Todos os capítulos de Frost and Ember : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Pain... That was all she felt. Immense, all-consuming pain. It tore through her, both physically and mentally, until she felt as though every part of her being... her very soul was being torn apart. She was gravely injured, bleeding, on the verge of death. Her blood defiled the pristine white of the snow beneath her, dyeing it a deep shade of crimson. Her hair was scattered across the snow like spilled black ink, its dark strands gradually disappearing beneath the relentless snowfall. Her golden eyes, once bright enough to rival the morning sun, had grown dim, staring blankly at the gray sky above. Her eyes held nothing now but apathy and a disregard for everything... Even her own life. For she simply waited for death to claim her. This was Estella Montharne, the heir of Silvervale, a territory ruled by the Montharne family. Or rather, it would be more accurate to now call her "The former heir of Silvervale." She took a breath and shuddered at the pain of it. The cold was

“...Because you belong to me now.”The words hung in the air between them, heavier than the storm still raging beyond the walls. Estella stared up at him, uncomprehending, her mind too fractured with grief to fully process what he had just said.“What?” It was the only word she managed to say at that moment. Her disbelief was almost palpable.“You heard me, Estella Montharne. You are mine.” Adrian's voice grew lower, and something dangerous simmered beneath it now. “You are not going to die tonight. I would not permit it. Be it by your own hand or by anyone else's.”“I don't belong to anyone. Least of all you.” Estella said in a shaky whisper. The grief in her heart turned into hatred and rage. She tried to break free again, but her struggle was futile against Adrian's might.“Wrong.” His grip tightened fractionally around her wrists. Not enough to hurt her much, but enough to remind her exactly how little room she had to fight him. “From the moment I saved your life... Every single f

“... Poisoned, and none of you noticed when you first treated her?”These were the words Estella heard as she awoke. Adrian's voice pulled her out of the soft embrace of unconsciousness, and her eyes began to open. But she saw the shapes gathered around her, and she stopped herself before her lashes had lifted more than a sliver. She let them fall shut again and gentled her breath into the slow, even rhythm of someone still asleep.'Poisoned?' Estella reached for the meaning of Adrian's words, but it slipped through her grasp. Even the sentence he had spoken moments ago drifted through her mind in scattered fragments. But one word stood apart from the fog: Poisoned. Whatever they spoke of, it concerned her. So she lay still and listened. “P-Pardon my impertinence, my lord.” She heard an old man's voice tremble in shame. “A poison like this would be nearly impossible to detect through ordinary examination. I believe it was masked with Rainflower, which hides a venom as a quiet mornin

Once she had finished, the maids returned for the tray and bore it away without a word, though their relief at the empty bowl was plain on their faces. Ten minutes later another group arrived, carrying a basin of steaming water and an armful of towels. They worked around her wounds with great care. Soft ribbons of steam curled up from the basin as they wiped the unbroken skin with a soapy cloth, rinsed it clean, and patted her dry with towels warmed by the fire. The water carried a faint floral scent, some herb she could not name, and warmth seeped into skin that had almost forgotten it. Despite her indifference, some small, distant part of her found it pleasant. More than once she caught them looking. Their glances darted to her face and fled whenever she met them. Their curiosity was plain as day. They wished to know who she was, and why the cold Alpha of Frostveil kept a bleeding stranger within his own east wing, guarded by his own trusted soldiers and fed from his own kitchens.

Estella woke feeling as though she had drunk herself into a stupor the night before, her head pounding and her thoughts scattered in every direction. The last thing she remembered was her claws descending toward Adrian's throat. After that, there was nothing.For a moment she lay still and let her senses return to her one at a time. The cold coaxed her deeper under the blankets until she lay curled like a silkworm in its cocoon. She had not grown used to Frostveil's weather, and she doubted she ever would.She rolled over, and the feel of the mattress felt wrong, subtly different from what she remembered. The detail was small, but it would not let her rest. Her eyes opened once more on an unfamiliar room. This was not where she had fallen asleep.She pushed herself upright, blinking against the low light, and studied her surroundings. And the first thing to strike her was the color.Gray. Nearly everything in the room was a shade of gray. The chairs by the cold hearth, the furniture