Amare Frost Age Novels & Stories

“They were raiding close to the academy, we were the closest military outfit that could respond to the crisis fast enough.” “I served in the Theresian Campaign to cripple the Kolys forces in the Southern states mam.” Likaya turned to Froster, her eyes widened with bewilderment. “Lieutenant, how old are you?” She asked. “I’m 23 mam.” Aster calculate the years in her head, it wasn’t likely that he was as young as she thought he was. “I was 22 during the Theresian Campaign, I was a junior. How old you were you then?”

She asks, eyebrows pinched together in a look of offense. “My god, how old are you? Are you hard of hearing, too?” Lyra asks, a hand on her chest in faux sympathy before her eyes move past Liviana and to Amara, who laughs. “Mar, promise me you’ll kill me if I age this badly.” “Of course, Ly. I’d never let you suffer like that,” Amara promises with a small pout on her lips as she looks saddened at the thought. “But I’m sure by the time we’re as old as her, we’ll both be as beautiful as we are today, if not more. We’re gonna age like fine wine.”

His heart recognized the voice. “Heard that?” Carlos Fowler’s mocking laughter came on. “Chairman Jay Adams, I have your sweet little assistant secretary. You need to hear her begging me to not touch a hair on your body. Hahahaha! You must have swam in her little honey pot to make her swoon or is it your bloody money she's fallen for?”

"He chose to come here. Chose to work the fields. Chose freedom. That choice had risks. He accepted them." "Did he? Did he know that accepting freedom meant dying in a field at thirty-two?" "No one knows what accepting anything means. We just choose and hope." Elena covered James's face. "You gave him six months of choice. That's more than Victor gave him in two years." Forty-eighth stone for Hope's Garden. Maya carved it herself. The third winter was worse than the models predicted. Minus-thirty sustained. Minus-forty during storms. Minus-fifty for three days straight when polar vortex descended.

Aurelia raised her hand, power glowing at her fingertips. I didn’t move. She lifted both hands, palms outward, and the air dropped ten degrees in a blink. Frost spread from her boots in a circular wave, curling up the wooden stage. The air crackled with quiet, elegant threat. “I did not cause the war,” she said, calm but cold. “But I will fight in it. For every wolf who chooses to stand beside me.” The air fell still.