Chapter 28: Journey to the Frost Peak

The wind high in the Glacial Wastes did not just blow; it screamed. It whipped snow into blinding sheets that scoured the exposed skin of our small strike team, turning every breath into a painful gasp of dry, razor-sharp ice.

Nikolai led the way through the narrow mountain pass, his broad back breaking the brunt of the gale for Captain Torin, two of our best rogue trackers, and me. We wore heavy furs lined with thermal silver-thread, but against the unnatural bite of Lord Valerius’s blizzard, ordinary warmth meant nothing.

"Stay close!" Nikolai shouted over the roar of the tempest, his golden Southern aura flaring like a localized sun around us. "The ice specters hunt in the whiteout!"

"How much further to the peak?" Torin called out, his beard heavy with icicles.

"Beyond the Great Crevasse," I replied, leaning into the wind.

Beneath my thick fur cloak, the Crescent mark flared continuously, acting as a internal compass that pulled me toward the dense concentration of elemental magic atop Mount Voros. But the higher we climbed, the more the air itself seemed to resist us.

Suddenly, the snow beneath our boots gave way with a sickening crack.

"Watch the edge!" Nikolai yelled, grabbing Torin by the shoulder harness and hauling him back just as a fifty-foot section of frozen cliff collapsed into a bottomless blue abyss below.

We scrambled onto a narrow ledge of black granite, panting heavily. But before we could catch our breath, the fog surrounding the crevasse began to twist. Four translucent figures drifted out of the mist—ice specters, their faces frozen masks of agony, their claws formed from razor-sharp stalactites.

They moved without sound, gliding across the void straight for our flank.

"Defensive circle!" Torin ordered, drawing his shortsword.

The trackers struck first, plunging their fire-oil torches toward the specters. But the specters passed right through the flames, the sheer chill of their ethereal forms instantly extinguishing the torches and leaving the wood coated in blue frost. One specter lunged at Torin, its icy claws inches from his chest.

I moved instantly. Drawing the Sovereign's Edge, I stepped into the path of the strike.

Instead of a standard parry, I allowed the royal magic of my mark to flood into the blade, combining it with the raw, instinctual heat of my wolf. The star-iron burst into a blinding blinding violet flare. I swung in a clean arc, the holy fire severing the specter at the waist. The entity shrieked—a sound like breaking glass—and shattered into harmless snow.

"They're anchored by the storm!" I shouted. "We need more heat than a single blade!"

Nikolai stepped beside me, his twin daggers clearing their sheaths. He looked at me, his golden eyes burning with fierce determination. "Together, Elora. Fuse the marks."

I didn't hesitate. Reaching out with my left hand, I gripped Nikolai's forearm, interlocking our fingers.

The moment our skin met, the dual-soul bond forged in the Blackwood Forest erupted into brilliant life. My royal Crescent aura and Nikolai’s fiery Southern magic didn't just overlap—they braided together, creating a roaring column of golden-violet solar light that expanded outward in a thirty-foot ring.

The heat was instantaneous and absolute.

The remaining ice specters dissolved the moment the solar wave touched them, their ethereal forms evaporating into clean steam. Even the howling blizzard around our ledge was pushed back, creating a clear, calm dome of warmth amidst the raging whiteout.

Nikolai pulled me closer, his breathing heavy, his golden eyes glowing with a newfound, terrifying level of power. "That... was incredible."

"Our magic is adapting," I murmured, looking down at our joined hands, where violet and gold sparks still danced across our skin. "Valerius thinks he's fighting isolated wolves. He doesn't know what happens when our realm stands as one."

Torin let out a long breath, wiping steam from his brow. "My Queen... Prince Nikolai... look up."

The solar wave had cleared the thick fog above us, revealing the summit of Mount Voros. Carved directly into the side of the highest glacier stood the Glacial Citadel—a fortress of solid, translucent ice that glowed with a pale, ominous blue light under the storm.

"We found it," I said, drawing my hand from Nikolai's and gripping the Sovereign's Edge with renewed resolve. "Let's end this winter."