with Marshmallows
“Please?”
“No.” Jaxon looks at me like I’m from another planet.
I cuddle closer, bat my eyes like a windmill on high. “Pleeeeeeeeease?”
He lifts a brow. “Do you have something in your eye, or should I call the nurse because you’re having a seizure?”
“Ugh. You suck.” I cross my arms over my chest and pretend to pout. But after three days of being cooped up in my bedroom, recuperating, I’m not sure how much of it is actually pretending. And even though I know I won’t be here forever, it’s still awful. “Please, Jaxon? If I have to stare at these walls any longer, I’m going to freak out.”
Jaxon sighs, but I can tell he’s deliberating, so I push my luck. “Can’t we go somewhere? Just for a little while? You can even carry me if I get too tired.” I try the whole eye batting thing again, less panicked bird this time and more femme fatale. Or, at least, that’s what I’m going for.
“Yeah, like I’m going to fall for that,” he says with a snort.
Which, okay. He has a point. I’m not real keen on him carrying me anywhere, especially now that things have calmed down around here. But still, the boredom is real… and getting more real every moment. “Come on, Jaxon. I
know you’re just following directions because Marise said I’m supposed to rest for a couple more days, but I’m not planning on joining the Iditarod. I just want to walk around for a few minutes. No big deal.”
He studies my face for a minute and must figure out what I’ve already decided—that I’m going out with or without him
—because he nods reluctantly. Then stands up from where we’ve been stretched out on my bed for the last two hours.
“Civil twilight has set in, so I’ll take you outside for a little while,” he says eventually. “But not far from the castle. And you have to promise to tell me as soon as you start to get tired.”
“I will. I swear!” Excitement races through me, and I spring up after him, then kind of wish I hadn’t, considering my everything hurts, especially my recently dislocated shoulder. Now that they’ve set it, it’s a lot better than it was, but it still aches a lot. Not that I’m about to tell Jaxon that—partly because he might change his mind and partly because I know he blames himself for everything that happened with Lia.
Which is ridiculous, but Jaxon is totally the guy who balances the whole world on his shoulders and who takes the responsibility of that seriously, even if he never asked for it. So no way am I going to let him see how sore and battered I still feel. Not when that means giving him something else to beat himself up over.
“So what do you want to do?” I ask in an effort to distract him from the fact that I’m limping more than a little.
He’s watching me with narrowed eyes and an expression that says I’m not fooling him. But he doesn’t say anything
else, except, “I’ve got a couple of ideas. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll run and find a few things? I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
“We can meet downstairs—” I start but break off when he looks at me with both brows lifted. “Oooor we can meet here,” I finish.
“Yeah, let’s do that.” He leans down and drops a kiss on my lips.
It’s meant to be quick, but I can’t help wrapping my good arm around his neck and pressing myself against him as I deepen the kiss.
Jaxon goes still, but there’s a hitch in his breathing that tells me I’ve got him. Seconds later, he slides his hands down to my hips to pull me even closer. And then he scrapes a fang across my lower lip in a move he knows makes every muscle in my body go weak.
My breath catches in my throat as I open for him. As I press even closer. As I give myself up to Jaxon and the explosion of heat and joy and light that he sets off inside me with just a kiss. Just a touch. Just a look.
I don’t know how long we kiss for.
Long enough for my breathing to grow ragged.
Long enough for my knees to tremble with each stroke of his fingers against my hip.
More than long enough for me to reconsider our walk outside now that things inside have gotten so much more interesting.
But eventually Jaxon pulls away with a groan. He drops his forehead against mine, and we just breathe for a while. But then he pulls away, and in a voice gone deep and growly
and oh so sexy, he says, “Get dressed. I’ll be back in a few.”
And then, like always, he’s gone between one blink and the next.
It takes me a little longer to recover. A full minute or so passes before my heart rate steadies and my weak knees feel strong enough to support me. Eventually, I get my act together and start getting dressed in the layers upon layers necessary to survive an hour outside in Alaska. My lips tingle the whole time.
Turns out, it’s a good thing I hurried, because Jaxon is back, knocking on my door and letting himself in before I even have my socks on. To be fair, getting dressed takes a lot longer with a dislocated shoulder, but still. Even if I was completely healed, it’d still be impossible for me to compete with Jaxon’s speed.
He’s carrying a backpack, which he drops by the door when he sees me struggling to pull on my socks.
“Here, give them to me,” he says, kneeling down in front of me and gently resting my ankle on his thigh.
And just like that, my breath catches in my throat again. Because if I’ve learned nothing else in the time I’ve been here, it’s that Jaxon Vega kneels for no one. Yet here he is, kneeling in front of me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“What?” he asks as he slides the socks over my feet and past my ankles.
I just shake my head because what else is there for me to say? Especially when his fingertips linger on my calf, tracing patterns into my suddenly oversensitive skin.
I must look as flustered as I feel, because he just kind of
grins at me as he slides a second sock over the first before doing the same to my other foot.
I shake my head, look away before I end up melting into an actual puddle.
A couple of minutes later, after putting my boots on for me, too, Jaxon stands up and holds a hand out to pull me up.
“Have you decided where we’re going?” I ask as we head for the door.
He picks up the backpack—something I’ve never seen him carry if he’s not going to class—and says, “Yeah.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but this is Jaxon. He almost never shares more than he has to. Then again, as he gives me a wicked grin, I find myself not minding too much. If Jaxon wants to surprise me, who am I to say no? Especially when his surprises are usually so, so good.
We walk hand in hand through the halls and down the three flights of stairs to the front door. Almost everyone else is in the last class of the day—Jaxon should be, too, but he’s ditching—so the common areas are nearly deserted. Which works for me. I’m still not ready to face most of them after everything that has happened.
“Are you okay?” Jaxon asks as we head out into the cold— and down even more steps. Which is great. I mean, it’s not like every muscle in my body aches or anything…
Still, I nod, both because I don’t want him to know that I’m hurting and because the biting cold kind of takes me by surprise. Which sounds ridiculous—this is Alaska; I know exactly how cold it is outside. But it’s still a shock to my system every single time.
I must not be hiding it as well as I’d hoped, because Jaxon takes one look at my face and says, “We could go back in.”
“No. I want to do something with you. Just the two of us.”
His eyes widen at my words, and the guarded look in his eyes drops away. For a second, just a second, I get to see the real Jaxon—a little awkward, a little vulnerable, a lot in love with me—and it takes my breath away all over again. Because I feel all of that and so much more around him.
“Then let’s go.”
We set out in the opposite direction that I went on my walk around the grounds that first day. Instead of going by the classroom cottages, we head across the pristine snow to the forest that takes up a lot of the school grounds.
We walk slowly, partly because the cold isn’t that bad once I start moving and partly because walking in snow really isn’t easy, especially when you were beaten half to death less than a week before. Eventually, though, we get to a little clearing in the forest. It’s not very big—maybe the size of my and Macy’s dorm room—but there are a couple of benches to the side.
Jaxon drops his backpack on one and pulls out a tall black thermos. He takes off the cup at the top, then opens it and pours something into the cup. Then he hands it to me with a grin.
“Hot chocolate?” I exclaim, delighted.
“Yeah, well, I figure you might want to lay off tea for a while.”
I laugh. “You make a good point.” I start to take a sip, but Jaxon stops me. Then he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small bag of marshmallows.
“I don’t know much about drinking hot cocoa, but I do know that it usually needs marshmallows.” He pulls out a few of the small, homemade-looking squares and scatters them in my cup.
And I swear my heart nearly bursts, right here in the middle of a bunch of trees, as darkness slowly descends around us. Because even after everything we’ve been through, I’m still blown away by how Jaxon always thinks about me. About what I might like or what makes me feel good or what would make me happy. And he’s always, always right.
I take a big sip of the cocoa and am not surprised at all that it’s the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. “So who did you talk into making this for you?” I ask, eyeing him over the rim of my cup.
He gives me a blank look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But there’s a shadow of amusement in the depths of his eyes that belies his words and makes me laugh.
“Well, whoever it is, please tell them it’s really good.” He smirks a little. “I’ll do that.”
I take another sip, then hold the cup out to him. “Want some?”
“Thanks, but it’s not really my thing.” Now he’s full-on grinning.
“Oh, right.” Which makes a million of the questions I’ve been accumulating for days rush back into my head. “How does that work, anyway?”
He lifts a brow. “How does what work?”
“I saw you drink tea, but you don’t drink cocoa. You ate a
strawberry during the party, but I’ve never seen you eat anything else. Except…” I trail off, blushing.
“Except your blood?” he asks archly. “Well, yeah.”
“Vampires drink water just like every other mammal on the planet, and tea is basically hot water. You start adding in milk and chocolate and it’s a different story.”
“Oh. Yeah.” That makes sense. “And the strawberry?” “Yeah, that was totally for show. My stomach hurt for the
rest of the night.” It’s his turn to look embarrassed. “Really? So why’d you do it?”
“Honestly?” He shakes his head, looks away. “I have no idea.”
It’s not the answer I was expecting, but looking at him, it’s obvious that he’s telling the truth. So I let it go. And instead say, “One more question.”
“The blood thing?” He looks both wary and amused.
“Of course the blood thing! And the going outside when it’s light thing. I thought vampires could only be outside when it’s dark.”
He looks uncomfortable for a minute, but then he squares his shoulders and says, “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On what kind of blood they drink. Here at the school, Foster serves animal blood. If we drink only that, we can be outside in the sunlight. If we choose to…supplement with human blood, however, then we have to wait until it’s dark.”
I think about his comment in my room, about how we could go out, since civil twilight had started. “So when I got here, I saw you outside because you were only drinking
animal blood. But now—” I blush, and it’s my turn to shift my face away. Not because I’m necessarily embarrassed by what Jaxon and I do but because it feels so intimate to talk about the fact that he—
“You mean, now that I’ve been drinking your blood on the regular?”
And the blush gets even worse. “Yeah.”
“Yes. I drank from you. And Cole. And then you again in the tunnels. So, no light for me.”
“For how long?” I ask, because it’s been days since the tunnels, and he definitely hasn’t drank from me since—even though I’ve kind of wanted him to. But apparently me nearly dying of blood loss has him less than eager to sink his fangs into my neck any time soon.
“Until the hormonal spike that comes from metabolizing human blood wears off.” When I look mystified, he continues. “It’s like humans and insulin. When you eat high- carb foods, your insulin spikes and takes time to come down. When I drink human blood, my body secretes a hormone that makes it impossible for me to be in the sun. It takes about a week for all traces of that hormone to disappear. Animal blood doesn’t trigger the same hormone.” I count back in my head. “It’s been six days since the tunnels. So by tomorrow, you should be able to go out in the
sun again.”
He shrugs. “Probably the day after to be safe. And that’s if I don’t…”
“If you don’t bite me again.” A sudden surge of heat flares through me.
Now he’s the uncomfortable-looking one. “Something like
that, yeah.”
“Something like that?” I put my cup down on the bench and wrap my good arm around his waist. “ Or that exactly?”
He looks down at me, eyes dark and just a little bit dangerous. “That exactly,” he murmurs. And I know—if I wasn’t covered from head to toe in piles of clothes, he might very well be biting me right now. The idea gives me a thrill I don’t even try to pretend away.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Jaxon warns. “Or I’m going to take you back to your room, and we’re not going to do what I brought you here for.”
Not going to lie. Going back to my room suddenly sounds pretty good. Except… “Why are we here?”
“Why else?” He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a long, skinny carrot and a hat. “To build a snowman.”
“A snowman?” I gasp. “Really?”
“Flint’s not the only one who knows how to play in the snow around here.” His face stays relatively expressionless, but there’s a bite to his words that has me wondering all kinds of things. Including if Jaxon could possibly be jealous… which seems absurd, considering Flint tried to kill me on three separate occasions. Not a lot there to inspire jealousy.
“Well, are you coming?” Jaxon asks as he leans down and starts scooping snow into a giant ball. “Or are you just going to watch?”
“It’s a good view,” I tell him, openly checking out his very fine ass—which is encased in way fewer layers than mine currently is. “But I’ll help.”
He just rolls his eyes at me. But he does wiggle his butt a little—which makes me laugh. A lot.
It’s not long before we’re both cracking up as we stare at what has to be the world’s most lopsided snowman. Which makes sense for me, because I’m a San Diego girl. But Jaxon has lived in Alaska for years. Surely he’s built a snowman before.
I start to ask, but there’s something about the way he’s staring at our snowman that makes me hold my tongue. Even as it makes me wonder if maybe Jaxon hasn’t had much time to play in his life—even when he wasn’t first in line for the throne.
The thought makes me sad as he looks around for stones to use for the snowman’s eyes. He’s been through so much in his life. It amazes me how he could have gone through all of that and still emerge on the other side, this boy who feels so much. Who cares so much. And who is willing to try to play for me.
It humbles me even as it makes me ache for him.
The ache only gets worse as I remember the question that’s been nagging at me on and off since I woke up in that infirmary three days ago. “Jaxon?”
“Yeah?” Something in my voice must tip him off, because his smile fades into concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask…” I take a deep breath and blurt out the question I’ve tried so hard to ignore. “Where did Hudson go? I mean, we saw Lia die. But where did the black smoke go? Did it die with her? Or…” I don’t finish, because the thought is too horrible.
But Jaxon’s never been one to sugarcoat things—or avoid them. His face turns grim as he answers, “I haven’t figured that out yet. But I will. Because there’s no way in hell I’m
risking Hudson being set loose on the world a second time.” There’s such vehemence in his tone that it hurts to hear it,
especially knowing how much Jaxon has already suffered because of his brother. I hate that he’s had to go through so much, hate even more that the threat of Hudson coming back will probably hang over us forever.
After all, it’s hard to relax when a homicidal sociopath has it out for you…and the rest of the world.
Jaxon’s obviously better at dealing with his fear than I am, though—or maybe it’s just that he’s had longer to live with the threat. Whatever it is, he’s able to shoot me a real smile as he finally makes the snowman a face out of stones and the carrot he brought for the nose. “Come on,” he says. “You get to do the pièce de résistance.” He hands me the hat.
It’s the first time I’ve really looked at it, and when I do, it makes me laugh. And laugh. And laugh.
Because maybe I wasn’t being ridiculous earlier after all.
Maybe Jaxon actually is jealous of Flint.
Jaxon just shakes his head at me. “Are you going to put the hat on him or what?” he demands.
“Oh, I’m going to put the hat on.” I step forward and place the hat on the snowman before returning to Jaxon’s side so we can both admire it.
“What do you think?” Jaxon asks after a pause. Although he’s trying to make a joke, there’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice—a surprising need for my approval.
I turn back to our snowman, who’s lopsided and tilting to one side, and despite the chill, I almost melt again. To me, he looks perfect. Absolutely perfect.
I don’t say that, though. I can’t reveal to Jaxon that I see more than he ever imagined. So instead, I offer the only honest response I can. “The vampire hat is a really nice touch.”
His grin widens. “Yeah, I thought so, too.”
He reaches for my hand just as I reach for his, and it feels more than good. It feels right.
For the first time, I let myself consider what Lia said before she died—that I might be Jaxon’s mate. I don’t fully understand what that means, but as he pulls me close and his warmth spreads through me, I can’t help but think that maybe I should find out.
