Daelan's POV
I can feel his gaze burning into my back.
I saw the way he looked at her.
I don't care why they broke up, don't care about their history.
Emmaline is mine.
He'd have to pry her out of my cold, dead hands if he thinks otherwise.
And I don't plan on dying anytime soon.
A snowflake drifts down, landing softly on my nose. I exhale a quiet laugh, tightening my hold around the beautiful woman in my arms.
I'm also really glad her ability is ice-based. If it had been something corrosive—fire, poison—I shudder to think what it would do.
Then again…
Would it really change anything?
Because every time she gets excited, the temperature around us plummets, frost creeping along the edges of reality. My breath fogs, my skin tingles, and my brain—my very thoughts—turn sluggish, as if caught in the heart of a winter storm.
It hurts so good.
And if it were fire instead of ice?
I think I'd let myself burn.
"I want to sit down," Emmaline whines, shifting in my hold.
