Wind rustled the ice leaves. Cassie shivered, and the sun continued to circle the horizon.

You know me. Clutching the sheets to her chin, Cassie listened to him breathe. She felt a tight ache inside her chest. Did she know him? She’d thought she did. But now… Had he truly used her, or was it all a misunderstanding, as he’d said? Was he the man she thought he was? Was he a man at all?

Loud, her heart beat staccato as she knelt on the mattress. She cupped her hand over the flashlight. She had a right to know who he truly was and what was inside her, didn’t she?

She switched on the light. Her hand, covering the beam, glowed pink. Bear was now a shape in the semidarkness. She saw his chest rise and fall. Gathering her courage, she pointed the flashlight toward the ceiling and removed her hand. The beam hit the ice canopy, and light reflected in a thousand directions. Rainbows swirled over the bed.

And she saw Bear.

Like a polar bear, his skin was black and his hair was creamy white. The flashlight shook in her hand, and the beam danced over his muscles. He was beautiful, as perfect and as ageless as a Michelangelo statue. Looking at him, she could not breathe.

He looked like an angel, or a god.

She wanted to touch him and feel his familiar skin and know this godlike creature was her Bear. Now that she had her wish, she didn’t know what it meant that he was so beautiful. Seeing him did not answer anything.

She wanted to breathe him in and swallow him whole. She wanted to wrap herself around him. She wanted to feel he was real with every inch of her skin. Leaning over him, she brushed his lips with hers. Bear opened his eyes. “Cassie, no!”

Cassie dropped the flashlight. It hit her thigh and fell to the floor. Shadows spread across Bear, the bed, and the room. “Ow! Bear, don’t do that!”

From the floor, the flashlight cast giant shadows on the ice walls. Bear’s shadow stretched as he pulled himself to full height. Instinctively, she flinched. He looked like an angry god. “I told you never to look at me. You should have trusted me!”

Rising to her knees, she put her hands on her hips. “Trust you?”

As quickly as it had come, the anger seemed to drain out of him. He sank down on the bed and put his face in his hands. “Oh, Cassie.”

Disconcerted, she opened and shut her mouth. He seemed truly upset. But what was so terrible about her looking at him? He was beautiful. He was perfect.

“Cassie, my Cassie.” He raised his head. He looked like he was going to cry. What was wrong? He cupped her cheek in his palm. The look in his eyes… Wow, she was looking into his eyes. His human eyes. His hand was warm and soft on her cheek.

“Bear?” she said uncertainly. She didn’t like the look in his eyes, that lost look.

She felt mist touch her skin. She brushed her arm automatically, but it was dry. He released her face and took her hand. He ran his thumb over her fingers, pausing on her ring finger. “I have to leave you now,” he said.

He had to what?

Clearly, she’d heard him wrong. She looked at his expression, and she felt her heart squeeze. She hadn’t heard him wrong. She started to shake her head. He couldn’t leave!

“Please, listen, Cassie,” he said before she could speak. “It was the bargain to free your mother. You could never see my human face. Or know the reason why you could not. Cassie, it was the only way to free your mother. It was the only way to marry you.”

“You and your stupid bargains.” She tried to sound cold and angry but her voice betrayed her. “Did you expect me to be telepathic?” She was blinking furiously now. Oh, God, what had he promised? What had he risked? What had she done?

Bear said as if quoting something, “All ties between us are snapped, and I must marry the troll princess.”

She shook his shoulders. “You are not leaving,” she said. She was crying. She knew it and she couldn’t stop it. This was absurd. Troll princess! “I will not let the trolls take you.”

“That’s my Cassie.” He buried his fingers in her hair. “But you cannot fight this. I must keep my promise. It is the price of being a munaqsri.” She heard rustling like wind in leaves.

“You are not leaving,” she said even more fiercely.

He pressed his lips on her forehead. “Take care of our baby.”

“I’m not letting you go.” The false wind snapped her hair. It whooshed between them and circled around them.

“No choice,” he said. “It has already begun.”

Dammit, no! She was not losing him! “Then I’m coming with you!”

“You cannot.”

“Then I’ll follow!”

He shook his head sadly. “I will be taken to the castle that is east of the sun and west of the moon. You cannot follow me there. It is beyond the ends of the earth.”

“I’ll find you.” Sheets fluttered around them like breaking waves.

Bear gripped her. “No! It is too dangerous.”

“Not for me,” she said. “I find polar bears, remember? It’s what I do.” She’d chased him once; she’d chase him again.

The tide of wind was a roar, and Bear had to shout, “You will die before you reach it! Promise me you will not try!”

“I will find you!” She was not losing him. Not now, not like this.

Swarming faster, the water-wind swept Bear off the bed. He hung in the air like an angel ascending. “If you love me, let me go. Please, Cassie, keep yourself safe, keep our baby safe.”

She jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around his waist. “No!”

“Cassie, promise me! Think of the baby!”

She didn’t want a baby; she wanted him! She couldn’t lose him! Pulled upward, he slipped through her arms. She squeezed his knees as the wind lifted him higher. His head reached the canopy, and the ice melted around him like meringue. His shoulders passed through it, then his chest, his waist, his thighs. Cassie’s head hit the canopy—solid. “No! Come back!” His knees slipped through her arms. She clutched his ankles. “No!”

He disappeared through the canopy, and Cassie fell. She bounced on the silken sheets, and her head smacked backward into the bedpost.

Everything went black.

PART 2

East of the Sun and West of the Moon

CHAPTER 15

Latitude 91° 00’ 00” N

Longitude indeterminate

Altitude 15 ft.

Cassie woke cold. Shivering on the silken sheets, she massaged the lump on the back of her skull. For several seconds, she wondered why she had slept on top of the sheets, why she was cold, and why her head ached. Then she heard the dripping.

She leaned down from the bed and picked her flashlight up off the floor, then shined it on the bedpost. The post glistened with a fresh sheen of water. Droplets ran down the spiral. The canopy dripped as if it were crying. It cannot melt. Not so long as I am here.

Bear was gone.

The bed was melting.

“Oh, no,” she said.

Cassie vaulted out of bed; her bare feet hit ice. Cold shot up her legs, and she grabbed the bedpost. It was a wet icicle. She snatched her hand back. Cold! She ran to her pack and shed her nightshirt. Limp on the floor, the silk soaked in meltwater. Cassie bundled on flannels and wools. She could have woken with hypothermia. She could have woken with hypothermia and a concussion. I could have not woken at all, she thought.

She heard a sudden snap like a rifle shot—the snap of cracked ice. That sounded like it came from a wall, she thought. And then she heard a sound like a thousand windows breaking.

Oh, God, it wasn’t just the bedroom that was melting. It was the castle. The castle was melting. She had to get out of here—out of the bedroom, out of the castle, out into the Arctic.

Out into the Arctic, but… She didn’t have a choice, she told herself. She had to leave now. Heart thudding faster, she pulled on her full gear: parka, mukluks, gaiters. She’d kept her pack prepared for her trips with Bear, so it took only a few precious seconds to lift the pack onto her back—but with each second, the shotgun sound of cracking ice crescendoed. Securing the pack, she hurried into the hall.