Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,82
heat soaking in. “What was it when my tongue was deep in you? Making you scream so loud?” A throaty groan fluttered my lids, the unbearable need for him to do it again curving me into him. He hissed under his breath, his hand forcing my chin up, his mouth a hair from mine. “I’m the most real fucking thing in your world, and you know it.”
Shit. I did. He felt like the only real thing to me, pumping my blood, animating the lifeless girl. But there was no way I would ever admit it to him.
“So, tell me, do I feel like I am just in your mind?”
“No.” I swallowed. “But crazy runs in my family, so I’m probably not the best judge.”
He huffed. “Your sister isn’t any crazier than you. Well, not in the way you mean.”
I froze, blinking in confusion. “I didn’t say sister. How do you know I had a sister?”
“Not important right now.” His thumb pressed down harder on my pulse, the hot and cold flaming through my veins, forcing me to bite down on my lip. “I need you to tell me what you remember. How did you do it? I need to know now, before it’s too late.”
“Know what? How did I do what? Before what is too late?”
He watched me for a long beat as if he were trying to read me, see if I was being earnest. “You really don’t remember, do you?”
“No.” I swallowed against his grip, the firmness of his hold stirring excitement in my blood. “I want to. I want to remember everything. I want to remember my time here. When did I first come down? I want to know why I can walk through mirrors. How I found the same mirror over twelve years later. How I can break it and it heals itself.”
“What?” Frost went rigid, his gaze sharpening on me. “What do you mean you broke it?”
“I smashed it with a hammer the other day, shattered it into bits, but then this morning I knew without even looking it was healed.”
Frost stepped back, his abrupt movement stiffening my vertebrae.
“What?” Nerves stretched across my neck, making me swallow. “What is it?”
“Are you sure you broke it?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I took a hammer to it.”
Frost turned away from me, starting to pace.
“What’s wrong?”
He grunted, his hand running over his arm, nerves dancing down his forearms looking like hot wires.
“Frost?” I blocked his path, directing his eyes to me, which seemed to blister brighter than usual. “Tell me.”
“It shouldn’t repair itself. Once broken, they are broken forever. It’s why we have so few mirrors here now,” he said, rolling his shoulders as though they were hurting. “I thought mine was a fluke.”
“Yours?”
“I destroyed this one too.”
“What?” I tipped my head. “You mean the one upstairs in perfect condition?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Blaze thought I demolished it, and I had, but it showed up out of the blue in the room about six months ago. Intact.”
“Six months?” I pinched my lips together. “It suddenly appeared six months ago?”
“Yeah, why?” He wiped his damp forehead, his cheeks looking ruddy.
“Because I bought mine six months ago.”
His blue eyes bore into me, the weight coating my skin.
“What?” I whispered.
“Only a mated pair has the power to keep finding each other. And I’ve heard of just one in the history of Winterland.”
“Mated pair?” Terror knocked me back into the wall again, my eyes wide.
He reclaimed the space between us. “Here, mirrors are extremely rare. They are used to journey between places. The traveler can go to any other place where there’s a mirror, with the destination clear in their mind. I’ve heard of just one set of mirrors being linked to only each other. Supposedly they can show you to the person who owns the other mirror, wherever they are in the world. The mirrors are said to be a myth…an old legend. They aren’t supposed to be factual.”
“That’s ironic.” I snorted. “A myth in the land of fantasy and fables.”
“You forget, little Liddell.” His nearness forced me to tip back my head against the wall, his hand cupping my jaw. “This place is real for us.” He tipped even closer, his mouth almost brushing mine. “And I guarantee it will feel very real to you. You will believe.”
“What did I do to you?” I whispered.
“What didn’t you do…”
“Blaze said not to trust you…that your mother was gone because of you.”
“You think I killed her?” He tipped his head, staying a breath away from