Nothing Burns Like The Cold Novels & Stories

Like drinking hot tea on a cold day. The warmth became heat. The heat became fire. The fire became agony. Every cell in my body was burning. I gasped and fell to my knees, the pain so intense I couldn't even scream. It felt like my skin was being flayed off, like my bones were melting, reforming. Like something massive, powerful was trying to claw its way out of my flesh. Zane's chanting grew louder, more insistent. The moonlight intensified, focusing on me like a spotlight.

Fleur sat, notebook open, pen poised but patient. He began with the cold. Bucharest had been bitter that winter, the kind of cold that clung to the air even indoors. He described the streets first—the gray slush, the buildings with their peeling paint and ornate scars of an older century. He spoke of how he had first walked those streets, rehearsing in his head a version of himself that seemed plausible, because in his work plausibility was survival.

It hit me before I could get out of the way. He grabbed Sheila and they bolted for the door. I chased after them, pain ripping through me, and then I was hit by something that made my insides turn to ice.

I had my mouth open to breathe. The temperature in this freezer feels like it has been decreasing. I'm no longer mobilized. My whole body is like those dolls with creepy looks with glass ball eyes just staring at you. The cold inside is like tiny feet of frost imps marching down your arm. Cold is like little teeth nibbling on your fingers. Cold is like a drip of freezing water running down your back, jangling your nerves, and setting your teeth on edge. Every inch of my body, inside my muscles and bones, is rock solid.

- He turned and walked away. All I could concentrate on was the cold. The fire has made my skin thinner and more sensitive, even a light touch can hurt, and it's torturing me with this water that feels like ice, but I was almost forced to take a shower and this is making me feel the pain with every drop.

They stayed locked on me. Watching. Capturing everything. Another lash. And another. Each one is worse than the last. The sharp metal tips caught, dragged, tore. Ripped. Opened. The cold air pouring in from the open glass door hit exposed skin, turning the pain into something unbearable—a freezing burn that stole the air from my lungs. I tried not to scream. I tried to hold it in.

"You need to calm down a little. I know you're upset, but I can see the fire burning inside you. You look like you're going to combust, and I don't know what that level of Hellfire will do." I could hear him trying to soothe me, but it was like a small breath of wind in a raging storm. Not enough to blow out the flame, but just enough to spread the fire further. It went from the fire burning in me internally to the fire spreading all over my outer body. Its scorching flames licked my skin, making it crawl on my body, squeezing tight against my bones as it shrank in the heat.

My body was in so much pain—it felt as if a wildfire had let loose, spreading underneath my skin, and it was slowly heating the blood in my veins. A hiss escaped my lips, the burning increasing. My mind went into overdrive, hoping to find some way out of this predicament. Letting Alex touch me might mean that he could lose control and mark me. Something cold suddenly touched the side of my body, leaving an icy trail on my skin. "F*ck, that feels so f*cking good!" I internally moaned. "It is extinguishing the heat under the skin." My core throbbed and burned. I needed it to be cooled off too.

"Ju‍s​t a bad bruise.⁠" "Goo‌d." "Y‍ou're‌ shaking⁠," she noted. "I am cold," I lied. ‌I w​asn't cold. I was⁠ burn‍ing. Ev‍ery place she touched left a tr​ail of f‍ire. T​he grit⁠ of the soap​, the cold of the water, the heat of her‌ f‍ingers—it w‍as sensory overload.‌ "Tur​n around," she whispered‍.

I'd need more than just a cold shower to calm down. Because this seductress was on fire.