Betrothed To Jack Frost Box Set

by Alex Gedgaudas

  “Close the door on your way out,” said Elle mildly, not looking up at him again.

  A nagging irritation filled him. Every moment Elle ignored him bothered him, but her dismissal made it worse. Jack plucked the book she was reading out of her delicate hands, tossing it on the far side of the room. “You cannot ignore me now, can you?”

  “Jack,” Elle said quietly, closing her eyes. It sounded as though she felt him a petulant child. “I don’t want to talk you.”

  “HA! Got you talking…” said Jack dumbly, feeling ridiculous once he noticed not an ounce of humor lit up the young woman’s face.

  “Please close the door on your way out,” Elle said, her brown eyes holding no emotion as she looked anywhere but at him.

  Jack gently frowned. “I want to have a conversation.”

  “We can’t have a discussion that doesn’t end in a fight,” she said in retort, closing her eyes. “We don’t have anything left to say, so please leave me alone.”

  Jack had come to find her ability to get flustered around him was incredibly attractive. The mortal’s cheeks flushed with anger, her full lips providing a pretty little pout even though pouting wasn’t typically attractive among women. Jack could not say he really minded when they fought; Elle was pretty when she was angered. “What’s wrong, kitten? Worried I shall win yet another discussion?” Jack questioned lightly, making sure this question came across as more playful than combative.

  Elle said nothing; she simply watched him. No expression sat upon her face as she merely looked at him without speaking. Jack could not see anger, sadness, or even regret. “I don’t want to ‘communicate’ with you because I’m maintaining what dignity I have left,” sniffed Elle, not removing her burning gaze from Jack until he quietly left the room.

  Perhaps he had underestimated just how angry she was.

  Chapter 2

  As midnight approached, Jack found himself beyond aggravated that Elle was holding her ground. No matter what he tried, the girl would not budge from her stony silence. When Jack did get her to engage in conversation, it was just to quietly say she did not wish to speak to him. Jack eventually tried continuously tapping the mortal’s arm to show you couldn’t quite ignore someone constantly touching you, and then Elle stopped her reading. She moved from her spot on the floor and crawled onto the large bed to snuggle herself against a fluffy pillow. The entire move from floor to bed she said nothing. Jack then watched her fall into a heavy sleep, finding himself deeply wishing he was that pillow she was snuggled against.

  By the next afternoon, Jack knew Elle was pushing her limits not eating. The girl kept hydrated with water. She took the two other apples off the kitchen counter, but there was only so long a mortal body could go after only consuming three small Granny Smith apples over the course of forty-eight hours. Still, Elle was stubborn. She refused to participate in any meal with Jack. It eventually led him to realize she wanted to eat; she just did not want to eat with him. Unfortunately, that had just been the deal Jack had been holding over her head: eat with me or don’t eat at all. As he sat on his couch, his immortal hearing listened in on the soft growling her stomach gave, indicating she was indeed in need of a meal. Rolling his eyes in aggravation, Jack realized the only way she was going to come out of confinement was if he left the general area altogether. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Jack couldn’t quite figure out what it was she wanted from him.

  He apologized! He then ignored the row like it never happened! Did women not appreciate that? Why would they want to carry on a fight instead of moving on? Didn’t Elle see he simply wanted them to pretend it never happened? It wasn’t as though his cruelty was not for the best; if they did not pursue a romance, she couldn’t die. It was simple.

  Elle had now seemingly given up on him. Jack mentally debated whether or not this was a good thing. The girl’s hatred for him kept her alive. She wouldn’t have feelings for him, she wouldn’t marry him, she wouldn’t one day grow his spawn in her belly, and ultimately, she wouldn’t die and leave him. The downside to Elle hating him now was probably selfish…Jack missed her. He missed the back and forth flow of their conversation, and he missed that wry little smile that lit up her face.

  The day he took her away from her wretched beast of a mother, Elle had watched him with an adoring gaze that showed Jack just how grateful she was he hadn’t perished by Pele’s hand.

  It provided a swell of pride to fill his chest; such a beautiful girl who was incredibly too good for him watched him as though he was talented enough to run the universe all on his own. What caused Jack to grow angry that day was not that Elle refused to believe the prophecy designed centuries ago reciting her demise; it was her confidently answering to her mother that she felt Jack was worth dying for. What frightened him was there was no trace of a lie behind her lips, no falter of a heartbeat that indicated a lie was being told. Elle at that moment genuinely thought loving Jack was worth the risk of dying.

  She was definitely an idiot for believing such a farce.

  Jack teleported himself into his room, not even bothering to knock. Elle was quietly reading a book on the bed, her long legs wrapped beneath her in a pretzel position. She didn’t startle or even look up as Jack entered the room. In three quick strides, he reached Elle and tossed the book away. She didn’t even acknowledge him before he grabbed the sides of her face with both hands and leaning in to smash his mouth against hers.

  It was short-lived. His lips were attached to her for barely two seconds before Elle shoved him away. There was no force behind her touch; it was merely obvious that she did not want him by her. The girl’s beautiful face held strong repulse. “What are you doing?”

  “Evidently, failing at kissing you,” Jack muttered, feeling strange. Was this awkwardness? He had never felt it before when kissing a woman. Having Elle’s unwavering cold gaze on him unnerved him.

  Jack tried hard to focus on how to broach the topic of feelings. They were quite bizarre emotions; the very last time Jack had bother to possess any had been many centuries before. He realized he had long forgotten how to express genuine care to another soul. “I feel strange around you, almost to the point I feel ill…” Jack shook his head as he tried to rephrase. “I mean…er. I feel…awkward…around you. No, I suppose that is not right. Er…I get this weird feeling when you’re around me. I want you to be safe, while I also want to keep you. Having you close gives me a strange peace where I actually feel…happy?”

  Elle’s perplexed expression softened. It seemed she finally grasped what Jack was trying to tell her. “So, you like me?” she asked, arching a brow.

  “I don’t believe so,” Jack admitted, wincing as the girl now frowned. “I feel, perhaps, that is too simple of a way to describe what I’m feeling for you,” he explained quietly, beginning to pace.

  “And what are you feeling for me?” Elle asked, not unkindly but not calmly.

  “You’re angry,” Jack noted numbly. Even though she did not answer this, Elle’s jaw gently clenched. Knowing he needed to describe his feelings, Jack surged forward. “I do not simply ‘like’ you. Having you so close and yet not having you speak to me is very, very painful for me.”

  “I’m sure it is,” said Elle calmly. She stood, gracefully approaching Jack, anger seeming to saturate her every step. “I’m sure it’s very painful when you like someone and you’re afraid how they’ll take it.” She shrugged. “But I think it’s worse when you tell someone how you feel and the only words they can offer you in return are when they’re mocking your dignity while simultaneously stating how you’re going to die.”

  ’Twas obvious the girl was referencing the night she confessed she was falling in love with him. “That was wrong of me,” Jack offered quietly.

  Elle merely shrugged. It was done in an act to appear confident, but in actuality she looked like she was resisting tears. “Congratulations, now you know how rejection feels. You didn’t want to hear of my feelings, and now I don’t want to hear you
rs,” she said coldly.

  Jack did not know how to broach what he was feeling. “It’s as though I could have a hundred different people try and kill me at once, but just seeing your smile would send me spiraling into euphoria,” he said in a small voice. “I’ve long ago neglected to feel empathy or compassion for others, but you bring out a difference in me, the desire to want to become better than I am.”

  For the briefest of moments, Jack thought he had reached her. Elle’s brown eyes gently widened before looking away.

  Elle’s expression now had the same heartbroken look she’d worn the night they fought. Jack resisted scooping her close to him and nuzzling his head against hers. He wanted her hands through his hair as they got all tangled up in another one of their embraces.

  But when Elle finally spoke, her words caused his stomach to drop. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this with you anymore.” She was misty-eyed as she shook her head, and Jack turned around. Her warm hand gently clasped his forearm in a bid to get him to stay. “I’m just tired, Jack. I’m sorry.”

  “We shall speak in the morning,” said Jack lightly, hoping sleep deprivation was what she was referring to.

  “No, because tomorrow I’ll still think the same way,” said Elle, slowly releasing his arm. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

  Each syllable of those seven words made Jack’s skin crawl. Was this perhaps what mortals were referencing when they felt the cold brought them goosebumps? He shook off the thought as he tried to rationalize what the girl was saying. “You…you wanted to be with me?” said Jack slowly, the very idea of this woman wanting to be with him willingly astounding him.

  “Yes,” nodded Elle, “but not anymore.”

  Hearing how positively certain she was stung him. Had he not said the same just days earlier? Jack ignored the painful yearning inside him. He narrowed his eyes as he turned to stare at Elle. “You do not desire to be with me anymore even after I have decided to overlook your looming fate?”

  Elle scowled. “There it is!” she said in frustration.

  “There is what?” demanded Jack.

  “You’re looking at me as if there’s an expiration date on my forehead!” she snapped in agitation. The young woman’s dark eyes misted again as she shook her head. “I want to be with someone who’s happy.”

  Jack rolled his grey eyes. “Well, then, let’s call the Lord of Lightbulbs. Surely Apollo can provide happiness,” he spat coldly.

  “I want to be with someone who I make happy,” Elle clarified, crossing her arms. “I want to be with someone who looks at me and doesn’t just see a clock ticking down the days until I supposedly die.” She near laughed. “That’s all you see when you look at me. Don’t you get that? To you, I’m just the girl who’s going to die. How tragic is that? Supposedly, we were to have some great love, and all you can see is a dead girl walking,” she finished, watching Jack with yet another pitying expression.

  Elle closed her eyes as a spare tear trailed down her face. “You were right to end things…” She trailed off, looking hurt as Jack turned away. “Please wait,” she pleaded, hurrying in front of him. Jack stopped, not really wanting to look at her. Even as he did, he could see Elle was being nothing but honest. “More than anything,” she started quietly, “I just want you to meet someone who genuinely makes you happy. I hope you find a woman that you love, where you don’t have to hate her while also worrying about her getting killed off. You deserve to be happy, Jack. You deserve true happiness and the chance to be with someone you can love while not constantly resenting them for some stupid prophecy,” she finished quietly.

  Jack secretly hoped for a spike of her heartbeat, indicating she did not mean her words. Feeling that she was feeding him comforting lies would have been easier to deal with than the twisted realization that Elle genuinely wanted him to find happiness. In a way, Jack found her kindness utterly sickening. He had been nothing but back and forth with cruelty toward her for months, and yet she wanted him to find happiness? Jack barely registered how low his temperature dropped. His powers were magnifying in the moment, freezing the windows and the floor beneath him as well. This only occurred when he was in deep despair. Jack left her room soon after this declaration, not sharing another word with the strange mortal girl who felt he deserved nice things. Elle called for him, but Jack ignored her. He wasn’t sure why he walked away.

  He felt strange. Jack was torn between knowing Elle not caring for him kept her safe and feeling stunned by her overwhelming generosity where she wanted him to have a happy life regardless of how terrible he had been. Why should the girl even care if he wound up happy? Shouldn’t she desire him as miserable as he had made her?

  It was the most perplexing thing to contemplate. Jack waited the few hours until Elle fell into a deep sleep to visit her. Entering the room once more, he went over to quietly watch the frail mortal gently sleep under the large comforter. The realization dawned on Jack that his constant tug of war regarding keeping Elle close and yet pushing her way was for nothing. The girl had still developed feelings for him despite everything. Jack was mentally brought back to a question Hermes asked long ago. He inquired what would happen if Jack wound up loving the girl. At the time, Jack had laughed the comment off, finding it completely absurd to ever love anyone, let alone the mismatched little girl he one day planned on killing.

  But as he watched the dark-haired beauty sleep, Jack found he did not quite know what to do with Elle anymore. There was a tremendously ugly monster roaring in his chest, unsatisfied he wasn’t holding her as she slept. It caused Jack to realize something utterly horrible and deeply aggravating.

  He loved her.

  Even if Elle was able to easily move on as though their time together meant nothing, Jack was positively certain he would never meet another woman who made him feel this way.

  Chapter 3

  Elle didn’t want to leave the room when she awoke the following morning. The words she and Jack exchanged the night before were worse than their fight. Jack had been raw with emotion, completely vulnerable. Lying in bed, Elle replayed the conversation, mentally noting how absolutely final their words felt. He then left.

  When she explained herself to Jack, Elle wanted to see his crooked smile while he reassured her that he could easily be the type of man who saw only happiness with her. She wanted him to argue; she wanted him to fight her on it. She only wanted some type of reassurance that she made him happy. That didn’t happen. Jack didn’t disagree with her because he couldn’t. There were no reassurances that she could make him happy. There was no stating that he didn’t look at her like a proverbial dead girl walking.

  Jack proved it last night by not being able to argue her point. The truth, as she thought about it, was simply heartbreaking. She did not make him happy; she made him miserable. Elle was his constant reminder that his life was paved out for him hundreds of years in advance. The more she thought about it, she realized things with Jack possible could have worked if he simply got over the silly notion life was pre-planned.

  Elle showered and then changed into familiar clothes from the duffel bag Hermes had dropped off for her. Even changing into jeans and a comfy blue sweater from back home did not make her feel better. She missed her natural clothes, yes, but nothing could take away the nagging feeling that Elle practically stomped on Jack’s heart.

  The moment he practically poured his feelings out left Elle in a bit of a shock. He went from struggling with his feelings to claiming he desperately wanted to keep her. It made her want to cry seeing how deeply torn the poor man looked.

  Taking a deep breath, Elle tried to will herself out the door to face the day. She could no longer ignore Jack—she was far too hungry to keep herself locked away in the room all day. But what would happen if he wanted to push the issue of their discussion the night before? If he gazed at her any longer with his big grey eyes full of optimism and possible love, Elle was certain she would melt in his arms. The irony of such a thought was no
t lost on her. He felt almost always in need of a blanket from how utterly cold his skin was. After an inner battle of do or don’t, Elle finally opened the door due to severe hunger taking over.

  Exiting the room, she found Jack was across the living room with a notebook and an odd type of writing utensil in his hands. Elle could not tell whether he was drawing or writing. His pale hand roughly scratched across the parchment of the notebook, working furiously as he seemed lost in thought. Elle momentarily watched him, awed by how very fast he could go. Even on her best days, Elle could never manage to be that swift with a writing utensil at school. As she slowly approached, Elle could see he was working on a drawing. A landscape of falling snow in what looked like a glorious meadow. Elle became transfixed by the drawing, wanting to compliment it but also not wanting to be the first person to speak.

  “There’s food in the fridge,” said Jack suddenly, not breaking his concentration from his notepad.

  She shuddered from hearing his hauntingly velvety voice. “Thanks,” said Elle, unsure of what else to say. “Er…would you like anything?”

  Jack did not answer as he continued his attack on the notepad. “I’m quite capable of providing for myself, Letter,” he answered quietly, not returning her gaze.

  Elle stared at her feet, lost for a response. Heading to the fridge, she grabbed a couple water bottles and a bowl of strawberries and then retreated back to her seclusion.

  Chapter 4

  The next three hours passed by horribly slow. When she gave him the silent treatment, Elle found it really didn’t matter if she did not speak to Jack; he went out of his way to try and engage her into conversation.