Wicked Winter Book. 1

❅ Chapter 11 ❅

I made my way to the bend in the path the same way I had the night before; crouching under bushes and slithering through the shadows. It seemed chillier than it had the previous night, as if winter was pushing autumn out, desperate to take over the region. It was quieter too, as if the wind and trees were anxious to hear what Foster Quinn had to say.

The gravel of the trail crunched under my boots, the dirt frozen due to the upcoming winter as I casually stalked through undergrowth and foliage. The moon was hanging low, its golden aura making everything it touched glow an eerie yellow - almost like Sebastian's eyes.

I hadn't realized it before, but if I strained my eyes hard enough I could faintly spot the enormous shadow of the Bairfell Palace, where the Sages were undoubtedly laying cozy in beds probably twice, if not three times as large as my own back in the tent.

The bend in the trail was empty when I arrived, and I had to suppress a groan. I really didn't want to be out here long, fearing that Sebastian might wake up and notice my bed empty and cold.

I stood there for a few long minutes, waiting and watching. When Foster didn't show, I sighed and plopped next a fern, small flakes of frost coating its leaves. To pass time, I fluttered my fingers, willing the a small, icy glow to form at the tips of my phalanges. More frost built on the fern until the bright green of the plant was completely eaten by white. I smiled at my little piece of art.

"You have better control over your power than the queen realizes."

I jerked my head up, my eyes darting to find the source. Foster stood on the countering side of the trail, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest and a lazy grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. I hadn't even noticed the drop in temperature, or the small flurry of snow that had started to fall overhead. The ground may have been frozen, but it was still too warm for the flakes to stick. My eyes trailed them as they sank through the sky, landing on the gravel below and soon melted into nothing.

My eyes snapped back up. I pulled my sleeves farther down on my arm. "What does the queen want with me? It wasn't the cold that bothered me ... but something else prickled at my skin, something electric that caused the hairs on my arms and the back of my next to stand on end.

Teeth flashed in the darkness. "In time, you will see. But as of right now, I wish to get to know you more."

In movements too fast for my eyes to catch, he was sitting by my side, his piercing eyes roaming over me. "You're not what I expected, you know."

I scowled, bristling. "Yes, you already told me. You were expecting more."

He chuckled, "Would you like me to lie, Neva?"

My breath caught in my throat. I slowly turned to look at him, only to see his eyes were already on me. I stared into those spheres of diamond - their resemblance to fractured, broken ice completely uncanny. They slid over me, calculating, hard, and I squirmed. "How do you know my name?" I whispered.

He winked at me, his hair slightly ruffled as a chuckle rumbled in his chest. Then he vanished, his voice seeming to float to me on the wind. "I know more about you than you realize, Princess. Much, much more."

Princess. The small scaled creature from earlier had called me that as well.

"I bring a message from Foster Quinn," it said, startling me. Its voice was as high as a single bell, yet flowed like a river of honey, and I gaped at it in awe. "You are not to run away, Princess. You must stay with the witches. You are not ready."

I needed to know what he was getting at. "Tell me."

He seemed to giggle as he floated back on his feet, his mouth pulled into a devious grin. "Perhaps I will, perhaps I won't."