"I would freeze before I let you freeze, Theta."
Zina couldn't deny that she liked the way Daemon called her title. Eldric called her Theta like it was some job beneath him which he could easily crush, but Daemon called her Theta like she was the embodiment of all things lost and chaotic.
And maybe it shouldn't be, but Zina found the manner the word rolled off his lips to be a great turn on.
No, everything at that moment seemed like a turn on. The brush of the ice against her skin, the cold water soaking her bones, Daemon seemingly behind her and yet too far away as he refused her relief of grinding her core against him. His hands rooting her in place, disallowing her from moving further in any wanton manner as her body soaked up the ice.
Everything turned her on.
Even the small whisper of the northern wind. And Daemon's steady breath that lightly brushed against her shoulders.