Frozen 3 Novels & Stories

The omega twitched but gave no other sign that he had heard him. Trois stood wide eyed in the doorway with Nevis peering out from behind him looking equally shocked and he waved them both back. Ryedir crept forward, crooning as loud as he could, and hoped that the little omega would respond instinctively. The screaming trailed off as he approached and died down completely when he brushed his hands across tear-stained cheeks. Blue eyes blinked and he stared for a few long, tense moments as though he didn’t understand where he was before they finally focused on him.

The day before the Qualifier, the rink was freezing, as always, but the tension in the air made it feel even colder. Elias glided across the ice, his blades carving sharp, precise arcs as he ran through his short program for the third time that morning. His breath formed clouds in the chill, but his body moved with fluid precision, each spin, each jump landing clean.

The nausea hit him instantly. Luke caught Cass’s elbow, his eyes full of concern. Cass took a shaky breath, nodding to let Luke know he wasn't going to collapse. Isabella was frantically scrolling through her own device. "It’s working? The plan is actually working? Oh, thank the ancestors." "What is she talking about?" Jax demanded. "Isabella," Luke said, his voice low. "You wrote 'The Frozen Alpha' just to destroy Brandon?"

It felt like standing at the edge of a frozen lake. Beautiful and Terrifying. One wrong step, and everything could shatter. “Don’t hope too much, Toby,” I whispered into the darkness. My heart ignored me. It already has.

i answer "hey" "ive booked you a motel room at the oxley, go on over, order from roomservice, ill be back in the morning and ill take you to the train station and send you home via train. No arguments little one, im tired and i dont have the patience for them." click the phone goes dead and i stare at it again. what the fuck. i sit there contemplating, i g****e the oxley and see that its a motor inn. hes kinda going above and beyond being a kind person but i am tired of being here and the staff are beginning to side eye me. i grab the handle on my suitcase and start walking.

2 degrees Fahrenheit. I fumbled for my phone, intending to call for an ambulance. As it powered on, a deluge of messages poured in, all from Henry, reaching out from an unknown number, each text more anxious than the last, asking for my whereabouts. [Selena, why'd you block me? Why's your phone off?] [Wren mentioned you're overseas, is that for real? Did you really forget today was supposed to be our second 'I do'?] [Is it because of that mess with Melanie you're upset? It's all lies, babe. Can't we just cool off?]

Seven laughed maniacally as he charged at Frederick, seemingly ready to go down together with him. Frederick floated in the sky, calmly watching him. Splash! A drop of water landed on Seven’s head. Three’s movement suddenly stopped. That drop of water had turned into the sharpest weapon on earth, piercing right through Seven’s entire body. The droplets began to fall faster, and a hysterical scream echoed in the darkness. Three finally broke down under the overwhelming pressure. He howled like a madman, but went silent the next moment. Frederick had snapped his neck.

Chase had hurried to the rink but when he saw Killian carrying me he backed off. Killian took me to the locker room and put me down on a bench. “You see why this was a bad idea?” He muttered as he brought out ice packs. He knelt down in front of me and placed them on my forearm. “Where else does it hurt?” he looked up. His eyes really were beautiful. It was a light shade of green, like a new leaf on a tree. His face was framed by some strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face.

"OI! WAIT ME! ARGGHHH!!" Grrrrrrr!! I SWEAR, I HATE THE HAPPY THREE FRIENDS

I could drop dead any second. All I cared about was my dad's broken ring. I scooped up the black shards and tucked them into a velvet box. Didn't matter how I tried to fix it—some things just don't go back. *** Three months into treatment, Lorenzo still found me. Guess Elisa caved. Lorenzo looked wrecked—scruffy, red-eyed, all that cold mafia polish worn down to something raw. "Chiara..." he croaked from the doorway. I stayed leaning on the headboard, voice barely there. "The engagement's off. We're just history now. What do you want?"