Frostbound

Chapter one

Winter Hollow looked like it had been ripped straight from a Christmas card.

Twinkling lights dangled over every storefront, pine wreaths hung on every door, and the streets were lined with cheerful snowmen sporting crooked smiles. It was a holiday enthusiast's dream—or a nightmare, depending on how you felt about forced cheer.

Evangeline Grey firmly belonged to the second camp.

She shifted the last box of her belongings onto the creaky porch of the cottage she'd rented, blowing out a breath that formed a cloud in the icy air. The house was small but cozy, nestled against the forest's edge. To her relief, it was far from the town center, where she wouldn't have to deal with the incessant carolers or the general holiday hysteria. Here, she could avoid the world and its festivities, wrapping herself in solitude.

Or so she thought.

She'd barely stepped back to admire the quiet charm of her new home when something strange caught her eye. There, etched across the length of her porch railing, was an intricate frost pattern. It wasn't like the random, jagged streaks she remembered from childhood mornings on car windows. No, this was deliberate—perfectly symmetrical snowflakes connected by twisting, icy vines. They shimmered faintly in the pale light, as though enchanted.

Eve frowned. "What the...?"

She crouched to inspect the frost more closely, brushing her fingertips along the delicate designs. The cold nipped at her skin, but the frost didn't melt under her touch.

"That's the problem with humans," a voice drawled suddenly, making her startle. "You can't just admire beauty. You've got to poke at it."

Eve jumped to her feet and spun around. A figure was lounging against the nearest tree, arms crossed, his grin sharp enough to cut ice. He looked out of place against the snow-covered forest—too crisp, too perfect, with his silver hair glinting like moonlight and his coat edged in what looked like frost itself.

"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, stepping back instinctively.

The stranger pushed off the tree and strolled toward her with a lazy confidence that set her teeth on edge. "Jack Frost," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Eve blinked. "Right. Sure you are."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Not the reaction I usually get. Most people at least pretend to be impressed."

"Well, most people probably aren't freezing to death when they meet you," Eve shot back, tightening her coat. "Is this your idea of a joke? Because if it is, you can leave now."

Jack stopped a few feet away, tilting his head as he studied her. "Hmm. I was told you had a sharp tongue, but I wasn't expecting it to be quite this entertaining."

Eve bristled. "You've been told about me? By who?"

"By everyone," he replied, his tone maddeningly casual. "The new woman in town, moving out here all alone to avoid the Christmas spirit? You're practically a legend."

She crossed her arms. "I'm not avoiding anything. I just like my space."

"And yet," Jack said, stepping closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially, "you chose Winter Hollow. The most over-the-top, holly-jolly place on earth. You can see how that might make people talk."

Eve took a step back, glaring at him. "I don't care what people think. Now, are you going to tell me what you're actually doing here, or do I need to call someone?"

Jack laughed, the sound light and carefree, but there was an edge to it. "Call who? Santa?" He held up his hands, palms out. "Relax, I'm not here to hurt you. Just thought I'd welcome you to the neighborhood. You know, make you feel at home."

"By carving up my porch with frost?"

Jack smirked. "You don't like it? I thought it added a certain...je ne sais quoi."

Eve glanced back at the frost pattern, then turned to him, her expression hard. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but I don't need or want your 'welcome.' So why don't you take your snowflake art and go bother someone else?"

"Ouch." Jack pressed a hand to his chest, feigning a wound. "And here I thought we'd get along."

"Why would you think that?"

He shrugged, his grin returning. "Call it a hunch."

Eve stared at him, her irritation mounting. There was something about his presence—his casual arrogance, the way he seemed so at ease in the freezing cold—that set her on edge. "You're not even from around here, are you?"

Jack's grin turned sly. "Oh, I've been around. You could say Winter Hollow is...part of my domain."

"Your domain?" She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I've had enough of this. If you're trying to be funny, you're not."

He leaned in slightly, his breath a visible mist in the cold air. "Funny? No. Fun? Always."

Before she could snap back, the wind picked up around them, swirling snowflakes in intricate, glittering patterns. Jack stepped back, spreading his arms as the snow danced like it was alive. The frost beneath her feet began to shift, forming delicate designs that mirrored the ones on her porch.

Eve stared, her annoyance faltering for a moment. "How are you doing that?"

"Magic," he said simply, winking at her.

"Magic," she repeated flatly, shaking her head. "Right. I've officially wasted enough time with you." She turned to go inside, but Jack appeared in front of her before she'd taken two steps, his grin positively infuriating now.

"Come on, Eve," he said, drawing out her name like it was some private joke. "Don't be like that. We're going to be neighbors. You might as well get used to me."

"I don't want to get used to you," she snapped, pushing past him.

"Good," he called after her, his voice laced with amusement. "I like a challenge."

Eve didn't respond. She slammed the door shut behind her, locking it for good measure. But even as she leaned against it, her heart racing, she couldn't shake the image of his grin—or the way the air had felt charged, alive, whenever he was near.

Outside, the frost on her porch glimmered faintly, as if mocking her.