Frozen 2 Jack Frost Novels & Stories

"You gonna stand there staring, or you gonna lift?" Julian's face went warm. "I was not staring." "Sure you were not." The boy grabbed a towel, wiped his face, and stood up. He was tall. Taller than Julian, broader through the shoulders, with the kind of build that came from years of work, not good genes. "You are one of the rich kids, right? Frost?" The way he said rich kids made it sound like an insult. "Julian." He stepped forward, extending his hand. "Julian Frost."

She wanted me to escape the base. I caressed her arm. At least now I know my best friend never betrayed me. We went on another expedition, and Joshua's team tailed us, trying to scavenge for leftovers. I led them into a lair of Frozen Wolftigers, and once they were all injured, I lured them into a remote frozen cave, then I sealed the entrance with an Esoteric Divination formation. I watched them as they slowly turned into frozen statues, and satisfaction coursed through my veins. My smile never left my lips.

Angrily, she grabbed his muscular arm that didn't fit into her tiny hands and made him stop on his way. Surprised by the cold temperature, he turned around and looked into her eyes that had changed color. A smirk pulled up at his lips when he looked down and found the frost starting to coat up his arm. “ Magic! ” He deadpanned and pulled Frore closer staring intensely in her eyes, to her surprise. Shocked, Frore looked down and noticed the frost not being able to seep through his skin. He was supposed to be screaming in pain right now but he was smirking at her.

I froze. Someone's here.

Grant Gonas is the man the underworld fears and the business world admires. As the CEO of GONAS, a multibillion-dollar empire built over generations, he is known for his intelligence, discipline, and ruthless decisions. But beneath the image of a respected businessman lies a terrifying secret—Grant is the head of one of the most powerful mafia families in America. Feared as The Frozen Beast, he has no room for emotions, no patience for love, and no intention of letting anyone close enough to become his weakness. A high-stakes business meeting takes Grant from Los Angeles to San Diego, where he chooses to travel without the luxury and security that usually surround him. One rainy afternoon,

It wasn't just Jay's long lashes that had Karen hooked. She had never seen such perfectly carved brows. Tempted to feel them, she extended a hand towards his lashes but stopped dead in track when Jay's eyes fluttered open and locked with hers. Frozen, her breath hitched. As she jolted back, her elbow lost balance and she crashed onto his body. She groaned and immediately attempted getting up again but his arms held her in place. “Can you stay like this for a moment…please…” he breathed.

I woke up the next day feeling cold. Marco poured a bucket of cold water on me. "Aren't you supposed to be awake by now?" He asked. I lifted my body and tried to stand up. "What do you want?" I asked and he held my wrist and pressed it. I winced in pain before he released it. "You have a package to deliver for me." He eyed me. "Why can't he send it to DHL?" I asked myself. "What package?" I asked and i got a slap in the face.

They stripped me bare and tossed me in the cold room. It was the day after Genny's birthday. Cute little one-year-old, right? Until someone dumped ice water on her. Fever hit fast. And guess who they all blamed? Me. Helga came swinging, screaming, yanking my hair. Sandro Vaitti? Didn't even look at me. Just, "Why'd you hurt my kid?" I hadn't. He hung up on me. Next thing I knew, I was locked in a cold room for twelve hours. So cold I couldn't even blink. Thought I was gonna die in there.

"Yes. Every word." "Good. Thank you." I pulled the 'Transaction Rejection Form' that Carmen had thrown at me out of my bag. A bright red official stamp was still printed across it. Under the reason for rejection, it clearly read: Suspected fraud - account frozen due to risk control. Processed by: Carmen Sanders Reviewed by: Karl Young (electronic authorization) I folded the document carefully and slipped it back into my pocket. My voice was terrifyingly calm. "I want to press charges against the Aetherton branch.

Ridiculous, even. "Ms. Stafford," I said coldly, "my name is Sage Perkins. Please address me correctly. Also, I've never seen you or your brother in my life. As a prosecutor, my duty is to fight for justice, not frame innocent people. So why, pray tell, would I hurt a stranger?" My words took her aback. Shock was evident on her face. "Don't you remember me?" She clearly refused to believe me and blurted out in a sharp voice, "Twenty years ago, at the orphanage. I stopped—"