AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He folded his arms and frowned. “That would end the changelings, wouldn’t it?”
“Stop acting like a spoiled child.” Eirah narrowed her eyes at him as she picked up a canteen filled with water and a peach from a wicker basket, resting on a desk made of ice that must have been created when she’d been visiting her father and Saren.
Morozko grunted while taking the water and fruit from her. He tipped the canteen to his lips and drank nearly half of the contents. As he bit into the peach, a trail of juice traveled down the side of the fruit, and he swiped his tongue up its length to catch it. It wasn’t the right moment in the slightest, yet a heat pooled in her stomach, and all she could think about was how that impish tongue of his had not only slipped into her mouth but inside her depths.
“Your thoughts are growing loud, little bird.” Morozko smirked, proving his cockiness had returned. He bit into the peach again, his gaze hooded as he studied her.
“Finish eating.” Eirah’s cheeks warmed, and she turned around to slip on her boots before he could catch sight of her pinkened skin. She was relieved he was coming back to himself, even if his words annoyed her.
As Eirah secured her cloak around her body, a thought trickled into her mind—she wasn’t to be a sacrifice any longer. Where would that leave her and Morozko once she fulfilled her duty to Frosteria? When she’d thought her destiny was death, she’d wanted to feel pleasure, give pleasure, in a way she never had, and she’d chosen that with the king. But her impending death wasn’t the only reason… So many feelings toward him resided inside of her that she couldn’t untwine just yet—the knots were still too tight. However, she couldn’t spend time mulling it over now—she needed to focus on what she now knew to truly be witch magic, what she’d been taught by Morozko. Together, they would somehow create a new demon race that could help save so many future lives that would be otherwise destroyed.
“Follow me to the back of the ice house,” Morozko said, finishing the water before pushing the heavy fabric away from the entrance to venture outside.
The night still blanketed Frosteria, the stars flickering above, but Adair was nowhere in sight. Smoke continued to curl from the ice houses farther away, keeping the people of her village warm.
They came to a halt before layers of snow, ready for Morozko to bend to his will. “Let me see your hand.” He drew a small ice blade from his hip, a smirk shaping his lips. “I suppose it’s only fair that I taste your blood since you tasted mine.”
Eirah scowled at him, remembering how she’d been tricked into drinking the wine with his hidden blood. She held her hand out to him, and he pricked the tip of her finger. A slight sting burned, but the pain no longer hummed when he flicked his tongue across it.
“Mmm, you taste of mint,” he groaned.
Eirah’s heart thrummed, singing in her chest. Somehow the king could even make tasting blood alluring. He then pressed the tip of his blade into his digit, and she avoided looking into his hungry gaze as she licked away the scarlet. It was heavenly, the spice, the frost, but she wouldn’t dare ask for more, even though part of her craved it.
Morozko took the dagger and sliced a clean line across his palm, blood blooming to the surface.
A bright crimson droplet fell to the snow, and Morozko chanted words. It took her a moment to catch on, then she spoke the strange language alongside him. But nothing rose from the earth, no stir of unique, colorful magic.
“It isn’t working.” Morozko tightened his fist, squeezing more drops onto the snow, reddening the white. Still, nothing roused.
“Perhaps you need to use your magic to create the demon from snow first.”
Morozko’s lips formed a thin line, yet he held out his hand, letting glittery blue and white magic escape his fingertips. The snow and ice drifted into the air, collecting piece by piece, pressing into one another while shaping into a tall form with long, curling horns. Yet the demon’s flesh remained snow and ice—no breath escaping its mouth.
“Try it with me,” Morozko ground out, his voice strained.
Eirah was still discovering her magic—the possibilities—it wasn’t only one ability, as most immortals held, but a combination of many. Gripping her mother’s locket for support, she steadied herself, letting the caress of power unfurl within her, then allowed it to flow toward the figure. The glittery blue smoke wrapped around the snow form, and she smiled as it moved. She watched it lift a leg to balance on one foot, twirling and spinning in a slow and delicate manner just as the objects inside her music boxes would do. No song filled the air, only Morozko’s sigh.
“Stop.” He held a hand up, and the form ceased moving, crashing back into the snow to become a part of it. “This isn’t working. My visions are never exact. They aren’t step-by-step instructions on how everything plays out, but I know the krampi shouldn’t be brought to life like this. It should’ve only taken our blood with the chanting.” A struggle seemed to brew within him as he gritted his teeth.
Eirah wasn’t certain what to do, but he needed comfort. So she did the one thing she could do and cupped his cheek, attempting to soothe him. “Ease your thinking. Go into the memory gently. Tell me precisely what happened, and I’ll help you piece it together.”
Morozko furrowed his brow, concentrating. “We were outside during the night in the forest near the palace. After we drank each other’s blood, I spilled mine into the snow. The full moon changed to blue, then the—”
“That’s it,” Eirah gasped. “The moon isn’t yet full.”
Morozko glanced up at the half-moon, his teeth clenching harder. “That will be two weeks from now!”
Waiting wasn’t ideal, and she didn’t like the idea of what might happen between now and then, but they couldn’t force the moon to become full, no matter how much magic they fed it. “We will have to wait and continue to keep a close eye on the village.”
“Until then, we train more with your magic.”
* * *
Day after day,Eirah trained alongside Morozko with her magic. Creating things. Elk that could race in the snow, birds that could fly in the air, beasts with sharp teeth that could fight. He didn’t go easy on her, just as he hadn’t when he’d had her shift into her owl form over and over again. Her spare time she spent with her father and Saren. Saren continued to stay quiet, keeping to herself while her father carved toys for the village children to try and help cheer them. Eirah offered to deliver the toys, seeing if she could seek out anything different about them. But the children all seemed the same to her, their eyes lighting up when she handed them a toy, not a flicker of yellow irises, no vicious snapping or anything wicked coming from them.
After her last delivery and praying to her mother to keep watch over the village, Eirah trudged through the snow to her ice house. She found Morozko pacing back and forth. The ground had worn thin from his boots, and she wondered how long he’d been doing it.
“You need to relax,” Eirah said, lifting an apple to her lips. “And eat.” She tossed one to him, and he didn’t even try to catch it. “I shouldn’t have to keep coddling you to take care of yourself.”
