Romans & histoires Ice God

The Space Between Moons Chapter Six: The Name Between Them The frost was heavier than it had been all week. It lay across the pack lands in a thin white sheet, catching the pre-dawn light and throwing it back blue and silver, and Ivory's breath made clouds in front of her as she walked the east road faster than she'd meant to. The cold was useful. It gave her something immediate to be aware of that wasn't the message on her phone or the specific quality of those four minutes before his reply.

Inside, five small false wolf children huddled together. A girl handed her Loera’s pouch. Inside was a carved wolf’s tooth and an unnaturally cold blue stone. The girl touched the tooth and said a name, Evrek. She touched the stone, speaking her daughter’s name, Loera. The ancient word for the blue ice of a living glacier.

She was 25 years old with nothing to her name and no one to call. Thunder boomed above her. Dukia crouched under a tree that provided little relief from the heavy downpour and realized with a strange, hollow clarity that she had nowhere to go. The orphanage that raised her had closed 3 years ago after a fire that burnt down almost half of the building. Her college friends had drifted away after Liam’s isolation began a year after their marriage. “Even death would be a better option,” she thought to herself. A black Rolls-Royce turned onto the estate road.

"I can totally see that! He probably had a spreadsheet for his toys, too." "Oh, absolutely," Lucas replied. "He's always been the 'Ice King.' But honestly? Seeing him actually lose his cool because of a 'Wildcat' like you... it's the most entertainment I've had in years. You're the first person who doesn't just bow down to him."

And then he was there, close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes and count the number of buttons on his shirt—three, all undone, revealing just enough chest to suggest that the gym membership was being put to good use. "Thought I owed you a drink," he said, offering a glass with a lime slice perched perfectly on the rim like a tiny green flag of surrender. "Thanks." I accepted the drink, grateful for something to do with my hands, and took a tentative sip. Not too strong—vodka soda, clean and safe, the kind of drink that wouldn't impair my judgment too quickly.

The Alpha had threatened to throw me into whatever Glaciem was if I failed to do his bidding. “Glaciem? Why do you want to know?” She asked, spooning loads of sugar into my oats. I paused, and watched her arrange strawberries on top of it. “Because your Alpha promised to throw me into it if I fail to do what he wants me to do.” Her jaw fell, and she looked at me with something like pity. “Glaciem is a lake.” “A lake? So what makes it terrible? It's acid?” “No. In the day, it is freezing ice, chilling to the bone, but at night, it is scalding hot— hot enough to melt away the flesh on your skin just within seconds of going into it.”

“Purewater! Come now, don’t you want to sell me purewater, I want everything.” He said to her and she frowned before she walked slowly to his store, business was slow that day and she had not even sold much since morning and the cold sachet water was no longer cold. “It is not cold ooo.” She said to him.

My mind raced, trying to find an explanation, but before I could process anything, the central igloo exploded with light. The sudden brightness made me blink, but when my eyes adjusted, I saw it. The lavish preparation. The igloo wasn't just an empty dome now. Soft blue lights pulsed from hidden fixtures, casting a magical glow over ice sculptures carved into delicate shapes. There were floating candles in small pools of water, making the whole place feel like a glittering, ethereal dreamscape. A walkway of soft white fur rugs led from the entrance to the very center. It was even more beautiful than I had imagined.

"I think they don't run because you're scary—they run because Pascha scares them off before they get the chance." Pascha smirked proudly while Trisha grumbled incoherently, sinking deeper into the sofa. "I swear, if I freeze to death in Siberia, you’ll regret it, jerk," she said, squinting at Pascha with a mock-threatening glare. "Stop acting like a child," Igor suddenly appeared from behind, holding a stack of maps and a few nature guides. "You'll be fine. If you get cold, I can build a fire big enough to roast your entire body."

that kept my eyes wide open. I slipped out of bed just after two a.m., pulled on leggings and a hoodie, and crept downstairs. The arena was only a ten-minute walk, and the side door code hadn’t changed since my first night here. I needed the ice. I needed the one place where everything made sense—where physics mattered more than politics, where I could outskate every ghost chasing me.