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“Now, this is refreshing. I do enjoy arguing with you, butthis, I could get used to.” With a smirk, he handed her a canteen and a piece of dried meat from the desk.
She guzzled the water down as if she’d never drank a sip of anything in her life. Then she bit into the meat, the savory flavor waking her up a bit more. “Let me see a stone.”
“I gathered changeling blood for you earlier as well.” He dropped two stones in her hand, along with a glass vial filled with blue blood. She wrinkled her nose at the blood as she drew out the chair in front of the ice desk before lowering herself. Taking another bite of the meat, she set one stone on the desk and ran her thumb across the other’s smooth surface. They looked like any normal gray stone, except somehow she was supposed to add magic to one.
First, she opened the vial and allowed the demon’s blood to ooze a drop onto the stone. Then she homed in on her ability, letting it swirl inside her. A glittering white smoke curled out of her fingertips and brushed against the stone as if caressing it. Words naturally spun in her head, coming from somewhere inside her where they’d been hidden. She latched onto them, speaking the chant softly, her eyes shut. When she opened her lids, she gazed at the stone. It was still the color of charcoal. “What’s it supposed to do?”
Morozko cocked his head, eyeing the stone. “Turn blue and light up when you need to locate a changeling.”
She bit her lip, concentrating. “I can’t get the color to change.” But then she remembered something. When the time to save Frosteria was near, their blood would be needed to form the new demons and would change the color of the moon during the spell. But this, this was only her that was needed, and she now knew what else was necessary. “I need to add my blood.”
“Allow me,” Morozko purred, not hesitating to draw out a dagger from his waist.
“You enjoy pricking me too much,” she huffed with a smile.
“No, I enjoytouchingyou, little bird.” He gently grasped her hand, and her heart pounded at his soft caress. She couldn’t help but remember their earlier encounter together. His hands everywhere on her, the way he expertly moved inside her, worshiping her.
Morozko pricked her finger, the slight sting interrupting her blissful thoughts. As the blood blossomed on her flesh, she pressed the crimson to the stone, repeating her chant one more time. And she came to a realization—she was performing a true spell, something no other immortal could do—only a witch.
A slight humming radiated from the stone, and she watched how the gray coloring changed to a light blue.
“You did it!” Morozko shouted, drawing her to her feet and pressing his mouth to hers so easily, seeming to become more comfortable with one another in a different way. As he was about to step away, she boldly tugged him back to her and captured his mouth with hers before releasing him to make another enchanted stone.
“Kiss me like that again and I may make you wait on enchanting another,” Morozko said in a gruff voice.
“Perhaps once we finish helping Frosteria, I’ll have you teach me much more.” She smiled, heat creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.
“Oh, I have plenty to show you and will make you come in many ways,” Morozko cooed. He took one of the stones and enfolded her hand over the other. “But for now, I’ll start searching the cottages with the guards. Wait with your father and Saren until I need you. We need the element of surprise.”
She nodded and left a moment after Morozko, wishing for him to remain safe. So much different than in the previous weeks when she’d wanted to end his life.
Eirah’s father and Saren both rested inside their ice house, eating jerky. “Hungry?” Her father held up a slice toward her.
“No.” A slight humming vibrated in her pocket, but her father and Saren didn’t seem to hear the stone. With a frown, she slipped it out and stared at the flickering stone as it gave off a soft blue light.
“What’s that?” her father asked, adjusting his glasses while casting his gaze upon it.
Eirah’s heart lodged in her throat as she sat watching him. Changelings could slip into children—she knew this. But what if…
“Hold this for a moment,” she whispered, placing the stone in the palm of his hand. As he rolled it in between his fingers, the light vanished, not a single blue flicker.
Eirah took the stone from him, and it illuminated once more. A changeling couldn’t be residing inside her, could it? But then her gaze flicked up to Saren, who was silently watching her. And Eirah knew. She needed to get Morozko.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to get us some fruit,” Eirah said, keeping her voice steady while her heart thundered.
“We have fruit,” Saren called from behind her, but Eirah hurried out of the cottage to locate the king.
When she stepped toward the next house, two hands shoved her from behind, knocking her to the snow.
“Morozko!” Eirah screamed, hoping he wasn’t too far away.
Saren flipped Eirah to her back, holding her down by the shoulders, her fingers digging in sharply. She released a hiss, her blue eyes glowing a bright yellow.
As Eirah drew on her magic, trying to get Saren off her, the demon was yanked away. Eirah’s father shouted at Saren to stop, but then she pushed him away from her. Saren lunged forward, darting in the opposite direction, yet Eirah caught up, tackling her to the snow. She grabbed Saren’s arms and held them behind her while the demon jerked.
“Eirah!” Morozko bellowed, barreling toward her, his gaze wild until it settled on her.
“The changelings aren’t only in the children!” Eirah shouted. Saren wriggled, her stare full of madness as she slipped from Eirah’s fingers. “One is in her. Help me,” she cried, tears pricking her eyes.
