avoid a death sentence handed down to you centuries ago. Heed my warning, youngest daughter. That man you protect will be the reason for your demise. It all starts the moment you say I do,” Pele warned, her lip curling as she watched Jack.

  “Let Hermes go now,” said Elle, staying in front of Jack protectively.

  Pele looked about to protest but evidently thought better of it. She was outnumbered with Jack Frost nearby. In what seemed to be a motion of purely wanting to appear on Elle’s good side, the goddess waved her hand, unshackling Hermes, along with crossing out his pentagram. The shaggy-haired god spared Elle a small, thankful smile before silently vanishing.

  “Someone’s about to run and tell Zeus on you,” Jack muttered, still holding Elle protectively.

  “At least Hermes has a daddy to tell. We cannot say the same for you, can we, Frost?” said Pele cruelly.

  “Let’s go,” Elle said, grabbing Jack’s free hand. Pele frowned.

  “The moment you leave my father’s kingdom, I cannot guarantee your complete safety!”

  “Well, hey, look at the bright side! If you’re right and some older sister of mine kills me, I’ve got some time left before I’m officially dead,” Elle shot back sarcastically.

  Jack took a deep breath, motioning for Elle that it was time to go.

  “This is not a gaming matter, Evangeline,” Pele pushed, looking crestfallen. “The second you marry Jack Frost, you start to unravel the very prophecy that has haunted me for centuries. War will one day come! It was not my wish to lose my eldest to the Underworld, but I made a vow I would be there for any other child of mine—”

  “Guess what?” Elle laughed, memories of being alone after her dad’s death coming back to her. “I could have used a mom when Dad died, and I could have used a mom when I was kidnapped by winter’s throne. I don’t need you anymore,” said Elle, watching as her last words affected Pele the most.

  Pele appeared before Elle, grabbing her arm as her eyes glazed with fresh tears. “Loving Frost will be your downfall,” she said, her warning clear as she grasped Elle’s arm.

  Elle shrugged out of the woman’s grasp, looking at Jack to find he was absolutely lost in thought. He soon returned her gaze, his grey eyes looking a tad empty as he watched her. Elle
found herself speaking before she really paid attention to her own words to register if they were really right to say. “I think he’s worth the risk,” she said quietly, soon vanishing with Jack.

  Chapter 23

  Elle did not know where Jack had taken her when he left Pele’s palace. She was too focused on her anger toward her long-lost mother to think about much else. The goddess spared Elle not an ounce of kindness, only the twisted theory that if Jack were to be killed, Elle would lead a better life.

  It left Elle repulsed. She did not believe it was Pele’s motherly instinct that caused her to want to kill Jack for her benefit; she felt strongly Jack being killed benefited Pele somehow. How this was, Elle could not figure out. By the time Jack had gotten them to a strange little cabin deep in the middle of the woods, Elle had to follow after him as he immediately dropped her hand.

  “You are a very stupid girl,” said Jack, not turning around to address her as he disappeared.

  Elle had no idea where he went off to until she found Jack was now opening the front door of the cabin.

  “Get in,” he demanded, nodding his frosted head toward the inside of the room. Elle slowly climbed the steps to enter the cabin, finding the place was very secluded. One wouldn’t be able to even make out there was a cabin given how many trees were surrounding it. The house was smack in the middle of nowhere. A warm middle of nowhere. Elle felt a normal temperature for a change that was not saturated by the freezing cold.

  The entire inside of the cabin looked similar to Jack’s forest-themed room back at the palace. Only this cabin had a living room, dining room, and even attached kitchen, all decorated to resemble a forest. It was earthy along with extremely homey. Why Jack needed an indoor forest when he had a large outdoor one already at his fingertips was unknown. Elle took a look around, not understanding where it was they were.

  “So why am I a stupid girl?” asked Elle, narrowing her eyes as the back of Jack’s pearly white head. “Should I have been cheering Team Pele? I’m not sure if you noticed, but she sort of wanted you dead.”

  He turned to stare at her. “You angered the volcano goddess and most likely other members of her family as well. As if you needed yet another enemy to add to your already very long list,” spat Jack in retort. He glared before looking down at himself. His arm was looking horribly injured as he teleported himself to the opposite end of the cabin where a small kitchen was kept.

  “Wow, an angry Jack. How original,” said Elle with a roll of her eyes.

  “Of course I’m angry. I’m almost always having to save you from getting killed off,” snarled Jack as he removed what looked to be a very large tooth from his forearm. He tossed the bloody object into the nearby sink, muttering angry profanities as he did it.

  “From where I was standing today, had it not been for me shaking that stupid snow globe, you would probably be dead right now.” Elle shrugged.

  “Or instead of being horribly distracted thinking you were in harm’s way, I would have been better equipped to handle the monster I was fighting.”

  Elle’s temper flared. “My apologies, then. Next time I’ll go out of my way not to help you. Will that make you happy?”

  A mock clapping came from Jack as he smiled cruelly. “Incredibly.” He nodded approvingly. His negative attitude had Elle scowling.

  “It’s as if you’re angry I didn’t want Pele to succeed.”

  “No, I am angry for a multitude of reasons,” countered Jack as he removed another sharp-looking tooth from his forearm. He barely flinched as he worked. “First and foremost being I spent my entire day dodging monsters and immortal bounty hunters. Next would be a close second of you using that enchanted globe because you were worried what your crazed mother was up to…”

  “Don’t call her my mother,” Elle warned, her eyes narrowing angrily.

  Jack snorted. “I assume ’tis an easy enough concept for you to grasp. When a woman gives birth to a child, that makes her a…”

  “A mother is someone who’s there for you,” Elle interrupted angrily. “They stand by you no matter what. They feed you, clothe you, take care of you mentally and physically. That woman who just about told me I’m going to be killed off by some seven-hundred-year-old half-sister of mine isn’t my mom,” Elle said firmly, crossing her arms. “If you’re going to speak of Pele, I prefer that you refer to her as the crazy she-witch who just happened to give birth to me.”

  “Fair enough.” Jack held off any further commentary, sparing her a stiff nod before going back to searching for something in the cupboard. Perhaps he had respect for her comment, or maybe he was too tired to push the matter. After a moment, he brandished something out of the large white cupboard that looked like a very small bottle of liquid gold. Undoing it, he downed the bottle before tossing it in a nearby garbage can that resembled a tree trunk. Elle came closer to watch as Jack struggled to move his left arm. After heaving a heavy sigh, he calmly walked over to a nearby wall. Elle wondered what he was doing as he backed up. Clenching his jaw, Jack roughly ran at the wall, smacking his left shoulder into it with force. Elle gasped as a horrid crunch was heard. Jack moved away from the wall, now having complete control over usage of his left arm again. “That feels better,” he admitted dryly as he flexed his hand.

  “What attacked you?”

  “A supposed ‘female’ by the name of Ammit.”

  Elle knew from her mythology books that Ammit was an Egyptian goddess. She supposedly held the body of three of the largest “man-eating” animals known to ancient Egyptians: a lion, a crocodile, and a hippopotamus. “What do you mean, a supposed ‘female’?”

  “The creature I fought was so very hideous, it was hard to believe the beast was supposed to be female,” said Jack as he started to remove his clothing.

  Elle diverted her eyes to the ground for modesty reasons as he easily removed his jacket and shirt before ripping open the gauze packet he held with his teeth. Elle tried focusing on the question, trying not to look at the long, jagged cut starting from the bottom of his collar bone and spreading across his pale chest. Given how chalk-white his complexion was, it made the bloody wounds look brighter than they normally would have on a regular person.

  “I thought immortals heal faster than humans do?” Her statement sounded more like a question.

  “Yes. But the last I checked, most immortals do not fight a hybrid Egyptian goddess and her just as hideous offspring,” said Jack in a duh tone. “So you will have to forgive me if I am not healing fast enough for your liking.”

  Elle said nothing as she watched him. Jack flinched in pain over the strange liquid he was splashing over his long cuts. There was something deeply wrong with Jack, and it was troubling Elle to watch. Given he was always pale, she could hardly take his lack of color into consideration. It was the way Jack moved that was frightening her; his moves were odd. The way he took extra effort simply to bend an arm was alarming.

  “That’s not all that is wrong, is it?” As her question spilled past her lips, Jack heaved a deep sigh, seemingly out of pain. Begrudgingly, he shook his head. “Why aren’t you healing?” asked Elle with a frown following.

  “I’m not meant to be in warm climates,” admitted Jack, moving to lean against the nearby counter. “Between the fire coven’s kingdom and this cabin that is purposely placed in South Africa, I cannot heal when my body is not allowed to drop down to a temperature that would bring about hypothermia.”

  Elle’s mouth formed a small o in realization. “That’s why you’re always cold? It’s not by choice, but it’s because when you became immortal, dying in that lake transformed your body’s structure to only accept the cold as normal. Therefore your body can’t handle a warmer climate.” The words her father had occasionally joked to her as a child had been right; Jack Frost did not go where it was warm.

  “Aren’t you clever.” It was meant to be a cruel remark, but he was simply too weak to muster up the nastiness for his comment. “You have it right,” he admitt
ed quietly. “I only go to the places I am told to travel to make it snow. I stay out of the warmth.”

  After a very long silence, Jack spoke again. “I envy you,” he admitted weakly. “Your body can adjust perfectly fine to too hot or too cold. If I stay in the heat for too long, my body will not heal as it usually does.”

  “Will you die?”

  A barking laughter escaped Jack. He shook his head. “No, not quite. I’m simply not at full power. Although I assume if someone were to attack me in this weakened state, I would be quite easy to kill off.”

  “Why don’t you leave so you can return to your regular self?” asked Elle, wincing as he groaned out of some discomfort on his body.

  “Why don’t you make yourself useful and try not to get killed or captured while I tend to these wounds?” countered Jack as he stalked away.

  Elle watched as he went through the first aid kit. He rifled through the objects, for a moment watching the scissors and thread. There was a nasty cut above Jack’s eyebrow that kept lightly dripping blood into his eye. Using a hand to staunch the blood, it became apparent what he was trying to do. It was as though Jack wished to use the objects he found and yet had no idea how to proceed. Silently Elle went over, taking the scissors along with the thread. She removed a needle from a nearby compartment. “Here, let me help. Stitching up that small cut should take only a few minutes.”

  “Are you a healer now?” said Jack, almost sounding too tired to mock.

  “No. I’m just intelligent enough to know it’s very difficult to place stitches above your own eye,” countered Elle. “Now please sit down.”

  Jack moved to settle himself into a nearby chair, narrowing his eyes as he watched Elle. “I highly doubt I should be allowing you to hold a needle and scissors.”