Kresley Cole - Untuchable

“What the hell is going on with you?” Sebastian said.

Murdoch knew he must be shocking them. For so long he’d been carefree. “Don’t want to be here,” he muttered. The need to talk to his brothers pressed on him, but he volunteered nothing, keeping at least one vow to Daniela.

Only now did he understand why she’d been so secretive about them. I wouldn’t have bet on a future with me either. Definitely wouldn’t have advertised it.

When dawn came, his brothers slept, but Murdoch dreaded dreaming about her, stealing more of her memories. Hour after hour, he paced, feeling a madness creeping over him. The bars were keeping him from her. Silently, he strained against them. Want to be with her . He couldn’t budge them.

Eventually, exhaustion ruled and he passed out, unwillingly slipping into dreams. This time, he saw the reflection of a young girl—he knew it was Daniela—gazing back at him from a mirror. A striking woman with the same unusual coloring as Daniela was behind her, fitting a crown atop her head. Her mother? They spoke to each other in a language that sounded similar to Icelandic, but he understood it…

“ You already know the way,” the mother said. “ You just haven’t remembered it yet. ”

Then came a more recent memory: Daniela staring at her ice carvings, wondering, Are these clues how to get to Icergard…?

Murdoch woke in a rush, shooting up from his cot in the middle of the day. “It’s so bloody hot in here!” He yanked off his jacket in irritation.

When Nikolai rose to stoke the fire, Murdoch grated, “No, no fire! Put it out.” He imagined frost. Blood served cold. For once, he craved being back amid the ice at the lodge.

Sebastian was awake as well and frowned at him. “It’s actually cool.”

“How can you say that?” he snapped, unable to contain his aggravation. Then he stilled. Were his breaths… smoking? He traced to the suite’s bathroom, gazing in the mirror. His breaths didn’t fog the glass. As Daniela’s didn’t. Blue tinged his lips and under his eyes.

My God. The reason he’d felt so hot—her blood was running through his veins.

Nikolai had told him that Myst’s blood made him even stronger. Sebastian had said the same about drinking Kaderin’s.

Why couldn’t Daniela’s make Murdoch more like her? He gave a shout of laughter. I’ve found a way to touch her!

Then his heart sank. Just when I’ve lost her. He was trapped by his own king, by his loyalty to his brother…

Another day dragged by, then two. As their imprisonment wore on, Murdoch began returning to his normal temperature, which maddened him even more. He couldn’t lose this coldness—otherwise he’d have to hurt her again.

If he was ever freed from this bloody cell. And if she’d ever let him drink her.

“ Nikolai! Where are you? ”

Murdoch shot awake, his gaze darting. He could have sworn he’d heard Conrad—in Oblak—yelling for Nikolai. But all was quiet, his brothers still sleeping. He must’ve dreamed it. Strange, he usually dreamed of nothing but Daniela.

With a weary exhalation, he rose. More than two weeks gone. The brothers and their king were locked in a stalemate. Would they stay here indefinitely?

As he did every night, Murdoch tried and failed to drink enough to sustain his weight. Then he prowled from one wall to the next, deciphering more scenes from Daniela’s life that he’d witnessed in sleep.

Her memories were becoming clearer to him. When he dreamed, he felt how lonely she’d been, how she’d tried not to nurse hope over Murdoch. Once a rogue, always a rogue.

He’d done so little to set her mind at ease, had done nothing to make sure she understood her loneliness was over. I never told her I’m in love with her. Instead, he’d voiced his doubts.

During one miserable day, he’d seen her memory of that night with Jádian and had learned her thoughts as she’d kissed the Iceren.

She’d been thinking about Murdoch. Danii had chosen him over a male who could touch her, a nobleman of her own kind who could kiss her. She hadn’t been thinking about bailing on Murdoch at all. At least not before he’d hurt her, attacked her.

This situation was intolerable. To be kept from Daniela now? Murdoch wanted her so much, he’d once actually considered betraying his brother—

“ Nikolai!” The word boomed down the castle corridor, echoing.

Nikolai and Sebastian shot awake.

Dear God. “Was that…?”

“Conrad,” Nikolai said. “He’s here .”

Maybe I’m not home.

Danii sat upon her throne, among her own kind in a paradise of ice, and she was… bored.

Days ago, she’d been crowned with much fanfare. The Icere had prepared banquets, carved sculptures in her honor, and played music. Plus, they’d declared a snow day at the castle—literally, it had fallen from the ceilings.

And since the festivities?

Jádian was a constant bodyguard, always nearby, always solemn. Most of the fey she’d met could be described as “serious.” She’d figured this was an aftereffect of having an evil dictator ruling them for so long—but had learned this was just their nature.

Here, there were no practical jokes, no sisters bent on thieving her clothing. No gorgeous vampires to tackle into the snow.

Time seemed to be moving as slowly as the glaciers surrounding them. She wondered if it was possible to expire from boredom. The study begins… now .

To make matters worse, she missed Murdoch like an ache. Every day, she dwelled on what she could have done differently. Perhaps I shouldn’t have kissed another man? Just a thought.

But that indiscretion hadn’t mattered. She and Murdoch had already been finished. Danii had thought they would be together forever, but he hadn’t agreed, hadn’t believed that they were worth the fight—

With a sudden flush of guilt, she recognized that maybe she hadn’t truly committed either. Hadn’t she herself given them a one-in-fifty shot? She’d been betting against them from the beginning, might as well have gone and signed Loa’s book…

Across the throne room, Jádian turned to her with his brows raised. Since she’d arrived, she hadn’t seen him smile once. There’d been no more flirting from him. She’d concluded that he was devoted to his people, had probably only kissed her to sway her to come to Icergard.

His name of Jádian the Cold was well earned. Thinking back over his fight with Murdoch, she recalled that Jádian’s pulse had never gotten elevated. He’d been indignant, ready to die for his queen. But he hadn’t been ready to lose his temper for her.

Aside from being unemotional, he had a reputation for cold-blooded ruthlessness. Her ladies-in-waiting had told her how he’d blamed the death of his wife on Sigmund, conspiring relentlessly for years, only waiting for Daniela to be located before striking.

They’d also spoken of sordid rumors that Jádian had once kept a seductive fire demoness as his prisoner hidden in the dungeon…

He crossed to Danii then. “You are unhappy here.” It wasn’t a question, but he did sound disbelieving.

“I… it’s been a big change.”

“You’ll grow accustomed.” He was no-nonsense and logical to the point that most Valkyrie would deem him a buzz kill. But he was beloved by the orderly people here.

“Jádian, I was recalling our kiss.”

He stiffened, as if he thought she’d want to resume some dalliance with him. “What of it?”

“You weren’t thinking about me.”

“And you were imagining that I was a vampire,” he said with the tiniest hint of irritation, adding, “my queen.”