Ice Hunter Arc Novels & Stories

I didn't notice that my hair was flaming red. I was startled because of the sudden cry of a bird, it sounds like a cry of getting hurt. I felt weak and had goosebumps because it won't stop, and my body is getting hot. I could feel my breathing getting heavy. "Kill them..." I heard a voice, not from Grandpapa, not from Zale, but this voice is full of hatred. And I feel like I'm going to puke because of this. "Kill those who dared to hurt the heir of the wind my child." And thus, my mind went blank and went to deep sleep.

JESSICA The forest was silent, too silent. The moon hung above like a watchful eye, painting the world in silver and shadow. I swung my blade again and again, each strike slicing through the air with desperate precision. Sweat clung to my skin and burned, but I didn't stop. I couldn’t bring myself to stop because all I could think of was revenge. It was ringing in my mind like a bell. Every breath was a reminder of the day the werewolves came. They had taken everything from me. My family, my joy. All that I have left was my uncle and my wonderful friend Mel. My uncle taught me how to fight, how to hide, and how to hate.

The night crackled like a storm about to shatter the world. My chest still burned from the blast of power I didn’t understand, the echoes of it rippling in the air, scattering silver-tipped arrows like dust. The cloaked hunters regrouped in the shadows, snarling curses that scraped against my skin like knives. Their bows gleamed under the moonlight, but their eyes… their eyes weren’t wolf at all. Cold. Calculating. Inhuman. Killian’s grip tightened around my hand, his storm-gray gaze locked on mine. “Aria,” he said, voice raw, fierce, urgent. “Don’t lose yourself. Whatever’s inside you—control it. Don’t let it control you.”

### The Geography of the Hunt In the war room of the Apex Suites, Rhys had replaced the local maps with a global heat-map. Thousands of tiny, violet pulses dotted the Northern Hemisphere—the signatures of the "Glitched" and "Abyssal" shifters who had been touched by Elara’s frequency. Overlapping these dots were sharp, red icons: the Fenris Strike Teams.

She walked to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water, but stopped when her phone buzzed on the counter. Her stomach tightened instantly. Unknown number. She hesitated before opening the message. You’re stepping into territory you don’t understand. Last warning. Her pulse spiked. She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. Anger rose faster than fear. She typed quickly. Then explain it. The reply came almost immediately. Ask your Ice King. He knows the rules better than anyone. The message thread disappeared seconds later. Deleted. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she stared at the blank screen.

Intrigued by this mysterious girl with silver hair and ember eyes, he resolved to get to know her better. Offering her a ride was his way of extending an olive branch, an invitation into his world. At first, Aqua hesitated, politely declining his offer. But as the heavens opened up and rain began to pour down in torrents, her resolve softened, and she accepted. The moment she climbed into his truck, Damon couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The old Chevy pickup may have seen better days, but to Damon, it was more than just a vehicle—it was a symbol of his roots, a connection to his past. He drove it with pride, a tribute to his uncle, who had passed away. His uncle was the only one

This book is dedicated to those who like them cold, with a side of sarcasm and flirty comments. Chapter One Arilyn I didn't want to go back to campus after last night but I did not want to stay home either. Not after last night. My back was sore and I could barely stand. I knew I had to suck it up. Everywhere else was better than staying at home.

Drake says. “Does it say how you will change the world, bringing the broken factions together?” I ask. He frowns at me. “Did you read it?” “No, I didn’t have to. It’s what you’re doing.” After the first night, the tension goes away and over the next week, we meet GoldMoon, the Ceryneian Hind from Greek mythology, the techrechauns, the trolls, and finally, we got to meet Lucero, the unicorn.

“No, well… I mean…congratulations on your win. You were amazing out there.” Rollins grinned, brushing a hand through his hair. “Thanks. I’ll admit, Archie might be faster than me, but I’m still the Ice Champion.” Piper nodded quickly. “It’s true.” He leaned closer. He tilted his head, expecting her to meet him halfway, but she stepped back. Just then, Archie appeared, walking past without even glancing at them. He disappeared into the locker room, followed by a few other players. Piper forced a smile and squeezed Rollins’ hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

At the center, the Archivist floats, her body a conduit for the void, her voice a siren song erasing warriors mid-swing. The Hunter loads his gun. "You sure?" I cock the storm-gun. "I'm done running." We charge. --- **The Final Verse** The Archivist sees us coming. "*Fools!* You can't kill a god!" "We're not here for the god," the Hunter snarls. "We're here for the *priest*." He fires. The bullet tears through her mosaic face, glass shards scattering. She screams, the void in her unraveling. I aim at the rift above her-a pulsating wound in the sky. The static in me surges, merging with the storm-gun's charge.