Etched in Frost (Hallowed Harbingers #1)

by L.R. Friedman

She’s become my heartbeat. The only one I have now. She pulses with a certainty that is etched into my skin and sinks deep into my bones. If she were to claim me as hers, as I long to claim her as mine, the world itself would come to life, full of color and possibility.

“Every day you continue to amaze me. One day, when I get to claim you, body and soul, I’ll show you just how much you do.”

“I’m not a mere mortal man.” “Well, that’s obvious,” I agree, gesturing at his very unique erection.

“Excited is good. I’m down with excited.” Lark bounces into the room. Her arm drops by her side, but she still holds the shoe. “I thought something murdery was happening.” “Nope. Nothing murdery.” I laugh, nodding toward her hand. “Though, I’m glad you were ready to fight…with your very dangerous shoe.” Her gaze hones on mine. “Always.” I arch a brow at her. “What were you planning to do?” “We both know the blocks of these babies can hurt. Figured I could swing ’em around a bit, maybe strangle them with a ribbon.” “You’ve thought about this in far too much detail.”

“Are you trying to kill me, Tempest?” I slide down his shaft, replacing my mouth with my hand. “I thought you were immortal,” I tease, then flick his tip with my tongue. His brows scrunch together, hips bucking with my silky strokes. “Let’s see you give that snark when my cock’s buried inside you, pumping you full of me for days.”

“Ever since you came into my life, before I even understood why, I saw you in my dreams and in my waking hours. At first, I thought I was crazy. I couldn’t understand everything that was happening. But I do feel this tether between us. It’s as real to me as you are. I may just be mortal—” “You aren’t just anything, Tempest,” Jax says, platinum brows drawing together, tone deadly serious. “You are everything.”

“Everything I am and everything I will be is yours, Tempest.”

“Fuck me. Bite me. Claim me. Please.”

“I’m going to take you so hard, when you come on this cock, I will be drenched. Then I’ll bite you. Fill your sweet pussy. Do it over and over again until I’m leaking down your thighs.” She whimpers at that, and fuck if it doesn’t do something to me. “You want that, Tempest?”

Despite the distance, our love continues to grow. Even when he’s away and unreachable, I can feel him. He’s the whisper of the wind, the cold settled in my bones, the flakes that fall outside. The sun can be shining, the windows clear and untouched, and the flowers in bloom, and he’s still here with me. Always with me.

Dance may be the love of my life, but Jax is the love of my existence.