Novelas y relatos de Frigid Blast

I can become something more than a bargaining chip. I reach out and rest my hand on the ledger beside his. My fingers are cold from the chapel stone. His are warm. We do not touch, but the space between our hands is no wider than the spine of the book, and I can feel the heat of his skin across the gap. The candle gutters again, and this time it nearly goes out. I cup my palm around the flame to shield it, and the light steadies. “The storm is coming back,” I say.

“Come one love! Just live a little, will you? Bran is okay with Shone and Sylvia. Besides, he's now a big boy and now he doesn't cry anyhow. I nod in understanding. I'm sleepy and I know Bran will be well taken care of, even if I sleep for three hours. He's not hungry since I've already fed him. I call Sylvia to inform her that I'm going to take a nap and that they should take care of my baby. They both assure me that he'll be okay and I walk up the stairs with Jeff in hot pursuit. Once in the bedroom, I slump on the bed and pull the quilt over. Despite it being day time, it's winter over here and it's extremely cold. All I need is to stay warm. My husband does the same and hurdles himself c

She lifted something into the air with both hands. Brea sucked in a huge breath when she finally realized that Victoria held a baby high into the air, a bright blue blanket swathed the boy as he began to cry. The whole beautiful setting turned from a sparkling scene to a black ash color before her very eyes. Everything blurred and the once bright colors ran together, like a Rockwell painting gone wrong. She could hear a loud roaring, it sounded like that time when a tornado passed close to where she lived in town last year. Her body shook as her stomach heaved. This can’t be real! She leaned her head back and screamed, “NOOOO!”

Usually, the hellblade felt like an extension of my rage and gave me warmth, but now, I reached for something else. I reached for the cold void I had felt when I learned the truth about my mothers death. “Frost Bite!” I yelled. The red glow of the hellblade didn’t vanish, but it was suddenly encased in a layer of jagged, blue-white frost. The temperature in my immediate circle plummeted. My breath hitched as the cold bit into my hands, turning my fingers blue. “Manolya, your hands!” Pelin shouted. “I’ve got it! Just make him busy!”

Lyra whispered back, her voice ringing with absolute, untouchable royalty. CRACK-BOOM-KABOOM! The explosion was magnificent. A blinding pillar of white-gold and obsidian energy shot ten thousand feet straight up into the arctic sky, instantly melting the surrounding glacial spires into a massive, cascading waterfall of crystal-clear mountain water. The blue-black crystal encasing the Frostpeak Outpost shattered into millions of harmless, sparkling dust particles that drifted down like snow under a newly cleared, sunlit sky. The Frost Sovereign’s massive form imploded into harmless mist, evaporating completely before it ever hit the ground.

As Zephyr focused his gaze to meet the path ahead, a loud popping noise had already come his way. It was cold, extremely cold. Snow dropped from the sky, and painted the ground white. Ice spikes as tall as a man dropped to the ground, refracting light brightly. A great cold chill enveloped the area. No longer was there any black fog, it was as though Zephyr had entered a whole new world, one which was far more terrifying than before — a cold, cold world.

Crash! I stood over the fractured ice once more and swung the axe with every last ounce of strength. I hadn’t removed the camera from my helmet. Immediately realizing what I was doing, Luna screeched, "Sophie, are you crazy?!" I ignored her, continuing to raise my numb arms and swing them down, mechanically repeating the motions until… Crack! With a sharp crack, the ice split completely apart, exposing the heating pipe underneath. Taking aim, I lifted the axe high—

"Celine, I need your hands. Now!" I didn't have time for a slow detox. The infection was moving through their lymphatic systems, heading straight for the "seeds" of their power. I reached into the bottom of my kit and pulled out three obsidian needles, tipped with Glacier-Silver—a substance so volatile it could freeze blood solid if used incorrectly.

Zero rationale existed to remind his consciousness of that stolen dream again. The rotary blades achieved maximum velocity, lifting the chopper into the sky, and Finn immediately extracted a heavy wool insulation blanket, a dark bottle of fermented vineyard rations, and two crystal vessels from his utility pack. He wrapped the insulating fabric around their combined forms, pouring a precise ration into each glass. Val directed his visual focus out the viewing port as they consumed the liquid, and a massive bubble of pure instinctual excitement surged within his chest cavity as the majestic peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains materialized on the geographic horizon.

WRITER'S POV Collins stepped away from the door. His eyes squinted. Again, Margaret didn't look like she was just messing around with him. “What rubbish are you talking about?” “Have a look.” She played a video and pointed her phone to his face. Collins stared horrified at the phone screen, his face drained instantly of colour. “What…where…” “So, how many years will it be? Oh, I even heard the girl in question didn't make it. Poor kid.”