Betrothed to Jack Frost (REWRITTEN)

17)The Deceived First Kiss

Happy Reading!
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As the lion started slinking its way toward Elle, she let out a panicked scream. Instinctively, she wanted to run, but she feared that such an action might provoke the beast further. So, she took slow, cautious steps backward while the mammoth-sized lion crept forward. The lion's gaze was eerily familiar—like those documentary moments when predators stalked their prey. This time, Elle was the vulnerable gazelle, and the predator's unblinking stare made it clear it knew she was no match for it. With a thunderous roar, the lion lunged. Elle sprinted down the long staircase, her legs pumping furiously as she dashed toward the direction she had come from. Every muscle screamed for her to run faster. The urgency of her situation left no room for error; stumbling or falling could mean her end. The lion was close, its powerful strides echoing behind her, a relentless reminder of its proximity. Elle's survival so far had been a series of close calls—saved by Apollo from Jack's attempt on her life and rescued by Jack himself in the arena. But now, there was no one to come to her aid.

Desperation fueled her speed as she navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the palace. The palace's vastness made it easy to lose her way, and she struggled to remember her path. Her screams echoed unanswered through the empty halls, and her pleas for help seemed to fall on deaf ears. The lion's snarls and snapping jaws grew louder, its pursuit relentless.

"SOMEONE HELP PLEASE!!!" Elle screamed as she ran, her voice tinged with panic. "ANGRY KITTY!!"
Elle's desperate cries tore through the air, but they were futile—this was no ordinary cat. The creature pursuing her was a monstrous lion, far larger than any natural predator, its sinewy frame rippling with serpent-like agility. Razor-sharp claws gouged the polished palace floors as it chased her, its growl reverberating like a thunderstorm. Her sprint felt useless against the beast's unnatural speed and power. Her legs burned as she pumped them furiously, her lungs screaming for air, but the lion closed the distance effortlessly. The sound of its snarling breath grew louder behind her, and a cold wave of dread swept over her.
Then came the impact.

Elle's world spun as something barreled into her from the side, tackling her to the floor with brutal force. The breath was knocked from her lungs, and her stomach dropped as a crushing weight pinned her down. Panic gripped her as she braced for the searing pain of claws tearing into her flesh—but it never came. Disoriented, Elle blinked, her head swimming as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings. She wasn't on the cold, unforgiving palace floor anymore. The lion's menacing presence had vanished as if it had been swallowed by the void. Instead, she found herself sprawled on a soft, snow-white carpet in one of the palace's winter-themed bedrooms. The cool air nipped at her skin, carrying the faint scent of pine and frost.

A figure loomed above her, pinning her down, its weight holding her firmly in place. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she looked up, her vision slowly focusing. Relief and disbelief coursed through her as she recognized him.
"Aiden... er... Apollo?" Elle stammered, her voice shaky and breathless.
The god of light stared down at her, his usually radiant demeanor absent. His face, typically so composed and serene, was set in a harsh scowl that seemed entirely uncharacteristic. His golden eyes burned with frustration, a glare so intense it made her shrink back instinctively.
Apollo rose smoothly to his feet, his movements precise and controlled, but his gaze never wavered. "What kind of idiot goes prancing around a castle full of gods and monsters alone?" he snapped.

Elle blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility in Apollo's voice. She had rarely seen him angry—never like this, and never directed at her. The near-death experience had left her frazzled, her thoughts jumbled as she tried to make sense of his outburst. "Well, I didn't mean to stumble upon a lion," she stammered, brushing her dark hair away from her face with trembling fingers. "I mean, really, who expects a real lion to be lurking on a staircase? It could've startled anyone—"