Ice King Finn Novels & Stories

He was the one who flung himself onto the fuckers back and helped pin him whilst the others tore into it. “I mean, I’m just thinking of the shit-ton of gold I’m going to get at the end of all this. I’ll be able to buy my boat, get the hell away…” “Boat?” I managed to splutter. My eyes opened enough to take a good look at Finn. Despite our frosty start he was a hell of a beast. Shoulders twice as wide as mine, terrifyingly large like his father.

I also nodded. “My little girl is all grown up.” Finn grinned and I smiled at his reaction. “Now don’t think that you can escape it, where is the ring?” He sked as he pulled out his own spoon from his pocket and dug into the ice cream. I stared at him in shock. “What?” “Finn!” “Don’t tell me that you were not expecting that Iris, this is me that we are talking about.” I nodded then, I should be expecting that. “The ring.” He commented with his mouth full of my ice cream. I sighed as I stood up. The quicker he get to see the ring, the quicker I can steal my ice cream back with his attention occupied somewhere else.

Dawn broke slowly over the mountains surrounding Vancouver. Pale sunlight spread across the forest and reflected off the frozen lake behind the Thorne cabin. The towering column of ice that Finn had created during the night still stood in the middle of the lake like a crystalline monument. It glittered in the early light. Inside the cabin, the morning was much less dramatic. Finn ran through the hallway in his socks, swinging his toy hockey stick. “I make big ice!” he announced proudly. Liam followed him, lifting a foam puck with his telekinesis and dropping it again.

He frowned. “Happy?” Ivan arched his brow. “Well, that was more words than I bit most people hear from you in a year, your mate excluded.” I chuckled, nudging his knee. “What did we tell you about our brother and his mate?” “Finn is a hockey fan, specifically the Maple Leaves, and art primary sculptures as that is his talent your mother cultivated. His mate is Lorna from the Everfang pack, who works as a pack doctor and enjoys gardening. Their son is Isaiah, and he is their pride and joy. He’s only five and studying at a third-grade level.” Ivan outlined.

The flashlights began blinking like crazy, creating a blinding wall of white light. This happened because Julian Vane wasn't just any regular hockey player who did well in the sport. He was the Ice King. He was a global superstar, a billionaire icon, and he practically owned the entire league with his talent and fame. The captain and leader of the other foreign hockey team immediately went bright red with anger and deep embarrassment at being ignored so quickly. He felt completely insulted, but nevertheless, he controlled his fierce temper, forced himself to keep calm, and walked past the shouting crowd with a stiff, angry back.

"You want freedom? Earn it." I blink. "By doing what? Playing Florence Nightingale in your blood-stained kingdom?" "By proving to me that you can stay one step ahead of rot." The Ice King turns toward a shelf behind his desk and pulls a slim, locked folder from the drawer then tosses it onto the polished wood with a sharp thud. "There's a man in my crew who's been acting strange," he says. "I want you to observe him. Watch. Listen. Tell me what your gut says."

“I’m a little out of practice.” “A little?” He smirks, lazily gliding toward me. Effortless. Like the ice bends for him. “You look like Bambi on roller skates.” Heat surges to my cheeks. “You’re supposed to be helping me.” “I am.” He flicks a puck in my direction. “Rule number one: stop whining.” The puck skitters across the ice. Instinct kicks in I catch it on my stick, handle it without thinking. For a second, it feels right. Then my balance falters, and I stumble.

The ghost lead becoming instinct rather than instruction. Kai’s group made it difficult where they could. There were mornings they took up the ice without acknowledgement, positioning themselves as though our presence was an inconvenience they had chosen not to address. I didn’t argue. I didn’t push back. I found the available space and used it and kept my eyes on my own players. It wasn’t worth the energy. Not yet. One evening we had barely stepped onto the ice when I heard him behind us. “It’s our turn. Get out.”

This main is missing a screw or two. Adrian rolls up his sleeves while easily dodging the attacks. Without hesitation, Connor sprints behind the enemy as Adrian clicks his finger, freezing the adversary. Once Connor is ready to strike, Adrian waves his hand, the ice crumbles down, and Connor pierces the beast's heart. Jacob disfigured being drops lifeless, igniting into purple flames, just like the one back home. -"Everyone, inside now!" Adrian orders. The crowd rushes inside the castle, Adrian pulling me along with his grip steady on my wrist.

“I told you I’d fight with you—avenge my family, tear them apart! What more do you want from me? Why drag me through this hell?” He laughed again, a brutal, cold sound that raked over my skin like claws. I had heard rumors about his ruthlessness and how he treated his enemies. Prince Arineth was also known as the Ice Prince, having slain countless rogues without mercy. I never expected he would be crazier than they had described him.