Novel & Cerita Fort Frostmoth

I curled up in a corner, praying for some warmth. This place used to store frozen seafood. Now, it was just empty shelves and icy air. I stacked the shelves around me, a futile attempt to block the cold. It was useless. When I realized I was dead, a wave of despair washed over me. Seeing my frost-covered body, eyes wide with terror, and bloody nails, I felt a bone-chilling shock. Just as I was about to take a closer look, a force pulled me away, and I found myself standing next to Ean.

KAREN Could it be… At the thought of Carlos Fowler, an unexpected storm swept through my veins freezing me in place with its icy grip. I had been so occupied dreading Collins Morgan forgetting there was a bigger evil after me. I shut my eyes and drew back. “Stay away from me!” I yelled. “Don't hurt me–I have done nothing wrong to you…” I said a quick prayer. Whichever deity was around to hear me should save me. Someone had to save me. Why wouldn't anyone walk this path now?

she says with a grin. “Thanks,” I murmur, taking a grateful sip. The warmth seeps through my gloves, and I allow myself a moment to enjoy it. Before I can comment on the sheer number of decorations, the low hum of a car engine draws my attention. A sleek, silver car pulls up, and out steps Sebastian Frost. Of course, he looks effortlessly dashing, his dark coat and scarf a perfect contrast to the wintry backdrop. My stomach does a little flip. Calm down, Selina.

I asked her. Kiran shifted forward, and he leaned his elbows on his knees, as he clasped his hands together. “What’s wrong with the baby?” “She has AMC,” I answered him, my voice dull and flat. It felt so final to say it loud. “What the hell is AMC?” Kiran asked with a frown. “She has fused joints,” Adara said softly, and I nodded my head. “Fused joints?” Kiran repeated. “It means her joints are so fused together, she won’t be able to bend or straighten her limbs,” Adara said, with sadness in her eyes. “She’ll probably never walk.”

The wind howled like a mourning spirit through the ancient trees, their skeletal limbs rattling against each other in a discordant symphony. A storm was coming—not one of weather, but of war, of blood, and of shadows long buried. Aria stood at the threshold of the Council Lodge, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she watched the clouds churn above the Frostfang Mountains.

Their name is spoken in fear, for the saying, "if the moon stares at you, the Night Dancers are near, and your screams will be music." The Frost Fang Pack,or the Masters of the North, perhaps due to the cold climate, they have freezing breath. Their breath and bite freezes flesh to solid. Because of them, the entire Northern Plains are called the Graveyard of ice. "Frostfang will grant your warm heart a cold death", "One touch and you forget warmth". They are mentioned in chilled whispers as "Death's Ice."

"And that she'd be back soon." Then I looked directly at him. "You look...startled, Frost." He shook his head once, looking away from me. "I am startled indeed." This made me sit up at once, suddenly feeling desperate. "Come on, tell me what you know." He looked into my eyes. "I know nothing much, I'm sorry. But my Beta does." Frost dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. "I only found out last night. His mother..." He paused briefly. "She happens to be a secret member of the coven."

One move from her and they were already scattered and spiralling everywhere. She didn’t even look up until she bumped into someone. The latter was rock solid because although Liora was the one who bumped into him, she was the one who was sent metres backwards. She staggered and then raised her head, a familiar face greeting her. Tall. Sharp jawline. Brilliant, Dangerous, Ruthless and a foe. Damien Frost. CEO of Frost Corporation. The Frosts and The Morgans’ were mortal enemies since she could remember. The story was old and ancient and she could barely remember it but she knew that they hated each other in both private and public but sometimes managed to keep up appearances in public.

Frost was found two hours later. A security team to the coordinates Vael gave, a compact site that read as a decommissioned water treatment facility from the outside and was something considerably older inside, and the real Frost in a suspended hold exactly as Vael had described — sitting, breathing, eyes closed, dreamless. He woke inside sixty seconds of the hold being released and spent the first twenty minutes being deeply confused and the next hour being extremely focused, which was, Ava had learned, simply his personality on a sliding scale.