Lane Frost Books Novels & Stories

She felt so pained now and tears flows down her eyes, weting her face and her book. "Linda you dinner is ready" their house help said but Linda gives no reply. it won't arouse much concern because that's what she usually do most times, No one in the whole house will know that today is a very different day. A day she got really broken. Alex felt something hurting hjs chest as he picks up his book to read. At first he thinks that it's just stress that he want to rest but as he wants to go and rest, he felt the pain again, this time it's too severe. What is happening he asked himself and suddenly remembered what his Father taught him about love in the werewolf world.

a lady exclaimed. Larice couldn’t stand with these people any longer. They took her rapier … they took everything from her. Tears kept on falling from the corner of her closed eyes. The curses and yells went on and on … filling the hall with louder noises. “Unhand me …” Larice clenched her fists, her breaths increasing. “I said unhand me!” she yelled out to the hunters, grabbing her arms. Frost instantly spread out from their touch, expanding on their hands, then to their arms. “What the—“

The beasts screeched, having wide demon wings and deadly talons. Arth extended one hand forward and called for his weapon. His palm released thousands of alar, like blue ribbons, all circling him, then they all gathered to form his blade; Frostcalibur. Coldness dominated against the hot air, so cold that he saw Elicantris wince at its chill. Arth took hold of Frostcalibur’s hilt and prepared to launch. The plan seemed more difficult to achieve, now that Arth was facing the terrifying army. But he had to do it, and he’d give out his all for this.

Manang Lydia said. “Does she allow that?” Manang Lydia smiled and winked at me. “If you are feeling fine, then you can.” I went upstairs and went to Dale’s library. Before picking up a book to read, I enjoyed looking, rooming around first, leaving a gentle touch to every book I passed by. My gaze at the “The Scorch Trial” book that was written by James Dashner. I already finished reading “The Maze Runner”. I decided to read it and went to the garden.

My mother loved to write, and most of her writings were about random facts and a few things she couldn't wrap her head around. When I didn't find anything in the papers, I resorted to checking the books. Just three notebooks and two textbooks. Nothing in the notebooks. My fingers froze over the box when I put my hand in to take out the book that hadn't fallen out when the box broke. "They call them Frostborn." The title read. I stared at it, my heart pounding like I was about to unveil or learn about something I wasn't supposed to. I brought out the book and cleaned the dust off it with the sleeve of my clothes.

Hell, maybe he could even get his own spinoff. Leah flitted off to work with an extra cinnamon roll, and I was left alone in the apartment. It was still morning yet, so I had time to kill. I elected to curl up on the couch with one of the lycan books Blair sent with me. It was unusual to get a book from Blair that was not old, leather bound, and smelled of dust and aged paper. This one was the most interesting by far because it was a paperback that looked to be written within the past decade or so. It looked too… normal. It had a publishing date and everything.

Please feel free to read my completed books on this platform: The Bad Boy's Problem The Debt Collector My Boss is Clueless The Wrong Brother A Chaotic Flower The Ugly One Excuse Me, I Quit! And my two ongoing books: Stalking Aaron Conquering the Bad Boy + Bonus story attached ( Lily Hates Me)

He just flicked my forehead and followed the lady to the other room. I waited for almost half an hour before they returned. The lady handed me a small book that was almost of the same size as my hand with my picture on it and several writings I could not understand. “Your eyes are gorgeous,” she complimented. “T-Thank you,” I responded. “Since you are gorgeous yourself, do not waste your time on that womanizer over there. He is not worth it.” “I can hear you, Frost,” Lansford stated as he stood from his seat. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time left.”

“You’ll learn.” “Learn what?” “To stop counting the dead.” She stood, frost cracking off her furs. “Count the living. Fewer to remember.” The tundra held its breath as she left. Somewhere beneath the ice, something shifted—a slow, tectonic grind. The dagger hummed in response. I tucked it under my shirt. The cold seared my skin, familiar now. Like Lira’s hand in mine, the day the Frostfangs exiled her. Like Yrsa’s blood pooling between my fingers.

A thin sheet of ice glazed over the nearby flowers, wilting them. My breath came in ragged gasps. “Aurelia,” Alba warned. “You need to control it.” But the cold wasn’t listening. It was mourning. It was jealous. It was longing. My emotions had triggered it, the same way storms start with a shift in the air. I tried to pull the power back in, but it was like holding a blizzard in my hands. I clenched my fists, trying to contain it—to smother it. The cold pulsed brighter. I dropped to one knee, gasping for air. The ice wasn’t just anger. It was something more primal. A surge I couldn’t stop.