Zane looked struck. “Helen…you can’t. If it was an option, I would have done it by now.”

I sighed, and an untimely laugh escaped me. “Let’s just forget it.” I scrubbed my eyes and slumped back to sit. “I’m too tired to deal with this right now.”

Zane’s lips twisted like he’d eaten something sour. It brought my gaze to his mouth, and when I didn’t find anything else to look at, a slow smile spread across his face. A blush soaked mine. I forced my eyes back up to his and kept them there. “Do you want me to kiss you, Trite?” he asked. “Will that make you better?”

“What?” I scrambled to reposition my legs. “No. That’s not what I was…”

His smile grew, irises lighting. Zane dropped his Patrol staff and leaned forward, bringing his face before mine. I stopped breathing but he waited, mouth hovering, his lashes nearly brushing me. “You do want me to, but you also don’t,” he said. He bit his lip and pulled back, draping an arm over his knee. The space between us felt like a cavern that had appeared too fast.

“Good grief, Zane. I never said I wanted you to do that.” I hugged my arms to myself.

“You’re all wishwashy.” Zane tapped his fingers on his legs. “I’ll kiss you when I know you want me to, Helen. That’s a Winter promise.”

I huffed. “You’re so…”

His dimples appeared with his smile. “I certainly hope so. I’d hate to make things too easy for you, grumpy Trite.”

I reached to shove him off balance, but he snatched my wrist and tickled inside my elbow. I released an unfeminine shriek-laugh before tearing my arm away.

“You’re frustrating too, Helen Bell,” he said. “You don’t know the half of it.”

A pair of snow rabbits rolled from beneath a log when we emerged from the cave the next morning. They grinned, eyeing our backpacks with their greedy blue eyes.

“What are we going to do if we get to the key room and it’s guarded by an army?” I asked Zane as we trudged over snow-dusted logs and rocks.

“I suppose we’ll turn back.” He tugged on his gloves as we walked, glancing up at the hazy heavens. A moment later, he extended a hand to me. “Enough walking.”

After hours of gliding over white dunes, things started looking familiar. I could almost hear Mara Rouge’s snow-pups howling from Wentchester Cove, the gnomes clashing their weapons against their armour.

I shuddered when we reached the valley. I forced myself to face it—the cove where it all began for me. But I blinked.

“It’s empty,” I said.

Zane eyed the landscape; the pillars, the glassy rink, the beige cliffside. “Maybe the Beast doesn’t believe this place is a threat anymore.”