The Unreleased Chapter…

I knocked lightly on the door, careful not to wake the others. Being surrounded by so many pointy ears meant privacy was a rare luxury. Movement stirred behind the door, and my heart quickened as I stood there awkwardly, uncertain what to do with my hands. I clasped them, shoved them in my pockets, pulled them out again, then—

“Dani?”

I flinched, like I wasn’t the one who had knocked in the first place. Asmund stood in the doorway, shirtless, wearing loose cotton pants. A half grin crept across his face with every second I kept staring. I cleared my throat, mentally stabbing myself in the eyes for their lack of discipline.

“Can I come in?”

Shock flickered over his face, widening his eyes. He looked as though he couldn’t quite believe I had appeared at his door in the middle of the night, asking to be let in. You and I both.

“Ye-yeah, of course,” he said, stumbling over his words. He stepped aside, opening the door wider to make room for me.

I slipped past him, immediately overtaken by his scent. It wrapped around me—honey and clove—far stronger than I wanted it to be. I made a mental note to ask what oils he used. Crossing the room, I sat in the only empty chair without bothering to ask permission. That would’ve been even stranger.

Asmund shut the door behind me, one brow arching as his gaze swept over me from head to toe.

“What,” I bit out, not even bothering to make it sound like a question.

He leaned against the footboard of the bed, arms folding across his chest.

“I’m just checking for any weapons.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“I’m not going to stab you. If I wanted to, you’d already be dead.”

His half grin returned, the one that always made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. My eyes didn’t know where to settle.

“You want to put a shirt on, pretty boy?”

There was no way I was holding a conversation while he stood there half-naked, practically flexing in the candlelight. He caught his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes narrowing on me with a look that burned. I forced myself to stay still, expression neutral, even as my pulse betrayed me.

Finally, he reached back to the bed, grabbed a plain cotton shirt, and pulled it over his head. Somehow, that made it worse. Every movement, every flex of muscle, kept my eyes locked in place until I tore them away and thought of anything else. Severed Draugr heads. Blood. Gore.

He finished dressing and nodded toward me, silently urging me to begin.

Letting out a breath, I obliged. "I wanted to try something with you." His smile immediately returned, the silver practically glowing in the dim, candle lit room. Taking in a deep breath to stifle my anger, I continued. "I want to try and use your power, to draw from it like Agnes had believed I was doing by accident."

He moved a hand to his face, grabbing at his chin like he was contemplating it. I waited, but my patience was running thin.

"Do you know how to?" he asked. Well, no—not really.

"I think I know a way to try. Here." I rose from the chair and stepped toward him. "I need you to use your power in a controlled and small area. Like on here," I said, pulling the small table from beside the chair to sit between us. Asmund looked down at the table, then back up at me.

"And what do I get out of this?" I might actually have stabbed him then. I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring as what patience I had drained away.

"I could just take it from you. You didn't think I actually needed your cooperation, did you?" It was a bit over the top to threaten him, especially after I forced my way into his bedroom in the middle of the night. He cocked a brow at me again, as if asking whether I really wanted to try. I let out a small grunt and flung my arms back to my sides. "Fine, what do you want," I asked. It took him less than a second to answer.

"A kiss."

I searched his face for any sign of amusement to prove he was joking, but I found none. He couldn't be serious.

"What? No, absolutely not." My tone had been thick with disbelief that he was trying to use this as an opportunity to suck my face. The moment in the forest couldn’t happen again. He shrugged and walked to the side of his bed. "What are you doing?" I asked, confusion ringing through my voice.

Asmund rolled onto the top sheet of his bed, propping one arm behind his head before replying. "That's the deal Dani. Take it or leave it." I gaped at him. He acted like a petulant child who hadn't gotten his way. Or maybe I was the child; but I didn't feel like taking accountability.

"Leave it," I answered. I turned and started for the door when his voice stopped me.

"On the cheek?" he asked. Slowly turning back, my gaze narrowed on the smug king. "One kiss on the cheek, and you get to use my icy touch for as long as you want, beautiful." My eyes widened and I knew he could see my pulse racing along my throat. This was such a bad idea—horrible, selfish, irresistible. I swallowed and stepped toward him again, hardening my voice into stone.

"Fine. One kiss, but that's it." Asmund's smirk went devious as he propped himself on an elbow and gestured to the spot on the bed beside him. I ignored it, walking back to the table. "Form some ice or something on it, slowly," I directed.

He sighed but pushed himself up until he sat, leaning against the headboard.

"As you wish," he mocked.

I stood still and fixed my attention on the table as tiny splinters of ice began to form along the top, a spiderweb of crystals. I held out my right hand and focused on how his alfar felt against my skin. I closed my eyes and let my body zero in on the slight tether of power I felt coming from him. I imagined it in my mind; the way his power froze the air around him, tracing along the fine lines of the surface. I mentally grabbed the tether and willed it to form ice on my hand. I pictured it crawling over my skin, solidifying the moisture from my palm and the air. I felt the cool touch of tiny crystals splinter along my palm, then grow into larger clumps.

My eyes shot open and I stared at my hand, where not only ice had grown but a handful of snow sat as well. Joy spilled over me at the accomplishment. I looked up at Asmund with a grin plastered across my face. His smile matched mine as I formed more snow until it began falling over the edge of my hand. Ice was an entirely different process than my sparks. His power kept evolving, taking shapes I knew I could design. My lighting had always been unpredictable even when controlled.

"Congratulations, you froze water" he said in a mocking tone.

My gaze narrowed while snow continued to drift from my hand. He made fun of me, but I thought it was the coolest thing I had ever done. Crossing the room, I made my way to stand beside where he laid on the bed, an innocent smile on my face. His brows scrunched in confusion before something darker shaded his eyes. I stepped closer, giving him the sweetest look I could manage, then slapped the snow onto his face.

"What the fuck," Asmund exclaimed. His laugh punctuated the words as he wiped snow from his eyes and forehead. He cupped a small clump and examined it. "Yeah, that's definitely snow." I crossed my arms, proud that it had worked on the first try. Now I had another weapon in my arsenal.

"Guess you're not so special after all," I teased. He looked at me from where the snow clung to his hand, a challenge in his eyes.

"Can you do this?" He asked. I watched him blankly—expecting to see more ice forming in his hand. Suddenly, I began to feel snowflakes brushing against my skin. My gaze lifted, and awe spread through me as the entire room began to snow. The air shimmered with drifting flakes, catching the candlelight like shards of glass. I couldn’t help but marvel. Raising my hands, I let the flakes collect in my palms. My head tilted back on its own, eyes closing as the soft cold of each touch kissed my face and lashes.

I smiled up at the ceiling, bathed in falling snow born from nothing. Slowly, I began to twirl, the serenity of it consuming me. Then, out of nowhere, a hand wrapped around my waist. I gasped as Asmund pulled me flush against his chest, my feet leaving the ground.

Caught off guard, I stared up at him, wide-eyed, hands pressed against the coldness of his chest. He laughed, deep and unrestrained, and began to spin us both beneath the snowfall. A startled laugh burst out of me before I could stop it, joy bubbling up like a forgotten memory. The flakes grew larger, tumbling around us in thick spirals as he grinned—his elongated canines flashing through the laughter.

He dipped me as if we were dancing, forcing a squeal from my throat, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck to keep balance.

“The snow on your eyelashes matches your look,” he said, pulling me upright again.

I laughed, clutching tighter around him as he spun us faster. My laughter broke into another squeal as his cool breath brushed the side of my neck, followed by a low, rumbling laugh that vibrated through his chest.

For a moment, I felt like a child again; weightless, free, alive. The simple act of dancing in the snow overwhelmed me with a kind of joy I hadn’t realized I missed.

When Asmund lowered me back to the ground, I kept laughing, breathless. His expression softened, every trace of teasing replaced with something genuine—pure, unguarded happiness that illuminated his face. His hand lifted, brushing a thumb across my cheek to wipe away a melting flake. My laughter faded with each breath as our eyes met.

The silver in his gaze swirled like liquid light, slow and mesmerizing.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asked, voice low and soft.

My smile faltered. The joy in his eyes had shifted. It was still warm, but now charged with something deeper. Something I couldn’t pretend to be surprised by. I blinked, dislodging snow from my lashes.

“Once or twice.” My voice barely carried above a whisper.

His eyes drifted down my face, lingering on my lips before rising again.

“Maybe I should be telling you more, then,” he murmured. His tone matched mine in a quiet and intimate way, like a secret passed between us. His hand tightened at my waist, pulling me closer until I felt every line of him against me. My arms were still looped around his neck, our heartbeats hammering in dissonant rhythm.

I swallowed hard, torn between staying and fleeing. Between desire and survival. It always ended the same; with me diagnosing myself as a willing fool for pain. He must have seen it in my eyes because his voice dropped even lower.

“Do I get to claim my prize now? I did use my powers as you asked.” His breath ghosted across my lips.

“It might have been a little overkill,” I whispered.

“Dani,” Asmund rumbled, frustration vibrating through his chest into mine. The tension between us coiled tight.

It was always easier to believe restraint was a virtue when it disguised longing as sacrifice.

I met his eyes, then his lips, and tilted my head upward. “Yes.”

The word was barely air.

His grip on my waist tightened. The hand on my cheek slid into my hair, fingers threading through. His mouth drifted past my skin, exhaling softly as he trailed along the side of my face. His breath was cool while his pace was deliberate; his nose brushing and teasing. My whole body felt strung like a bowstring, my pulse thrumming faster than his.

Then his breath reached the edge of my jaw, and his lips finally pressed to my cheek. The touch was gentle—agonizingly so. My body unraveled in his arms, melting under that single, deliberate kiss. I had never realized how intimate something so innocent could feel.

He drew back, but only slightly. Close enough for his whisper to brush my ear.

“Was that good enough?”

A shiver ran down my spine. No. It wasn’t nearly enough. But I couldn’t say that, so I stayed silent.

“Do you want me to stop?” he prodded again.

I didn’t answer. His breath still ghosted against my skin, every exhale a question I refused to answer.

“Nod your head if you want me to stop, and I’ll let you go.”

I should have nodded. I needed to.

But I didn’t.

After a few more moments of silence, Asmund took that as permission. The instant I felt his teeth on my ear before his lips moved over it, I turned into liquid. His mouth traced my jawline and slid down my neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses that made me arch into him. He nibbled the crook of my neck and collarbone, then climbed back up to my face and captured my lips. By the time our mouths met, I had already slipped into a silent frenzy, madness threatening to take the wheel. The kiss deepened without warning, his tongue colliding with mine as I hauled him down toward me by the neck.

"Fuck, Dani," Asmund murmured against my lips. He moved us backward until the bed caught the backs of my knees. He laid my body down and crawled over me, his mouth never leaving mine. I lifted a leg to make room for him to nestle between my thighs. My hands tangled in his hair and on his shoulders while one of his went to my hips and the other remained at the base of my skull. He tasted like something sweet and trapping that made me want more. Heat spread from my stomach to between my legs; the frenzy and hunger from the woods rose up again and matched us both.

Asmund broke the kiss, moving down my neck instead. His tongue skated along the outside of my throat and I moaned, arching into his touch. A low growl answered against my skin and fed my fire. I clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel him. One of his hands slid beneath my shirt and a cold shiver ran through me as his icy fingers skimmed my stomach. He pushed the fabric up and my skin became molten under his mouth as he moved from neck to belly, leaving a path of kisses while the shirt rode higher. I groaned as he worked the fabric up; he looked at me with eyes silver as ice and full of raw want, silently asking permission to remove it. I reached down and shrugged the shirt off, sending it skittering aside.

I went to fumble the clasp of my black lace bralette, but Asmund’s hands stopped me.

“Let me, please.” His voice was gravelly and low; it made the ache between my thighs throb. He licked his lower lip and returned to my mouth, tasting me again. One of his hands found the front clasp. Unlike human bralettes, this elven piece opened from the front. With a quick flick, Asmund popped it open. My breasts were exposed to the cold air and to him. Still kissing, he slipped a strap off my shoulder and freed me from the garment before tossing it away. I laughed softly into his mouth and gasped as his hand moved from my arm to my breast.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned into my mouth. His fingers toyed with my nipple, pinching, then he lowered his head without breaking eye contact. I whimpered when he took my nipple into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth. Threading my fingers through his silver hair, I let my eyes flutter closed as my body answered his biting and licking. He moved to the other breast, palming the first one that was now slick from his tongue. Gods, it felt devastatingly good and impossibly wrong. He bit down a little harder, drawing a louder moan from us both, then captured it again with his lips. The kiss was savage and unrestrained. I felt the sharp tip of his canines graze my nipple, forcing me to try and close my thighs for some pressure.

Asmund answered my press against his sides with a push of his hips against me. A gasp escaped me as I felt the long, hard ridge of his cock push against my clit. His lips left my breasts, trailing down my stomach and leaving wet marks upon every inch of my skin until he came upon the top button of my pants. He didn’t need to ask for permission that time. While staring directly at me, Asmund pressed his lips to the outside of my thin pants. His eyes flared as I knew he could feel how wet I was. He looked more animalistic than I had ever seen him before.

Using one of his hands at my back, Asmund hauled me closer with a pull towards his lips, but for a heartbeat his touch stilled.

Something cold uncoiled in me at once. The thought of my scars and the tattoo flared like an alarm and I froze. I did not want to be asked about them. I did not want that night to reopen. I knew he had seen my shoulders on the beach, but this was more than that. He noticed the shutdown, pulling back from my pants.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked. I could not speak. My body trembled and my breaths came faster. Asmund moved, gripping my face with both hands and forced me to look at him. "Dani, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice scraped along the raw edges of me as my brain shorted out and my body shook. My jaw locked, lips quivering. His hands smoothed hair from my eyes while he searched my expression. I couldn’t do this.

“Get off,” I demanded, voice trembling and cold.

His eyes widened in horror, but he moved off immediately. I bolted upright, turning my back away from him and yanking my shirt from the floor, pulling it on as if it could armor me.

“Dani, I don’t care about the—” he started, but I did not wait to hear the rest. I ran from the room before he finished.