Chapter 121: Growing Cold
The music never seemed to stop as Nyrielle and Ashlynn lost themselves in the dance. White and black skirts swirled around each other and they held each other close enough to feel the other woman’s heartbeat clearly.
The familiar scent of lavender soap mingled with something warmer, the rich scent of cedar mixed with green, growing things that seemed to almost permeate Ashlynn’s skin ever since she began to draw on her power as a witch. As they danced, the fragrance grew stronger, awakening a hunger that Nyrielle briefly struggled to control.
As they danced, Nyrielle’s cool hands found the bare skin of Ashlynn’s shoulders, tracing gentle patterns from soft shoulders to delicate neck and then lower, to rest just above Ashlynn’s beating heart. The music slowed and Ashlynn’s warm fingers played with the lace at Nyrielle’s waist, tugging as if she was seeking a way to reach the cool skin beneath the dark dress.
Each turn around the dance floor brought them closer together until Ashlynn’s cheek rested against Nyrielle’s collarbone, her breath warming Nyrielle’s skin through the thin fabric of her gown.
It was a moment that had never happened, one that could never happen, but at the moment, Nyrielle let herself go completely, drifting in the illusion that her parents and grandsire were watching her dance with her darling Ashlynn.
At some point, the music faded away, becoming muffled and indistinct as though the musicians were playing from a different room. The Ashlynn in Nyrielle’s arms grew cold, her body first matching Nyrielle’s normal corpse-like chill and then growing colder still until Nyrielle felt like she was dancing with a block of ice.
"Ashlynn, what’s happening to you?" Nyrielle asked, searching the shorter woman’s emerald eyes for answers.
"I’m sorry," Ashlynn said, her slippered feet splashing through icy water that covered the dance floor. "I’m sorry..."
"Ashlynn, Ashlynn, what..." Before Nyrielle could ask any other questions, the woman in her arms faded away, vanishing in a cold mist that evaporated like fog in a strong wind.
"No, no, no, something is very, very wrong," Nyrielle said.
In her daybed, Nyrielle forced her midnight blue eyes open, fumbling at the locks that kept her secure from anyone who would drag her into the sun while she lay helpless and asleep.
Even though she was far underground in the Frost Walker’s forest, she could feel the burning sun pressing down on her, sapping her strength and compelling her to sink back into dreams that were memories of times long passed.