Talia still wasn’t sure how the lord of winter, aka Alek, had talked her into taking him to her favorite bar when she’d been going there to get away from him so she could think.

Now he was right next to her, sucking down a week’s worth of pay in drinks, exclaiming over how different they were than anything he’d tasted.

She couldn’t keep back a smile at the ruddiness of his cheeks as he grew more and more intoxicated. If she thought about it, he probably needed the break as much as she did.

Her hours of Googling and frantically trying to message her mentor (while keeping things vague) had produced nothing, and she still had no idea how to proceed. It was her very staid, logical demeanor that kept her moving forward at times like this, when most people would either be calling the police or collapsing.

But she didn’t want to call the police. Not at all. If they came, they might take Alek. He might end up locked in a mental hospital, trapped. Plus, he was their discovery, and she didn’t want him carted off to some other lab either. What if they mistreated him?

She looked over at the handsome man as he downed a tall beer and pounded the counter for another, making other glasses shake. He drew a few curious glances, what with his extreme handsomeness and exotic long hair, but most people seemed too afraid to approach him.

Who was this man, really, and how could she keep him safe and undiscovered while she waited for her mentor to come back?

She took a sip of her hard cider and set her glass down thoughtfully, turning to Alek. “So do you still remember nothing?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “Bits and pieces have been coming in. It’s odd, though. Some things I remember, and others… cause an odd pain in my head. Like I’m forgetting something important. Then again, I was in that ice a long time. I still want to find out how I got there.”

“Me as well, but it might take some time to make any headway on it.” She looked at his glass. “Seems like you like the beer here.”

“I do.” He nodded eagerly. “It is a fitting tribute from a vassal.”

She smiled, still not knowing if she should be amused or offended that he considered her a servant. How long ago was he from? How long had he lived before going in the ice? And had he really been a ruler back then? She knew that delusions of grandeur were a common form of psychosis, but could they be triggered by long-term cryosleep? She’d looked up everything she could online but simply couldn’t find another case like him.

Only rumors of things too improbable to be believed. Ancient beings or monsters being awakened after sleep.

Myths, obviously.

So what was he?

He set down his glass and looked forward wistfully, clearly seeing something other than the bar in his mind. “I remember a land covered in snow, so white it felt like clouds had descended on Earth. It was heaven.”

“That’s awesome.”

He nodded. “I remember long nights talking with Luka and Dmitri, making plans, killing time. Though, I don’t remember why.” He rubbed his forehead. “It’s killing me not to be able to put the pieces together.”

She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him then and rested a hand on his arm. Maybe it was just the alcohol in both of them or the odd situation they were sharing together, but he felt so much more approachable right now.

Instead of spouting off about being lord of winter, he seemed more real, more himself, whoever that was.

She smiled to herself, acknowledging she barely knew him and should probably keep it that way, except for scientific requests.

Would he one day be just another discovery, like the bog man or King Tut? Would it put her on the map?

Though such discoveries were what every scientist wanted, the fact that he was a living, breathing person with feelings made things hard.

She drummed her fingers on the bar, feeling torn. Perhaps she should just tell him to run for it before the world could get their hands on him or his friends. But then again, he didn’t understand this world. How would he survive in it?

She glared suspiciously at her empty glass of cider. Alcohol always made her a little too pensive.

The lord of winter looked at her then, curiously, as if trying to read her thoughts, just as the door to the bar swung open and cold wind blew inside.

She groaned as she looked up at the group coming in. The football team. At first, she’d been hopeful for a distraction, but she definitely didn’t want this one.

Most of the guys were too busy high-fiving each other and saying hi to other students at the bar to notice her at the counter, but she could feel one pair of undesirable eyes following her closely.

The assistant coach, Martin, had done his undergrad with her, and when they’d had classes together, he’d never been able to leave her alone.

He was a jock—always had been—and a bully, and as he made his way toward her, it appeared he would never give up.

She swung on her stool to face him, hoping to appear bored. She didn’t need him making a scene with Alek. If she let him get off his usual moronic and sexist remark, she could probably get back to her evening without much trouble.

“Hey, lab rat,” Martin said, brushing back his ugly red hair from his starting-to-recede hairline. He was tall and still muscled from his football days but gaining a bit of a paunch. Not that she judged him because she carried a little extra weight as well, but since he’d called her fatty-two-by-four all through her undergrad, she thought she had a right to.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get it over with, Martin,” she muttered, feeling Alek’s eyes on her intently. Hopefully, if she acted like this was nothing, he would sense nothing as well.

Martin looked slightly surprised by her bluntness but then drew himself up to full height, a flush on his cheeks emphasizing his freckles. “Heard you’ve been hiring some company.” He leered over at Alek mockingly. “If you wanted some top D to suck, you just had to ask.”

Her jaw dropped. He’d never been that… offensive. “I…” She didn’t really even have a retort for him, as the cider had made her brain a bit slow. She heard Alek stir beside her and put out a hand to try and block his way as he stood.

When Alek was at his full height, he glared down at Martin, who was shorter by a couple inches.

“What need do you have with my… with Talia?” He flushed slightly, swayed due to his drunkenness, but still managed to stay on his feet, looking fierce.

She couldn’t help gaping up at him in admiration for a moment. Despite everything, he really was handsome. And in the days she’d known him, he’d never been gross like the men in her world.

He was conceited, yes, and sort of delusional, but he’d never think of telling anyone to suck his dick. She’d bet that about him at least.

“Who are you? Her hired whore?” Martin spat, though he took a half step back.

“What is the D you would like her to suck?” Alek said in a low voice. “I’m not familiar with it, but if it is any kind of poisonous substance, I will have to ask you to leave.”

Martin snorted. “Is this guy for real?” He leaned into Talia as if to make his meaning clearer. “I meant my dick, doofus.”

Alek’s eyes flashed only for a moment, and then his hand lashed out in a fist so quickly that Talia could barely see it.

The next second, Martin was flying, spinning until he hit a table behind him, crashing down on top of it with a thud.

He let out a groan as his players rushed over to him.

“What are you doing hitting an old guy?” one of the players, who looked to be a freshman, asked as Alek shook his hand fiercely, looking like he wanted to take Martin apart.

Talia got up to stand between them. “Look, guys, come on. Martin was rude, but he isn’t that hurt and—”

“What makes you think you can hit our coach?” one of the linebackers said, walking up to stand toe to toe with Alek, as Alek pushed Talia behind him with one smooth motion.

“He was rude to my… to Talia,” Alek grated out. “And I’ll take out anyone who does more of the same.” He stared at Martin, who was slowly recovering. “Besides, he isn’t… old.”

Talia would have guessed that Alek and Martin were both in their mid-to-late twenties, but with a lot of drinking and smoking, Martin definitely hadn’t aged well. He had to be close to her age but didn’t look it.

“Yeah, why don’t you fight someone your own size?” The linebacker stepped up, cracking his knuckles.

Alek let out a snarl, not appearing to be at all intimidated. One thing she’d seen about him was that he didn’t seem at all averse to confrontation, whether physical or verbal.

“Wait,” the bartender said, stepping forward. “You can’t just fight in here.” The smaller man looked too afraid to say much to the football team but also terrified for his bar.

Alek nodded. “Very well, then. We will settle it with whatever feats of strength you use in your country. If I best all of you, you must go.”

The quarterback stepped forward, cracking his neck side to side. “Fine then. I’ll go first.” He took a seat at a table, then extended his over the wooden surface, hand up. “I choose arm wrestling.”

“Alek, you don’t have to do this,” she said, stepping in front of him. “We can just go home.”

“I won’t let anyone insult you,” he said firmly, taking a seat across from the quarterback. “Now someone explain to me the rules.”

Talia let out a sigh as she took her seat back at the bar, just a few feet from Alek. If she couldn’t stop this, if she had to watch it, she was going to need another drink.

She tapped on the bar for another cider, hoping the only thing damaged on the lord of winter tonight was his pride.