Reaping The Red Heir

28. Thawing The Ice Queen

Jolting awake, I groaned, my body trembling as an icy chill wrapped around me like a vice.

I massaged my eyelids, the brightness exacerbating my discomfort.

Wait — Brightness?

I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the flickering light of the bonfire, watching as the flames danced and crackled through the cracks of my fingers. I looked down, noticing a new blanket draped over my body.

I hoisted myself upright, my balance teetering as though I might topple back.

Agony. It clawed at every inch of me, worse than I had ever experienced in my lifetime.

My brow furrowed, my eyes squinting at the warm light as I searched my surroundings, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory.

"Easy there," a voice rumbled, smooth and rich.

In my haze, I saw him, tall, imposing, and unmistakably him, casually leaning against the cavern's wall, just beyond the fire's glow.

"Pierce?" My voice was a hoarse whisper. His eyes met mine—those piercing red orbs that seemed to glow in the dark.

"You truly have a talent for finding trouble," he said with that infuriatingly calm arrogance of his. "Though, I suppose it has always been your nature to court danger."

"Why are you here?" I managed to ask while pulling myself closer to the fire, but even the flames failed to banish the frost that clung to my skin.

"Saving you, it seems," he replied with a wry smile. "Though why I bother is beyond me."

I tried to summon a retort, but my body betrayed me with a violent shiver. I wrapped my arms around my knees then, hoping to trap some warmth.

"Awful day, little Reaper? You look thoroughly wrecked," he murmured. His voice was almost too soft to reach my ears, hinting at something unrecognizable in his tone, perhaps pity.

Of course, he would find me like this, disheveled and frostbitten. I bet he'd savor this moment, his "little" Reaper brought low.

"No thanks to you," I snapped, though my voice came out weak and tremulous.

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching as if holding back a grin. "Your sharp tongue reassures me that you'll make a full recovery."

I managed a glare, though it felt more like a grimace.

He sighed, his hands rummaging through a satchel as I huddled toward the fire, shivering.

I hadn't noticed him approach, but now he crouched before me. With gentle fingers, he pried my frostbitten hands open, his brow arching at the blisters marring my palm.

Unresisting, I watched as he placed a flask of water in my less damaged hand. His touch was light, almost reverent, as he set down another flask next to me. "Broth from Thalia," he murmured, his breath ghosting over my skin as he leaned closer.

My gaze locked with his, my mind grappling with the reality of his presence. Surely, this was a trick of my frost-addled senses.

But it quickly faded away as I began greedily gulping down the icy water. I pushed myself as close as possible to the life-saving heat of the fire, glancing towards the mouth of the cave.

Outside, the night was shrouded in darkness, the howling winds whispering tales of a blizzard that was yet to exhaust. Pierce's eyes roved over me, watching as color returned to my face.

After I had had my fill, I lowered the flask of water to my lap. "How did you find me?"

"Tracking you is becoming an annoying habit," he replied coolly. "Yet a habit I find impossible to quit."