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My hands tremble, and I force myself to meet his gaze. “Is my grandmother okay?”
He dips his chin, and relief washes over me. “She’ll be fine. She broke her hip, but she’s stable. No need for surgery, but she’ll have a long recovery, considering her age. They tell me she probably won’t be back to the palace until spring.”
I let out a long breath. “Okay. Can I talk to her?”
“The cell tower is down. We have no reception, and the short-wave radio doesn’t reach that far south. There’s a satellite phone at the palace, but I doubt the hospital will let you speak to her until visiting hours tomorrow.” The Prince unfolds his long body to stand up. He towers over me, his golden eyes still glued to my face. “Once you’re recovered, you’ll report to me at the palace. The staff will bring some adequate clothing for you to wear.” He takes a step, then pauses beside the sofa. Leaning down, a cruel smirk crosses over his lips. “You’re not in Farcliff anymore, princess. Welcome to Nord.”
I inhale sharply and taste his scent. Woodsy. Strong. Like whiskey and fire. It makes my head spin, and I can’t manage to make my tongue work well enough to answer.
Instead, I just dip my chin and listen to his footsteps as he walks out. The door opens, sending a cold jet of air blasting through the lodge. When I glance over my shoulder, both he and the huge man by the door are gone.
The doctor gives me a tight smile. “Don’t mind him. He’s just… Well, never mind. He’s a complicated man and October is always difficult. Not used to being this far north when the weather is this bad.”
I sip my tea in silence for a while as the doctor takes my vitals. Glancing at the older man, I tilt my head. “Do you like it here?”
The doctor nods, shifting his gaze to my IV bag. “There’s a certain kind of magic in the isolation up here. I don’t mind it. Your grandmother likes it.”
My throat feels tight as the reality of my situation closes in on me. “Will she be okay?”
“She’s strong. She’ll be fine,” Doctor Williams replies, shifting his kind eyes to mine. “She was lucky to get out when she did, so we should all be grateful for small mercies. This is going to be a big storm. We’ll be shut in for at least a week. Maybe longer.”
“A week?” My eyes widen.
“It’s safer that way. Even here, at the security lodge, we can get cut off from the main castle in whiteout conditions.” He glances out the window. “As soon as you’re strong enough to move, we’ll have to head back. Soon would be preferable. Your IV fluids should be done in ten minutes, then we’ll head back.”
I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this job. Grandma warned me about the cold. She warned me that people get cabin fever if they don’t adapt to the loneliness and isolation. Told me to plan for a short visit, so the harshness of the arctic wouldn’t have time to get to me.
But nothing could have prepared me for this.
Wrapping the blankets around my body, and ignoring the doctor’s protests, I wheel my IV pole to the window and glance out. Even through thick, double-glazed panes, the cold bites through the glass. I watch wind whip little tornadoes of snow and frost over the desolate landscape, as if every ice crystal is dancing in some complicated choreography.
The palace sits between two huge mountain ridges, their tops obscured by the clouds. This looks like another planet. I took a train to Nord and landed on Mars.
I think of Gerry, and the way he’d throw a blanket over my legs when I spent hours reading on the sofa. Was that really so bad? Did I really feel stifled, or was I just a spoiled little girl who thought she wanted to have it all?
The black castle looms in the distance, its windows yawning yellow with light. I shiver, but not from the cold. The windows are the same color as the Prince’s eyes. Pale amber, like his namesake.
Wolfe.
I wonder if he’s a predator, too. If he sees me as prey. If my time at the castle will be one long hunt, and this was all just a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then I remember the way his eyes drifted to my lips. How his gaze sent warmth spiraling through my core when he let me know he’d undressed me. How for the first time in a long time, I feel alive.
Maybe it’s the after-effects of a near-death experience. It’s what happens when someone is severely hypothermic and comes back to life. You start imagining things that aren’t there. You imagine heat that doesn’t exist. You get confused and your mind plays tricks on you.
That’s what’s happening. My body is responding to delusions.
I turn away from the window, slumping back down on the sofa. The doctor places a bundle of warm clothes on the seat next to me. “Put those on. As soon as you’re strong enough, we’ll move you to the castle. The staff has prepared your room.”
I stare at the clothes, then shift my gaze to the window. Excitement pierces my gut, and I know it’s not from the near-death experience.
This is real. The Prince is here.
And I’m stuck at the palace whether I like it or not.
