Todos los capítulos de Jack Frost's Bride: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Baba Yaga was aback her mortar and pestle with her witch-daughter Morena, the wind-wild goddess with a body like a birch.  Morena flew aback a broom in a red velvet cloak and black rags of a dress.  They were flying as fast as an eagle over the Caucasus Mountains, sending their flocks of crows and owls to harvest ingredients: poisonous herbs and dwarven treasures, alongside a fair amount of children’s first breaths and mother’s last words.  This spell would be one in a long line against Chernobog, the Black God, who longed to unseat Morena and her consort Jarilo from the heavens and spread sterile, cold perfection with the infection of his cursed deathless lands upon Buyan.  Nature abhors a vacuum, but vacuums abhor nature, and Chernobog was the void that ate all he drained of blood and left his victims cold and lifeless. Russia was both light and dark, poison and honey, and black Morena was the queen of immortals.  Passionate but feral, she

Centuries passed, but Buyan stayed the same.  Morozko settled into tending the banya and thought of Dmitri as his father and the staff as his brothers and sisters.  He delighted in Dmitri’s annual councils with his leshy noblemen and the celebrations in the village that followed.  He would chase after vila warrior women and flirtatious, dangerous rusalka on St. John’s Eve, searching for fern flowers that would lead to an evening of lovemaking.  Many times he sat with Dmitri in the kitchen by the woodstove on rainy evenings and read from Dmitri’s collection of human literature. Baba Yaga watched, waited, and smoked her perpetual pipe.  She took Morozko under her hoary wing to become the babushka he never had.It could have been today or tomorrow when Morozko got the letter of a present to deliver.  Perhaps a package just like Ded Moroz and Snegurochka carried on the winter holidays.  He had not forgotten his wor

Elizaveta waited with bated breath for Dmitri's decision.  “I could feed her, Dima.  I am sure she is so small she could survive off kitchen scraps and my milk.”“Curse that witch.”  Dmitri appraised Anya then sighed, weighing his cudgel in his hands.A wolf whined, wanting to be petted.  Dmitri obliged.  “I guess we should keep her then, or we will invoke babushka’s black magick.  What Baba Yaga wants with this child I cannot imagine.”“Oh Dima,” Elizaveta said, embracing Dmitri.  “Do not worry.  I will braid fern flowers into her hair on Ivan Kupalo and love Anya with all my gills.  I will keep her out of your way.  It will be like she does not exist.”“No,” Dmitri said.  “She is our child now.  I will treat Anya as I would any child of my forests.  Bring her here.  I will bless her with the spirit of

Anya continued, pointing at the leshy.  “Da?”Dmitri paled beneath his bluish skin.  “Did she just call me father?”“Da da doo da.”“Sweet Mokosh, I need a drink,” Dmitri said.  He rubbed his temple.  “I have never had a child before.  Sure, I have imagined what it would be like, but… but… oh, just look at her.  She is irresistible.  I have never stolen a human like Vladimir does his wood wives but now I know why.  They are too precious to bear!”“We have no mortal mistress,” Iosif said, his voice hallowed.  “She is a witch, an enchantress, a Circe or Medea, but encapsulated in a miniature form.”“I doubt she is a witch, just precocious,” Morozko snorted, smoothing Anya’s damp bark curls.“Ozya!” Anya cried.  She continued to babble, toying with Morozko

If there was a curse upon Anya, it seemed to work in reverse.  The more she grew, the more her adoptive family fell in love with the preternatural child.  Elizaveta carried her in a sling on her back, twirling around with a mop as she sung lullabies to the child who burbled along like a songbird.  Liliya had to be dissuaded by Dmitri from beginning training the small girl on bow and arrow.  She could not yet walk, just play with blocks and crawl around the inn like a missile headed straight for disaster.  Iosif was never not slipping Anya freshly pared fruit slices or spoonful’s of apple sauce.  And Morozko?  He played and played with her, tucking her in each night as he sang a glimmering winter lullaby.Frost's kiss on the ground melted.  Dmitri began taking Anya on his sojourns through the woods as the weather warmed.  Seasons turned as Mother Mokosh woke from her winter hibernation at the base of the Tree of Life.  Dm