Frost: A fae romance (Frost and Nectar Book 1)

I strode into a great hall, one of carved oak walls and an enormous table shaped like an angular U. My gaze moved to a gruesome tapestry, a demonic creature decapitated in the forest.

The camera crew stood in the center, the lights and camera aimed at King Torin. He stood when I entered, giving me a slight nod, his pale eyes lingering on me.

Dimly, I heard the TV host introduce me, and to my absolute horror, he reminded viewers of my messy, drunken outburst.

I slid down into the free chair, wishing I could disappear.

“And surely none of us expected to see Ava here. After all, she declared herself a fae who plays by human rules and the trials themselves embarrassing. If anyone knows what’s embarrassing, it’s Ava Jones. Her slurred outburst went viral, earning her scorn and mockery from all corners of the world.”

I dropped my head into my hands, wishing I could disappear.

“In her exact words,” the host went on, “King Torin’s life is the nadir of human civilization. Don’t ask me what that means, but I don’t think she meant it as a compliment. Particularly when she called him a pretty and rich—” The host turned to Torin with a grin, then looked back at the camera. “Well, I’d love to finish her thought, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be allowed on daytime television. The real question is, will Ava drink all that whiskey and treat us to another sloppy—”

“That’s quite enough, thank you.” Torin’s commanding voice from my right surprised me.

I glanced at him. Irritation was etched on his features, and his pale eyes were locked on the host.

“It seems our royal bachelor is eager to try his drink,” the host said with a smirk. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of a king.”

He stepped out of view of the cameras, his smile instantly fading.

I felt frozen for a moment, my mind still whirling with the image the host had painted. Of course, for that one snapshot in time, it was a completely accurate image, broadcast out to the entire world.

But one night wasn’t all of me.

I could not for one moment let myself linger on what Andrew might have thought about that introduction right now, or it would throw me completely off.

I dragged myself from these spinning thoughts to find Torin looking at me with something like concern, his eyebrows raised. “I’m excited to see what you have in store for me, Ava,” he said quietly.

I took a deep breath. Pulling my gaze to the cocktail ingredients laid out for me, I went into bartender mode.

Before me stood a large bottle of rye whiskey, a smaller container of vermouth, a bottle of Angostura bitters, an insulated container of what I hoped was ice cubes, a stainless steel shaker, a Hawthorne strainer, a jigger measuring cup, a paring knife, a bowl containing lemons, a coupe glass, and to my relief, as directed, a small container of Maraschino cocktail cherries.

“Have you ever had a Manhattan?” I cleared my throat. “Your Majesty?”

“No.” Torin’s eyebrows rose. “Named after the human city, I assume?”

I smiled back at him. “That’s where it was first developed, long ago. In the old Victorian days. And I know you like whiskey because it’s what you ordered in the Golden Shamrock.”

“I didn’t realize you were paying attention.”

“Oh, you had my complete attention.” I smiled at him, actually starting to forget about the horror of that introduction. “I was very curious to see what you were going to order.”

“Scotch is a favorite.”

I nodded, and it occurred to me that he smelled faintly like a peaty Scotch. “This is rye, but I think you’ll like it. And I’m the perfect marginally employed, responsibility-free bartender to make you your first one.”

He actually flashed me a genuine smile.

I cracked open the bottle of rye and poured two jiggers of whiskey into the shaker. “This is what the humans call a cocktail shaker. One of their greatest inventions.”

“We do have cocktails here, of a sort. But we make them with magic.”

“We don’t have magic in the human world, and that’s where all the tools come in.” I poured a jigger of vermouth into the shaker. “This is wine that’s been fortified.”

Torin watched quietly as I added two dashes of the Angostura bitters, then picked out five ice cubes.

“Stirring is traditional,” I said. “But like the great James Bond, I prefer mine shaken.”

“Interesting,” said King Torin, watching me carefully. It was clear to me he’d never seen anyone mix a proper cocktail.

I put the clear glass top on the shaker and began to shake it. The noise seemed awkwardly loud, ice cubes slamming against the metal, but at least I felt comfortable once more. Shalini truly was clever, setting me up with something she knew I didn’t have to think twice about.

After shaking up the cocktail, I popped off the top and poured it into the coup glass using the Hawthorne strainer.

“You’re not going to mix yourself a cocktail?” he asked.

I shook my head. “The entire world already thinks I’m an alcoholic. A cocktail at ten a.m. won’t improve that situation.”

Torin laughed. “Considering all the wine I’ve been given this morning, they should be judging me.”

Who was he kidding? A rich and gorgeous man could get away with far more in the public perception than I could.

He reached for the glass, but I pushed his hand away. Strangely, as our fingers touched, a little electric thrill raced down my arm.

“I need to garnish it.” I plucked out one of the cocktail cherries, and then, using the knife on the platter, sliced a thin ribbon of peel off a lemon. I gave it a twist over the glass, then dropped it in.

“Are they important?” asked Torin.

“It improves the aroma.”

“Fascinating.” He lifted it to his nose and inhaled, keeping his eyes on me. “I do appreciate a good aroma.”

The velvety tone of his voice made desire heat my skin, and I found myself blushing.

He closed his eyes and took a sip, letting the drink roll over his tongue for a moment, truly tasting it. At last, his startlingly pale eyes opened again. “Delicious, Ava.” He inhaled a sharp breath. “Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what happened in the Golden Shamrock?”

I stared at him in dawning horror. If he’d really wanted to ask about it, why would he bring it up now, in front of the cameras? Didn’t he know I wanted to move on?

I glanced at the camera and swallowed.

“I’d like to hear your side of the story,” he said. “Because you’ve been here for over a week, and I’ve seen a very different side of you than the person I met on the first night.”

Ah. I held his gaze again, and it occurred to me that he was trying to give me a chance to redeem myself before the world. As much as I just wanted them all to forget about that video, there was no way they would.

I took a deep breath and reached for his cocktail. “I’m going to need a sip of this after all if I’m going to get into that.” I closed my eyes as I drank from it, savoring the faint burn in my throat.

When I opened my eyes, I found Torin watching me with curiosity.

Where to begin?

“The night I met you, Torin, was my birthday. Or at least it was the day my mother, Chloe, decided was my birthday when she adopted me. We never really knew the date because someone found me outside a human hospital when I was maybe six months old. And I think because my mom was always so determined to make me feel normal, like I belonged, she used to go very over-the-top with birthday parties. Enormous cakes, magicians, twenty-five kids…I think she thought it would help me make friends. Even in high school, the birthdays were extravagant, with trips to the Caribbean or Paris. She didn’t need to do all that, of course, but we made some great memories.”

I stared at the Manhattan, realizing I’d started this story much further back than I’d intended, and now my heart hurt. “Anyway. When I was in college, my mom died. It just came out of nowhere, and…” I took another sip of the Manhattan. “But I had a boyfriend by then, and he took over making my birthdays special so I wouldn’t feel too sad about my mom being gone. He’d make me dinner and cakes. As the years went on, the birthdays weren’t as big a deal, but that’s what happens when you get older. So I’d just pick up some takeout, and we’d watch a movie. Fine by me. What really mattered was that we were going to form our own family. My mom wasn’t around anymore, but we’d make a new family with little kids I could spoil on their birthdays.”

The hall seemed strangely silent, and I couldn’t quite believe I was saying all this in front of the cameras. Except I didn’t feel like I was telling the world. I felt like I was telling Torin, and with the way he was listening so intently, he was somehow the perfect audience.

“He said we were soulmates, and we had all kinds of plans,” I added. “I was working in a bar to put him through business school. I was paying his mortgage. Then he was going to help me invest in my bar. And I’d name it after my mom. ‘Chloe’s.’” I smiled. “That was my plan.”

A line formed between Torin’s eyebrows. “And what happened on your birthday? The night we met?”

I picked up his Manhattan again and drained half of it, no longer caring what the rest of the world thought. “On my birthday, Torin, I came home to find my boyfriend naked in bed with a blonde he’d met on vacation two years ago. Apparently, they’re soulmates now, and everything I’d planned for was gone. The family, the kids with the elaborate birthdays, the backyard barbecues, and the bar named after my mom. So I went to the Golden Shamrock and got drunk enough to forget about everything. At least, I tried.”

King Torin stared at me, a muscle working in his jaw. “But you paid for this scoundrel’s mortgage.”

“Oh, I know.” I snorted. “He said I should be happy for him because he’d found true love.”

“He broke a contract.” There was a quiet fury in his voice that put me a little on edge.

“I mean, we didn’t have an official contract.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But you had his word that he would invest in your bar. And he lied to you for two years. What sort of miserable cad does that? Give me his name, and I will have this dealt with.”

My eyes widened with rising panic. “No, thanks. Look, silver lining, right? I’m here now, in Faerie after all. It worked out for the best.”

He paused for a moment, like he was considering his words. “Do you like it here?”

My own answer surprised me. “I do, really. When I first got here, I had a sense that I didn’t belong. Like the castle walls themselves objected to my presence. But I’m starting to enjoy being around other fae.”

It took another moment, but at last, a smile curled his lips. “We are wild creatures, and that is precisely why you belong here,” he murmured. He reached out to touch my wrist, but when he did, it felt as if pure ice had been injected straight into my arm.

“Ouch,” I gasped, yanking my arm away.

King Torin’s eyes widened, but I saw that deathly cold flicker within them. A chill spread through the room, and I didn’t quite understand what had just happened.

But before I could say another word, the bell rang, signaling the end of our date.