I count back in my head. “It’s been six days since the tunnels. So by tomorrow, you should be able to go out in the sun again.”
He shrugs. “Probably the day after to be safe. And that’s if I don’t…”
“If you don’t bite me again.” A sudden surge of heat flares through me.
Now he’s the uncomfortable-looking one. “Something like that, yeah.”
“Something like that?” I put my cup down on the bench and wrap my good arm around his waist. “ Or that exactly?”
He looks down at me, eyes dark and just a little bit dangerous. “That exactly,” he murmurs. And I know—if I wasn’t covered from head to toe in piles of clothes, he might very well be biting me right now. The idea gives me a thrill I don’t even try to pretend away.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Jaxon warns. “Or I’m going to take you back to your room, and we’re not going to do what I brought you here for.”
Not going to lie. Going back to my room suddenly sounds pretty good. Except… “Why are we here?”
“Why else?” He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a long, skinny carrot and a hat. “To build a snowman.”
“A snowman?” I gasp. “Really?”
“Flint’s not the only one who knows how to play in the snow around here.” His face stays relatively expressionless, but there’s a bite to his words that has me wondering all kinds of things. Including if Jaxon could possibly be jealous…which seems absurd, considering Flint tried to kill me on three separate occasions. Not a lot there to inspire jealousy.
“Well, are you coming?” Jaxon asks as he leans down and starts scooping snow into a giant ball. “Or are you just going to watch?”
“It’s a good view,” I tell him, openly checking out his very fine ass—which is encased in way fewer layers than mine currently is. “But I’ll help.”
He just rolls his eyes at me. But he does wiggle his butt a little—which makes me laugh. A lot.
It’s not long before we’re both cracking up as we stare at what has to be the world’s most lopsided snowman. Which makes sense for me, because I’m a San Diego girl. But Jaxon has lived in Alaska for years. Surely he’s built a snowman before.
I start to ask, but there’s something about the way he’s staring at our snowman that makes me hold my tongue. Even as it makes me wonder if maybe Jaxon hasn’t had much time to play in his life—even when he wasn’t first in line for the throne.
The thought makes me sad as he looks around for stones to use for the snowman’s eyes. He’s been through so much in his life. It amazes me how he could have gone through all of that and still emerge on the other side, this boy who feels so much. Who cares so much. And who is willing to try to play for me.
It humbles me even as it makes me ache for him.
The ache only gets worse as I remember the question that’s been nagging at me on and off since I woke up in that infirmary three days ago. “Jaxon?”
“Yeah?” Something in my voice must tip him off, because his smile fades into concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask…” I take a deep breath and blurt out the question I’ve tried so hard to ignore. “Where did Hudson go? I mean, we saw Lia die. But where did the black smoke go? Did it die with her? Or…” I don’t finish, because the thought is too horrible.
But Jaxon’s never been one to sugarcoat things—or avoid them. His face turns grim as he answers, “I haven’t figured that out yet. But I will. Because there’s no way in hell I’m risking Hudson being set loose on the world a second time.”
There’s such vehemence in his tone that it hurts to hear it, especially knowing how much Jaxon has already suffered because of his brother. I hate that he’s had to go through so much, hate even more that the threat of Hudson coming back will probably hang over us forever.
After all, it’s hard to relax when a homicidal sociopath has it out for you…and the rest of the world.
Jaxon’s obviously better at dealing with his fear than I am, though—or maybe it’s just that he’s had longer to live with the threat. Whatever it is, he’s able to shoot me a real smile as he finally makes the snowman a face out of stones and the carrot he brought for the nose. “Come on,” he says. “You get to do the pièce de résistance.” He hands me the hat.