Enchanted Frost (Frost Series #8) (A YA Romantic Fantasy Adventure) (12 page)

          “The
White Witch?”

          “One
of the most powerful beings of all time. But she can't be in Feyland – it's
impossible!”

          “Why?”

          “She
hasn't been seen in Feyland in centuries. Some say that she was banished – that
the White Witch was forbidden from ever entering Feyland, bound by some of the
strongest Fey magic. She is unable to enter Feyland uninvited – and the only
person who could invite her in is someone who holds all of Feyland's power...”

          “Unless...”
The thought came unbidden into my mind, seizing hold of my brain, choking my
thoughts.

          “Unless
what?” Logan turned to me.

          “Think
about it, Logan,” my voice began to tremble. “Who has access to Feyland's
power, to the truly great magic?”

          “Only
its rulers,” Logan said. “You, your father, and...” He stopped short. “Oh,” he
said, his voice growing hollow. “You mean...”

          “He
could be in danger, Logan!” I felt the tears come to my eyes. “That dream I had
– it felt real,
so
real. I think he's in trouble, Logan – I just know he
is! And if this White Witch got him in her clutches somehow, that could be how
she got into Feyland! If she made him let her into Feyland...”

          “Impossible,”
Logan said. He put an arm around me, rubbing my back, releasing the tension
from my spine. “That's not how invitations work. Nobody can be forced to use
their magic like that – the only way the Witch could have gotten in is if Kian
invited her in, willingly. So I wouldn't worry if I were you. Whatever magic is
happening, I'm sure Kian has nothing to do with it.” He leaned and embraced me,
pressing me against his body. I inhaled the musky, delicious scent of him, the
intoxicating woodland scent that reminded me of our childhood days, allowing
myself to linger in his arms, to savor the slow comforting power of his touch,
the way it seemed to take away my pain, even for a little while. I closed my
eyes as he tightened his grip on me, savoring our closeness. Logan always had a
way of quieting my troubles, of making my pain less sharp, of calming my heart.
I breathed out slowly, feeling my body press against his as I exhaled. I leaned
my head against his neck, the bristles from his stubble tickling my chin.

          “You're
so soft...” his voice was low, urgent, pained. “You have no idea just how soft
your skin is.” He let his fingers trace upwards along my palm. It felt so good
to have him there, so close, so near. His body comforting me, fitting and
forming to mine, the way it always did. And then, all at once, he stopped,
standing up abruptly and walking away. “I'm sorry, Breena. I'm so, so, sorry.
But I can't.” He swallowed hard. “Not anymore.”

          He
turned to me, and I saw upon Logan's face a look of utter agony, of pain that
I'd never seen before. His eyes were dark with sadness, black with a sense of
loss I'd never seen in them before. His skin had gone pale and sallow; he
looked half-shocked, utterly exhausted. And his agony, the pain he suffered,
was palpable; I felt it too, without even knowing what it was.

          “What
is it?” I whispered, my voice shaking with the effort to remain calm. “Logan,
what's going on?”

          He
shook his head with a slow, deliberate gesture. “I'm sorry, Breena,” he said,
his voice remaining so calm that it was almost a deadpan, as if all his effort
were going into stopping his voice from devolving into sobs. “I can't do this
anymore,” he said. “I need to be selfish, now – a little selfish. I want so
badly to be there for you, to comfort you, to wrap my arms around you when you
need help, when you need a friend, to be there for you every moment of every
day, to give everything to you. But I can't break my heart like this anymore,
Breena. I can't stand this suffering. As much as I wish I could be strong for
you – be strong
like
you, I cannot. I want to be your noble knight, the
warrior by your side, the chivalrous knight who, without any hope of being
loved in return by the woman he adores, his lady love, nevertheless spends his
life serving her. But I can't do that anymore, Breena.”

          “Maybe,
deep down, I hoped that once Kian was gone, if I could only just
show
you
that I'd never hurt you, if I could only just convince you that I'd never treat
you badly, then, maybe, you'd see that we were meant to be together, you and I.
Maybe you'd realize that our hearts should beat as one. But I've done all that.
I've been here by your side, shown you that I'll stay even when Kian goes, that
you can rely on me even when you can't rely on him. But he's still the one you
love, Breena. He's the one you'll love for the rest of eternity. And now I see,
for the first time, clearly, that there was never any chance for me.”

“Logan....I....”
I couldn't meet his eyes. I looked down in shame, my cheeks flushing hot. I
knew that his words were true, but I could not bring myself to admit just how
true they were. “I'm so sorry, Logan....”

“You
never led me on,” he said. “You've been honest with me from the start. But
these moments, these moments where I'm touching you, feeling your beautiful,
soft skin against mine, feeling your pulsing heartbeat against mine, feeling
you, needing you, wanting you...these are moments where I delude myself into
thinking that the desire you feel for me – the desire I cannot deny we
both
feel
– is more than a pale shadow of what you feel for Kian. And I can't be celibate
forever, being your Knight, waiting on you, hoping on you, wanting you. I need
to move on, Breena. I need to find a woman who loves me the way I love you,
whom maybe, one day, I can love as I loved you.” He swallowed back his tears.
“And that means we need to be careful, Breena. I need to pull back from you,
emotionally. I need my space for a while. We need to be friendly – but maybe a
little distant, for a while. Until I'm over you. Until we can be best friends
again.”

“But
we will be best friends again, right?” My lips trembled. I couldn't bear to
think of Logan slipping away – of losing him, too, after I'd lost Kian...

          “I
think we will,” said Logan. “Soon. And for as long as this emergency goes on,
I'll protect you – of course I will. I will keep you safe. But we can't
be....this close. This physical. The way we are now. Not without me feeling the
pain of your not loving me so keenly – every day, every moment. I need to make
room for my own heart.”

          I
couldn't deny that his words had struck a blow. But nor could I deny, either,
that he was right. I knew, deep down, that our friendship had become toxic –
tempting both of us with desires we could never act upon, dragging others into
this emotional mess, hurting Kian, hurting Rose – whose unrequited love for
Logan was a secret from nobody except Logan himself, and from poor Alistair,
who remained oblivious to the torch she carried, hopelessly, for the Lone Wolf.
No, if we got through this alive, we had to change. We had to act fairly,
rightly – not only by each other, but by the others in our lives. I had to
commit to Kian, once and for all, to stop thinking of Logan as a potential
backup, as the road not taken, as the one who had gotten away. And Logan had to
commit to moving on, to finding another girl, to being open to the possibility
of falling for her. And I had to curb the stupid, irrational, petty jealousy at
the thought of the girl that Logan might eventually love.

          “I
guess we've got a lot of growing up to do, huh?” I whispered.

          “Yeah,”
Logan said. He did not look at me. “I guess so.” He sighed. “By the suns of
Feyland, Breena, this is harder than any battle I've ever fought.” He did not
take my hand, but I know we both ached for each other's touch.

          “For
me, too,” I said, looking away, hiding my tears. “But I understand.”

          “Right.”

          “Right.”

          “Good?”

          “Good.”

          That
night we slept on the ground, at a safe and lonely distance from one another. I
did not sleep. I kept my eyes on the stars, shivering with the cold, but
knowing that Logan's arms would never warm me again.

          And
praying that Kian's would.

Chapter 15

         
I
spent the night lying awake, staring at the stars, trying to make sense of my
emotional state. So much had happened in such a short space of time. A few
weeks ago I was happy; I was secure. Everything was fine. I was in love with my
fiancé; we had rescued Feyland; we had united Winter and Summer and returned
the twin suns to the sky. We had been ready to settle down after a lifetime's
worth of misadventures and struggles; we had suffered so much and at last we
were ready to claim the happiness, the rest, that had been eluding us for so
long. But what went wrong? I tried to put the pieces together in my head. Had I
screwed up – had it been simply that my indecisiveness had transformed my life
from a paradise into torment in a matter of days? I'd lost Kian; he had gone I
knew not where, to some mysterious land, into dangers that left me reeling with
nightmares, to decide whether or not our relationship was worth salvaging from
the ashes of his mistrust. I'd lost my crown, my people, the love of all those
whom I had given up my future in the mortal world to rule. I'd given up the
only home I'd ever known, the only place I'd ever belonged, all my dreams and
plans and hopes for the future that I'd grown up with ever since I was a little
girl, given up everything familiar to me in order to venture into this brave
new world of magic and adventure, to bring peace to this bitterly torn land,
rent asunder by strife. I'd given up my dream of becoming a conservation
specialist, working in the national parks of the American West. I'd given up so
much for Feyland – and now Feyland had given up on me. They no longer wanted
me; they no longer loved me. Not just my rule was in jeopardy, if the mob
violence was anything to go by; these people wanted my head. I thought of Marie
Antoinette, whom I'd read about in AP European History back in high school. The
French Queen who, deposed by the people, was decapitated by guillotine in the
public square. Would that be my fate, too, if I couldn't win the love of the
people back? Would this be how I was remembered – as a capricious,
over-ambitious tyrant, who had let her heart run away with her, and who had
sacrificed her people in order to focus on her romantic intrigues? That's
certainly what they all thought.

          I
tried to tell myself that it was just a spell, just a lie, just a vision – that
the people who hated me were only doing so because the enchantment had hexed
their minds. But deep down, my fears turned my own mind against me. What if
their hatred was justified? What if I deserved the chaos that was happening to
me; what if I deserved the way that life seemed to be falling down around my
ears?

          Normally,
I would have gone to Logan, asked him for help, talked to him about my
feelings. I would have showed him my vulnerabilities – weaknesses I didn't feel
comfortable sharing with anyone, not even Kian. I would have confessed to him
how unsure I was about everything. But as I watched him sleep, nestled across
the glen from me, I knew that this option was closed to me now. For both our
sakes, for both our mental health, I had to cut off this reliance on him – at
least for now. Until he could move on; until I could move on. It wasn't fair to
emotionally rely on him the way I did – no matter how much I cared for him –
until he was able to disentangle himself from the complex web of emotion that
bound us inextricably together – until he was able to move on from me.

          I
sat and listened to the sound of the crickets, pondering my fate. Right now,
everything seemed strange, uncertain. I was immortal – but did I want that
immortality, if that meant living forever apart from Kian, apart from Logan?
And what would happen if I lost my kingdom, lost my people, lost Kian? Would I
stay in Feyland? Or would I go back to the Land Beyond the Crystal River and
try to make a life there. Without either Logan and Kian. I smiled bitterly. I
couldn't imagine what a life outside of Feyland would be like. I'd never love
again – I knew that all too well – but perhaps I could try something like
normalcy. A normal life, a normal job, contented solitude. Trying to forget
Feyland, as if it were nothing more than a midsummer night's dream. Perhaps
that was what I was meant to do now.

          But
something within me raged against the prospect.
No
, I told myself.
You're
part of this now, Breena. You'll keep your throne or you'll perish in the
attempt. This life, this world, is part of you – and you could never be happy
anywhere but here. You belong to Feyland, and Feyland to you. This throne is
your birthright; it is your destiny. And you yourself know that whatever
happens, you'll never leave it, never stop trying, never give up, never
surrender. No matter what happens.
It was true. I would face a thousand
mobs rather than retreat in despair.

          When
I heard the rustling of the leaves, my body tensed up. Was my first mob on the
horizon – had somebody found me at last? I heard the sound of footsteps coming
towards the glen.