A Touch Of Frost Book Novels & Stories

Its surface felt so smooth, almost as though it was liquid in appearance. But my eyes flickered over to the leather book which Frost had brought with him. Why would she hand such a heavy material to Frost alongside the Crimson Heart? Could there have been precautions or guidelines to using the artifact especially in a time where it was gravely needed? I was curious, and my curiosity had led me to flip the hardback open, and read though its content. With every flip of the next page, my eyes scanned through each line, each visually represented chant or rune. I kept reading until I stumbled upon something that struck my attention.

The nervous atmosphere had been diffused and Liora lightly hit Damien’s arm before allowing him to lead her out of the house and into the car. The Frost Estate looked even more magnificent in daylight. She had only ever seen pictures and videos but had never been there before. Even from outside, she could already feel the ambiance. The gates slowly opened and rows of ancient trees lined the driveway greeted them. Elegant fountains sparkled beneath the afternoon sun and every detail reflected generations of wealth without feeling ostentatious. Liora looked out the window and breathed deeply. She had seen beautiful exotic houses but the Frost Estate just looked breathtaking for several reasons

The Space Between Moons Chapter Six: The Name Between Them The frost was heavier than it had been all week. It lay across the pack lands in a thin white sheet, catching the pre-dawn light and throwing it back blue and silver, and Ivory's breath made clouds in front of her as she walked the east road faster than she'd meant to. The cold was useful. It gave her something immediate to be aware of that wasn't the message on her phone or the specific quality of those four minutes before his reply.

He played with my hair, twirling my curls around his tattooed fingers. I took a deep breath, involuntarily picturing the scene of him pressing my face into the glass table and fucking me from behind. The thought was intrusive. And too vivid for comfort. I did want that. “Brave will be touching you here,”he murmured, letting the back of his fingers graze my collar bones. “And here” he moved over my exposed cleavage,touching the skin softly and I let him, because he was hot. “Knowing that all these men are watching”. He nodded his head to the left,into the group of men he wasn’t even looking at.

The white-cloaked figure's hand was cold in mine, cold as the ice beneath our feet, cold as the depths of the frozen lake where something ancient was stirring. But I didn't let go. I held on, feeling the bond pulse between me and Stellan, feeling his warmth chase away the cold. "I will," I said. "I promise." The figure smiled—a thin, sharp curve of pale lips. "Then let us begin." ---

The words hit harder than any weapon. Because nobody had ever framed it that way. Nobody. For several seconds— Neither moved. Neither spoke. The distance between them disappeared. Slowly. Naturally. Dangerously. Froz looked down at her. Blue eyes softer than ever before. Vulnerable. Raw. Open. The closest he’d ever been to lowering every wall. Every defense. Every barrier. Then— Unexpectedly— He raised his hand. Carefully. Gently. Brushing a snowflake from her hair. The touch lingered. Longer than necessary. Long enough.

"Don't argue with me anymore, and shut your mouth with this fish because now I want to enjoy this fish too." I snorted, choosing to ignore him. I picked up a small plate to move the fish and then picked up two glasses and two plates, along with a spoon and fork. He rolled his sweater up to his elbows and picked up the pot of hot water I had prepared earlier. Because of the high altitude, the air here is cold, like fall. But it's a good thing it's not winter. I'd probably freeze. I looked at him, who was wincing, and he touched her forehead.

A significant, thick frost seemed to cover the walls, sprinkling its cold crystal gems proudly, and her gasp came out in hot huffs as a chill rushed through her; a striking fear engulfed her existence, inherently her head turned around, looking as if she detected someone or something behind, yet nothing; there was nothingness there. It was colder inside than outside; from what she could remember, the sun was out. It couldn't be more than ten degrees outside, but it seemed like minus three degrees now. 'What's going on?' "Hello?" Her voice was muffled and discouraged, her eyes suspiciously searched for any signs of danger, but nothing seemed to be there; then why did that feeling persist in b

I questioned. “Warm.” He uttered with a frown. “Warm like toasty warm or warm like its going to singe your skin off warm?” I asked and waited while he edged his own fingers into the flames without saying a word. I held my breath and froze, absolutely terrified as his fingers dipped inside the flames while a look of amazement spread across his face. “Warm like, wow.” He uttered as he slowly twirled his fingers inside the dancing flames across my hand before turning his hand and pressing it against mine. “Does that hurt?” He questioned eyeing me and I felt the tingles race through my arm at the contact, I could feel the cold but not like it had been before, like an ice-cold lemonade on a hot s

She pushed that down deep, sipping from stored bags in the fridge. Rain hammered the windows that Tuesday night. Lydia sat at her desk, sorting through a box of new books. One caught her eye: Spirits of the Wild: Bindings and Releases. The cover was cracked leather, smelling like dirt and old forests. She flipped it open, her fingers brushing over faded words in some ancient tongue. "Just a peek," she told herself. Curiosity burned in her chest. She read the spell aloud, soft and quick, like testing a locked door. The air changed. It got heavy, like before a storm. Candles on the shelves flickered wild, shadows dancing on the walls. A rumble started low, from the book itself. Lydia's hands s