Killer Frost Comics Novels & Stories

Antonio said in a hard and serious tone. "So you are worried?" Frost smirked at him. "Yes." Antonio honestly answered her. "Don't worry. I am not weak as you think I am." "It's not that I think you are weak but because it's really dangerous out there." "Oh." Frost only replied. She then walked in front of Antonio. She raised her right hand, and her hands started glowing. After a second, there was an ice dagger floating on top of her hand. Frost didn't stop there, she casually stepped backward and made a big wolf out of ice. Only slightly smaller than the snow wolf beast. The snow wolf beast which was almost taller than Frost.

He managed to get up but got his foot sliced by a bigger piece of the broken glass "Zaylee" his voice broke down and he fell unconscious. "Is he still alive?!" The doctor nodded. "Where was his wife? Those glasses could have seriously injured him" Armani stared at the doctor "His wife is dead" The doctor blinked repeatedly before shaking his head his despair. He left the two alone. "What do you mean!" Dex yelled at Armani trying to stand up "You killed your wife Dex" Dex glared at Armani "Armani where is she?!" he yelled getting hold of Armani

Their eyes, still open, became jewels of frost. I walked through the garden, and behind me, everything died. Elias watched from the doorway, his purple eyes wide. Aldric stood where I had left her, her hand outstretched. Frost covered her dress, her hair, her lashes. But she was alive. The cold recognized her. She was part of me. "Jade," she said. Her voice was small. "You need to stop." I looked at my hands. The claws were receding. The frost was retreating. The glacier in my core was gone, emptied, spent. I had used everything.

"Give me one more chance, even if it's just to stay by your side and make it right," Neal said bitterly. His plea was cut short by a cold gun barrel. Kirk stepped out of the shadows, aiming at Neal's forehead. "This isn't the Winters Mansion," Kirk warned. "You don't get to make a scene here. One more step, and the bullet won't care who you are." Neal froze, the light in his eyes fading. Liam grabbed his arm. "Let's go."

I couldn't help getting anxious as I defended myself, saying, "It's September, and he set the AC to 50°F. That's not something a normal person would do, okay?" As soon as I said that, Keith shot me a vicious glare. "I've said before that I'm not an ordinary person. I'm the Holy Son of Frost from the heavens. If the room gets warm, I'll melt." I stared at Yara. "You don't actually believe him, do you?"

The temperature dropped with every step he took, and my claws cracked the frozen ground. "Caelum Mercer," the Frostborn said, and his voice was cracking ice. "The last of Theron's line. I've been waiting three hundred years to end this." Bastian lunged forward, and the Frostborn swatted him aside like a pup. My black wolf crashed into a tree and didn't get up. Through the bond, I felt his pain, his fury, his refusal to stay down. But he was hurt. Kellan tried to flank, and the nullifying wolves blocked him. Archer was pinned behind the lines. Sable snarled and stepped in front of me, and the Frostborn looked at her with something like recognition.

I heard the crash, the snap of teeth, and Rowan swearing so loudly the word echoed through the chamber. “Kael!” Cassian shouted. “I have it!” Ice exploded through the small opening behind me, sharp and bright in the flashlight beam. Cold blasted across my back. The wolf’s snout shoved briefly into one of the lower cracks, teeth bared, eyes glowing with mindless rage before Kael’s ice sealed around the opening and forced it back with a furious yelp. My heartbeat punched against my ribs. The dead man stared at the floor. The letter waited.

The marsh beyond the hollow walls stirred as if holding its breath. She felt everything. Rowan’s fury. Lucien’s hunger. Her own rising storm. She lifted her hands—fire and frost blazing in perfect symmetry. The marsh answered. Roots erupted through the floor in long, twisting spears. Fire burst from her palms in a column of gold, but frost intertwined with it—blue-white veins snapping through the flames like ice lightning. Wolves howled as frost sealed their paws to the stone, while the fire seared the air around them.

The warmth in her blood warred against the biting cold, and she pulled her cloak tighter, more out of instinct than need. They had come a long way through wind-scoured cliffs and soul-numbing snow to get here. The Flames Archives had armed them with knowledge and trial-forged resolve. Now, they stood at the edge of enemy territory—the Frost Citadel, heart of the Cryo-Scion’s legacy and his most powerful weapon against the world: cold stagnation. Marcus knelt beside a frozen statue embedded in the wall. It was a man, preserved mid-scream. “These aren’t sculptures,” he muttered. “They’re people.”