De Glace Novels & Stories

The raw vulnerability in his voice cracked Soren wide open. This was JR Draven, the fierce, unyielding man who had once hated him, battled him publicly, then claimed him so completely the entire NHL still called them Ice Husbands with awe. Hearing uncertainty from him hurt worse than any check into the boards. Soren kissed him. JR responded with that signature intensity, hands sliding under Soren’s shirt, gripping his waist as if anchoring him in place.

I said and started to pace up and down again. “Levi, breathe. Talk to me, tell me something,” he said. “Something I don’t know.” “In 1986 Lake Nyos in Cameroon exploded,” I said and he started to laugh. “1700 people died from the degassing of the 1.6 million tons of carbon-dioxide that was released and the cloud that formed was a 160 feet high.” “Shit, that’s terrible,” he said. “What else?” “The largest living organism on the planet is a honey fungus in Oregon. It spreads across 2.4 miles in the Blue Mountains,” I said and sat down. “This isn’t helping.”

She answered with disgust evident in her tone; his smirk didn't falter even a bit instead it went up to new heights. He sipped his wine, enjoying the lightness of it and she waited for his next action. He stood up and paced around the large living room and her eyes travelled on his back, as she tried to study his body posture meekly. “Great Glacier is going through loss from the last few months. The news has been hidden well from the world, but we are afraid it won't be long until the media gets a nag of it.” He stated, a bit apprehensively. “Well, media’s curiosity even exceeds a cat. So, I won’t be surprised if tomorrow there’s a headline that Glacier is dead and buried under the ground.”

She waved and made her way back to her Amber Nerd. With a victorious grin, I mentally crossed out Natasha off my list. Olivia Pierce, where is your odious ass right now?

Even Alex looked like a mini-astronaut. "Thermal scans show a massive heat source inside that glacier," Alex checked his wrist computer. "It's huge. It's not just a base. It's a city." They climbed into the snow-crawlers (all-terrain vehicles) unloaded from the plane. They drove towards the glacier wall. As they got closer, they saw it. Carved directly into the sheer ice cliff was a gate made of black metal, three stories high. Above it, carved in ice, was the symbol of The Ouroboros.

The descent into the Deep-Frost felt less like a journey and more like a fall from grace. The transport hummed with a strained, high-pitched frequency as we dove into the sub-glacial canyons beyond the First City. Here, the air was so cold it didn't just bite; it attempted to crystallize the very breath in our lungs. Outside the reinforced viewports, the indigo quartz of the city had given way to "Elder-Ice"—a substance so ancient it was blacker than the void, translucent only when the transport's floodlights caught the frozen remains of leviathans trapped within its depths.

Kael could not take his eyes away from the sky-touching mountain ranges around him. The snowcaps had soared high in the orange sky, touched by the settling sun. He had heard before that these ranges were the borders of Glacia from the southern regions. And although he couldn’t see it, he knew there were highly-fortified walls above the mountains, with fat round towers to keep watch of the border.

He raised his cup and shouted, “Alpha! We’ve seen beauty, but in Shadow Claw, we worship strength! They say Alpha Glacier is the finest fighter in the north. Are we just going to eat, or will we see a real blade dance?” Cheers exploded around the hall. It was a trap. A perfect one. Drake looked at Glacier with a challenge burning in his eyes. “What do you say? Shall we give my men a show worthy of your name… or has the journey tired the northern wolf?” Glacier rose slowly. His fur cloak slipped off his shoulders, revealing a strong, balanced body. He did not look at Drake. He looked at me.

The escape from the Glacial Spire was a descent into a nightmare of falling ice and screaming wolves. The city of Crystalia, once the shimmering jewel of the North, was literally melting before our eyes. Without the High King’s ancient magic to anchor the enchanted frost, the grand spires were becoming brittle, groaning under the weight of a thousand years of history before shattering into lethal shards.

Valentino says smoothly, “head of the Las Vegas branch of the Camorra, and his Godson, Carnage. Don, this is my wife, Nooria Delucca.” Don Martinez turns, his dark eyes lighting with interest as they land on me. He offers a slight bow of his head. “Mrs. Delucca. A pleasure. I must say, your husband has excellent taste.” I incline my head politely, keeping my voice steady. “It’s an honor to meet you, Don Martinez.” Carnage – which I'm pretty sure is his nickname – snorts a laugh. “I'd never guess the infamous Valentino Delucca got married. I always swore you'll die single "