And I think about how unlucky everyone around me would be if I had dragons.
I would burn them all at the slightest provocation.
Actually, scratch that.
I’d make them wait until they thought they’d gotten away with it.
Then I’d burn them.
Honestly, I should be allowed to own a dragon.
“Artemis?”
Stevie’s voice drags me back to reality.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what, exactly? Flying me across the world with absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be doing?”
“Yeah, I—”
“For sending me to an isolated mountain where I could very well be walking to my death?”
“Okay. No. I would never—”
“There is no one here, Stevie.”
A beat passes.
Then she says, “Technically, that’s a pretty nice problem to have.”
I close my eyes.
“Stevie.”
“You know, it's actually the perfect setup for a winter romance. Have you considered writing one? Or maybe you could take notes and work on a story with Poe. I'd absolutely read a book about a gorgeous, emotionally unavailable figure-skating sensation who gets stranded in a snowy mansion and falls in love with some ridiculously handsome, emotionally constipated man.”
I stare at the mountains and take a deep breath.
“Stevie.”
“Maybe he’s a billionaire. Or a musician. Oh! A grumpy rapper who secretly—”
Nope.
I disconnect.
Immediately.
My phone starts ringing again.
I ignore it.
For the sake of her health, my sanity, and our friendship, Stevie is officially going on a timeout.
I slip my phone into my pocket and turn back toward the estate.
Another chill runs down my back.