“Oooh,” Armmie said. “Yummy, can I have him to myself? Just this once…”
“Quiet,” Dasha hissed. “Can´t you see it´s Wolf the Bringer of Frost?”
“Crap,” Armmie blurted and disappeared below the surface as did the rest of the god´s.
Freya who was still sitting in the tree got just as panicky, but there was no way she would be able to get down to the river and disappear together with the others. Or could she? Worth a shot, Freya thought and climbed down as quickly as she could, feeling the stranger’s eyes all over her body.
“Wait,” he said in a deep and raspy voice but Freya wasn´t that stupid. Just when she was about to take a dive, he stopped her.
“I said wait,” he said impatiently, putting a hand into the river, turning it to frost so that Freya couldn´t move.
She was stuck.
Chapter Two
The frosty river was now just below her collarbones and she tried to break free, but it was useless. The stranger looked at her curiously and crouched down by the shore. His face was clean shaven and the skin slightly darker than hers but more rugged.
“Release me,” Freya said angrily, just before she remembered that, that was not the way to talk to someone who could turn your rivers to ice. “I mean, please let me go.”
A small amusement showed up in his beautiful eyes. They were the color of cold diamonds and shadowed by dark eyelashes. His hair was straight, nearly white going past his shoulders and brushed away from his sharp and slightly stern looking features. The lips were full, yet masculine. He lifted his gloved hand brushing his chiseled jaw, as if he was rethinking something.
“Will you disappear on me if I do?” he asked.
“No.” Yes.
He smiled a little but the smile didn´t reach his eyes.
“Ah, you god´s are tricky creatures. Forgive me if I don´t take your word for it.” He reached out and grabbed a hold of her upper arm, his fingers gentle but firm and Freya wanted to fight him but she didn´t. It would be unwise to anger someone like him. With a light touch against the ice, he made it break but none of the shards rasped Freya´s skin.
Freya was about to back away when he suddenly lifted her in the air as if she weighed nothing. But he hadn´t been prepared for her slippery skin and for a second he lost his grip, making her fall against him. She gasped and he hissed as his erection pressed against her lower belly.
He kept holding on to her, his eyes wandering over her traditional clothing, a soaking white dress in a thin material that clung to her as a second skin. Her eyes with their murky blue, ethereal color were big in her face and her lips plump and a glossy pink. He stared at her, hungrily and greedily until Freya squirmed.
“Put me down,” she said in a small voice. He was so much bigger than her, dwarfing her almost and Freya who was used to mortal men found him intimidating. As if coming out of a trance, he gently put her down on the shore, looking like he was surprised by her. Or maybe, surprised by his reaction to her.
“Now, if you don´t mind, I´d like to meet up with the others,” Freya said, just about to hop into the river before he stopped her.
“No,” he said sharply, grabbing her arm again. His dark brows frowned over his eyes and suddenly he looked so furious that Freya took a wobbly step back. “Not…not yet,” he said more gently and reluctantly let her go. “Don´t be afraid of me. Tell me your name.”
She hesitated but then said. “Freya.”
“Freya,” he said slowly as if he was tasting it. “It is beautiful, just like you.”
Freya blushed but then she turned cold again. The last man who had called her beautiful had been Philip, the only one she had ever loved and ever would love.
“Did I offend you?” he asked surprised.
Freya knew that she probably had looked angry.
“Not at all, but I forgot to mention that it is actually Freya of the Emerald Forest and I don´t appreciate you coming here and freezing my home.”
He frowned again, looking as if he was getting angrier and angrier by the minute and Freya wanted to take her words back.
“I…I mean,” she started to stutter when a laughter broke out from his chest. It´s rumbling gave Freya goose bumps and she looked up at him, both cautiously and with annoyance.
“Of course, you don´t,” he said, shaking his head as if he was scolding himself for the way he was acting. “And I should probably introduce myself. I am Wolf the Bringer of Frost and the king of Ice Falls.”
“I know who you are,” Freya said because the god´s were notoriously afraid of him. Afraid that he would turn their rivers and streams into frost, making their favorite hobby of drowning mortals impossible. But despite Wolf being well known, Freya had in fact only seen him once.
A time when she´d been sunbathing, she had noticed him pass the river. Quickly she had hid behind the rocks, spying on him and due to his intimidating appearance she had been relieved that his gaze hadn´t settled on her.
“Do you?” Wolf asked with a raised eyebrow. “What is it that you know?”
“You´re the one who has been turning the crops into frost.”
“Only accidentally,” he shrugged and it made Freya angry. The mortals depended on their crops for their income and the animals depended on living nature to be able to feed. Freya pushed her anger down.
“You are far away from Ice Falls,” she continued. “What brings you here?”
She hoped that he was going
