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And I think about how unlucky everyone around me would be if I had dragons.

I would burn them all at the slightest provocation.

Actually, scratch that.

I’d make them wait until they thought they’d gotten away with it.

Then I’d burn them.

Honestly, I should be allowed to own a dragon.

“Artemis?”

Stevie’s voice drags me back to reality.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly? Flying me across the world with absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“Yeah, I⁠—”

“For sending me to an isolated mountain where I could very well be walking to my death?”

“Okay. No. I would never⁠—”

“There is no one here, Stevie.”

A beat passes.

Then she says, “Technically, that’s a pretty nice problem to have.”

I close my eyes.

“Stevie.”

“You know, it's actually the perfect setup for a winter romance. Have you considered writing one? Or maybe you could take notes and work on a story with Poe. I'd absolutely read a book about a gorgeous, emotionally unavailable figure-skating sensation who gets stranded in a snowy mansion and falls in love with some ridiculously handsome, emotionally constipated man.”

I stare at the mountains and take a deep breath.

“Stevie.”

“Maybe he’s a billionaire. Or a musician. Oh! A grumpy rapper who secretly⁠—”

Nope.

I disconnect.

Immediately.

My phone starts ringing again.

I ignore it.

For the sake of her health, my sanity, and our friendship, Stevie is officially going on a timeout.

I slip my phone into my pocket and turn back toward the estate.

Another chill runs down my back.