He cursed the day he was born in the snowy wastes of Ded Moroz’s kingdom, quite uncomfortable, and appraised her.

Morozko wanted to tell her that the dress made her look deadly.  She was a witch, he realized, enchanting and terribly beautiful, so far from the girl he knew.  He had the strangest attraction and repulsion at the exact same time and felt quite ill, like a vicious hangover from a night spent flirting at a bar.

Morozko was, in a word, lost.

“Well, Kolya?”  Anya looked at her feet, embarrassed.

“This boy will lose his heart to you,” Morozko finally said.  “And you will swallow him whole.”

Anya laughed...