64 | THE HEROES AND VILLAINS THAT MAKE US

WINTERFELL was one of the first people to arrive back at the school. The girl did not waste any time pulling her clothing off as well as washing the makeup off her face. She traded the uncomfortable gown for a pair of denim jeans, a large comfortable sweater, and sand shoes.

Her hair was loose as she ripped through the library, specifically in the section of villains, looking for one particular name.

Helga Sinclair.

The name whirled throughout her mind as she allowed her fingers to graze over the backs of many books, each holding long and winding tales and histories of every villain that ever was.

The Auradon Prep library was enormous, after all, once upon a time it once a gift from King Adam to Queen Belle. Back when their own story was still unfolding and King Adam was but a cursed beast.

The library has grown immensely since then. Section after section — row upon row of books of all forms and conditions. Some books were older than the castle itself while some were so new they had yet to even been read.

The library had many different sections — a history section that held a row of stories of the heroes, another row for royalty, another row for mystical tales, another of legends... but Winter stood in the darkest row.

The area was shrouded in shadows with books that were anything but colorful. Winter was anything but afraid... well that was a bit of a lie as she was slightly scared of the darkness now... but she had visited this row in the library so many times that the fear was small.

Histories intrigued her, and admittedly, she was always slightly more intrigued by the villain's tale rather than the heroes.

Her figure stopped, her long hair whispy and falling down her back. Had she been short, then her hair would be long enough to fall to her waist. Thankfully, she was not short but rather her lean and tallish figure allowed for her hair to stop mid-back.

Her fingers ghosted over a particular book, a dark book with a spine that was falling apart.

She began to shake lightly, but she still grabbed hold of the book — a history that she had never dared to touch in fear.

His laughter rang in her head once more — her screams echoing.

Swallowing back her fear, Winterfell made a choice. Seeing as Wenlock was officially back, she had to do this. Grasping the book, she pulled it free causing dust to billow around. That in itself was a sign that this book had not been touched for ages.

The book was simple, it was black with a title woven on the front in dark brown lettering.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓 𝖂𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖗𝖉

Winterfell was smart, so smart that she had known from day one exactly who the fallen wizard was. Wenlock was known by many names throughout the lands — the Fallen Wizard being one of them.

She did not dare open the story as her own trauma continued to echo in her mind, the girl shoving it in her bag. Perhaps later, when she was in the comfort of her own room by herself would she choose to open the book.

Winterfell had already decided that she had to know the full facts of his history. She knew most of it but this book would ensure that she was entirely aware of the threat that presented itself to her.

Shaking herself out of it, she continued through the row — her eyes lighting up when she found the book she was looking for. Another black book, but as she pulled it free the words were stitched in a white leathering.

Almost elegantly were the words:

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫
𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

Winter tilted her head. It was interesting that Helga Sinclair adorned the colors of black and white while Captain Hook was known for his choice of black and red.

Helga's book was not falling apart nor did it look beat up. In fact, it was rather clean.

Whirling around, Winter excitedly made her way to the back sitting section of the library. The section that she would often tutor Harry at as there was rarely anyone else there to distract them.

The library was not busy as people were too focused on the Court that had been taking place, not to mention all those coming back would no doubt be hungry and head straight to the eating hall.

Winterfell managed to leave earlier than anyone else as she had walked her mother back to the car which was to take her to the ocean where Elsa would then ride the Nokk back to Ahtohallan.

Winter left right after, not even bothering to go back to where the others Kings and Queens were as she did not feel like dealing with that mess.

Ben totally had that.

Taking a seat, Winter wasted no time cracking open the book. She was surprised she had not yet read this tale.

Immediately, on the first page was once again the title in simple lettering.

Turning the page, the second one was enchanted with a moving picture of Helga Sinclair in her prime time.

She was as beautiful as Winterfell had presumed, and it was true — Harry did have her eyes. Not to mention, CJ Hook actually did resemble Helga Sinclair very much.

Winter loved the enchanted pictures in many of the tales, not all of them were enchanted, rather only the ones where pictures had originally been taken before. And Helga Sinclair, ever the bombshell of a woman, appeared to have had many photos taken of her in her time.

The text started immediately below the enchanted picture.

As the only girl and the oldest of six children, Miss Sinclair grew up fighting with her fists as well as her wits...

Winter lost track of time as she read through the daring tale of Helga Sinclair. Stories of the woman's achievements (and she had plenty), her proficiency within the combat arts and anything athletic, her smarts, and her journey within the army.

Winter bit her lip as she was near the end of the book already — Helga along with a band of others discovered the Lost Empire of Atlantis. Everything had gone to shit, greed was running throughout many of their veins, and it was all coming to a grand finale in the form of a hot-air balloon fight.

SLAM!

Winterfell jumped as a sudden force slammed on the table in front of her, the girl's doe eyes wide as she looked up only to come nose-to-nose with Harry Hook. The pirate was adorned in his full pirate wear, tri-corn hat sitting proudly atop his head and red coat looking brighter than hell itself.

Her cheeks flushed at their close proximity, the girl recoiling back only for Harry to immediately stop her by gently gripping her chin to keep her in place.

He tsked in mock disappointment and Winterfell (sadly) responded with a rush of excitement that swept straight down to her abdomen. Can you blame her? Harry Hook looked sexy as hell and the way that his blue eyes were piercing her did not help in the matter!

"No, no — princess, yeh not goin' anywhere..." his breath fanned her face, his voice quiet as he stared at her in amusement. "Now, when were yeh planning on tellin' me 'bout that heavenly name of yours?" He hummed.

Her face turned even brighter, the red sticking out not unlike a tomato to her pale skin.

"Harry..." Winter said bashfully, looking anywhere but into those ocean eyes.

"Now, remember when yeh teased me at the beginning of the year?" Harry's face had somehow got even closer. "Yeh wouldnae stop callin' meh Harold?"

"Did you know that mermaids can live to be hundreds of years old?" Winter suddenly found herself squeaking.

It seemed like forever since Harry had been able to make his duckling so nervous that she was spouting random facts. And he loved it — his body was set ablaze with passion.

Harry chuckled. "Surprisingly I did know that Winterfell..." her name fell from his lips alike a hymn.

The way that the name rolled off his accented tongue. At first, Winter had thought Harry Hook spoke with a Scottish accent. And in a sense, he did. However, it was not an actual Scottish accent as opposed to simple pirate speak.

Winter was dead. Yep, Harry had single-handedly managed to kill the girl with his words. Words that sent fire surging through every inch of her body.

She could not stop herself. It was like they were magnets. Winter could not stop herself from rushing forward and capturing Harry's lips with her own desperately. It was messy and sloppy, and Harry was actually taken off guard at first.

Winter retracted as his fingers fell from their tight grasp on her chin in shock.

Her eyes were huge as she moved away — and in Harry's opinion — much too innocent for what the princess had just done. Harry's eyes darted to the way her tongue swiped her bottom lip; the girl loved the way Harry tasted.

Like cinnamon and something spicy.

Harry growled, and he bent down and swooped the princess in his arms. He crashed his lips to hers once again, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth and swiping it so as to not miss a single area of her sweetness.

Harry knew the girl loved chocolate more than anything to snack on, so it was not a surprise that she nearly always tasted of either the sweetest of chocolates or sometimes fruit. Either way, it was never unpleasant and it always had Harry wanting more.

The pirate wanted to devour the princess.

He pressed her body against his own. She was skinny but she still had curves, and the way that her lower half was pushing into him was making Harry think sinful things.

He had to have her. He had to have her. He had to have her.

Winter was not adept in the art of kissing. Her first kiss had been under the influence of a powerful love potion with Jay of all people. Unfortunately, she and he had kissed quite a bit within the 24 hours they were spelled — and even as they were under a spell, it was enough to build Winter's skill.

She was a quick learner, especially when she had read so many romance novels that each explored kissing in its own virtue. If Harry did not know any better, he would have thought Winter was a pro.

Alas, his duckling thought she was being sneaky with her favorite book, but Harry was nosy and he was raised on the Isle. Being sneaky was in a pirate's nature, it did not take him long to realize exactly the type of romance books that Winterfell read.

He was still debating on the best time to begin teasing her about her love for erotic romance novels — and then right after he would ask her if she'd like to try it out in real life.

Harry groaned against her mouth, grasping the back of her head while Winter clasped the lapels of his coat as though her lifelines. This makeout session was becoming a little too intense to be seen in public, one might think the next step would be the couple ripping each other's clothes off.

Winter whimpered in response, something that had Harry hiking her up and placing her perky bottom on the table she had been sitting at.

Harry had no words when Winterfell first came out to the court meeting.

The pirate never forgot that Winterfell was a princess, that she was true royalty, he would not be able to if he tried. But at times it was especially easy to overlook — the times they spent with her tutoring him in the library, the footsie games they played in class, and as of recently, the late-night cuddle sessions. All of these times that made her Royal blood easy to overlook.

But at that moment, when Winter had waltzed to her spot with her head held high and face emotionless — well she did not look like a princess. No, she looked like a queen. And Harry would kill anyone who dare look at his queen the wrong way.

But there was still a few things that Harry wanted to have a proper word with Winter about. Things that involved Ben and Winter being somewhat betrothed once upon a time.

Just as Harry began sucking on her tongue, Winter wholeheartedly allowing him — a clearing of a throat was heard.

Winter did not waste any time in literally pushing Harry away, the pirate grunting in irritation as he spun around to see who had interrupted them. They had kissed plenty of times at this point, but no stolen kisses had ever turned quite as passionate as that one.

The two were greeted by the librarian — the older male looking quite unimpressed with the display he had wandered upon while placing the books back in the designated spots.

Winter gasped and immediately scrambled off the table, fixing her rumpled clothing in the process. The librarian continued to stare as Winter brushed her hair behind her ears.

Why had she not put it up in a bun like she normally would have?!

Harry only grinned wolfishly, his eyes darting back and forth between his flustered girl and the librarian. Seeing as they were still untitled, Harry had simply taken to calling Winter "his girl" when it was brought into question.

And she had the marks to prove it.

"Miss Frost and Mr. Hook," the librarian pinched the bridge of his nose while shaking his head, "this is a library, not a hotel room, not many people appreciate seeing such defilement in a public place meant for focus..." he lectured in a bored albeit disappointed manner.

A pit opened within Winter's chest, the girl looking down shamefully.

"Of course, sir — I'm so sorry, sir..." she rushed quietly and Harry was looking back at her with pursed lips.

The blush that currently sat on Winter's face was not one from being flushed but rather one of shame. It did not sit right with Harry to see such a thing, especially seeing how Winter had held herself just hours beforehand.

The librarian nodded before walking off once more leaving the two in privacy.

Harry was back in front of her in seconds, forcing her gaze to look up at him.

"Ain't yah ever need to be sorry for affection," he stole one last kiss before pulling away, "there can't never be enough affection to go around in 'tis world..."

Winter found herself once again pulled into a trance, but before she could restart what they had yet to finish, she cleared her throat and turned away.

"Look what I found," she said, shaking her head of all improper thoughts.

He did not accept her attempt at changing the subject.

Harry leaned in close, his lips near her ear, "I'll be making sure tha' we finish this later this time 'round, snowie..." and with that lasting sentence he bit her earlobe and goosebumps broke out all along Winter's arms.

Clearing her throat, she quickly picked up the book and whirled around taking two steps away from the pirate. Harry quirked an amused brow, thinking she was trying to play a game with him. But everyone knows that you do not play with the pirate.

He took a step forward, ready to close the distance and trap her, but then Winter started reading and it washed all thoughts away from his mind.

"As the only girl and the oldest of six children, Miss Sinclair grew up fighting with her fists as well as her wits..." Winterfell started, her lips moving to form a smirk as Harry froze, his eyes wide.

She laughed as Harry stepped forward for a different reason, the pirate all but yanking the book out of Winter's hands and reading the title.

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫
𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

"Has this been in here the whole time?" Harry questioned with wide eyes, staring back at the Princess.

"Uh, yeah? I told you the library had—"

"A wide collection of stories and histories and everything in between," Harry finished for her playfully, already knowing exactly what she was going to say.

Winter scoffed before sitting in the spot she was in before, "whatever Harry..." she shook her head just as Harry took a seat next to her and began reading through the story.

That was how the next few hours passed — with Winter doing her homework and Harry reading about his mother. Small games of footsie and stolen kisses passed the time. Also, a short conversation with Harry talking about how Winter was just a taller version of her mother.

Winter had scoffed saying something along the lines of, "Wait till you see my dad."

And the truth was that Harry could not wait — he was indeed excited. He had heard stories of the legendary trickster Jack Frost.

The Winter King.

Harry may be from the Isle, but even he realized that if he wanted any sort of real future with his soul mate then he better be able to win over her father.

Speaking of fathers — Harry, after reading about his mother, was not surprised that his father was attracted to her. Helga had been a smart and strong woman, and Harry was sad to have never been able to meet her properly but he admired her nonetheless.

It was a few hours later when Winter finally began to put her stuff away and Harry finished the story.

"We headin' teh dinner now?" Harry questioned just as his stomach gave a growl and Winter laughed at him.

Harry rolled his eyes at her laughter but smirked before snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a heated kiss. Winter smiled against the kiss — she decided that kissing Harry was her new favorite pastime.

"Yeah, you go on — I'll put the book back, and then I'm going to stop by my room to put my homework away..." Winter said while Harry shook his head.

"Let me come..." he mumbled, leaving a small kiss on her neck before pulling away.

Winter shivered in response, smiling up at him.

"No, you're hungry — go and eat. And make me a plate if you don't mind," Winter added as an afterthought to hopefully persuade him easier.

Harry shrugged in response, he seemed okay with that.

"Mmm, whatcha want me to get you... and don't say chocolate — yeh need real food, snowie," he kissed her cheek at the end and Winter turned red from embarrassment.

Harry chuckled as her face turned red — a sharp contrast from her fair features and hair.

She pouted at him and sighed, "Fine, get me a soup then..."

"Aye, don't pout," Harry teased her playfully, his own wild smile adorning his face.

"Goodbye, Harry," Winter said with a smile before beginning to walk toward the villain section.

Harry laughed before trotting away, heading toward the Auradon Prep dining hall.

Winterfell quickly put the book back before packing the rest of her things and leaving the library. It was already dark outside with the moon bright in the sky. Winter smiled up at the Man in the Moon — the first Guardian smiling back at her.

The air was crisp and cold, the snow glowing brightly on the ground. Many students were wandering around and enjoying the holiday season — Winter basked in this as she continued her trip to her dorm room.

It did not take her long to drop off her school bag before she was walking to dinner. She pondered a few things as she strolled along, namely what type of dance she and Harry would do.

Harry... her heart fluttered at the thought of him. She loved him so much, more than she thought possible with anyone. Winterfell could not even hope to put into words how much she loved that she could now kiss him whenever she wanted.

Kisses... Harry was a great kisser. His lips were plump and warm, and his hands were so big... and he was so strong...

Winter stopped in her walking, closing her eyes with a small "shit" as she realized where her thoughts were beginning to drift. It wasn't hard seeing as to what they had been up to earlier.

There was also the dream she had of him (courtesy of Cupid) a few days ago.

She was suddenly uncomfortably hot.

Her thoughts turned into a train that was sent crashing... her cheeks flushing. Her appetite for food was gone in an instant. Rather, she was hungry for something else.

She was only a girl AKA Winter was horny, okay! And Harry Hook—or at least the thought of him—was certainly not helping. Not when he was so attractive that it should be illegal.

The worst thing she could do was walk into the dinner hall like this. If Harry did not sniff out something being up with her, Jonah certainly would, and that was a bridge that she never intended to cross.

Seeing his boner the morning after they woke up from Cupid's dreams had been more than she ever wanted to see from him.

With that last thought, Winter was turning around and walking right back to her dorm room. If she got hungry then she would just eat some of the little snacks she hid under her bed.

As soon as she was in her room, closing and locking the door behind her, she was sending a text to her friends with some stupid excuse as to why she would not be at dinner. She made sure to add that she had food in her room that she would be eating so that none of them came pounding at her door.

Because if they pulled up, it would be a more than embarrassing interaction with what she planned to do for the next half-hour at least.

Winter only prayed that Wenlock did not attempt to attack her in that time frame because that would be a whole other can of worms that never needed to be opened.