Nothing Burns Like The Cold Novels & Stories

There was something glowing in my mind that was about to explode. The fleeting feelings of unknown was at the center of my thoughts. At this moment I am a prisoner in a free world. Every corners of my mind seemed to speak by themselves and my heart seemed to be in ablaze. I stared blankly at the bright light in house in daze. It was like my eyes were roving around for something which I was not there. Something beyond its reach it persisted and jammed my heart with queer thoughts. In this night, I felt like embracing somebody. My heart felt lonely and devoid while my whole body seemed into be in flames.

“My lady, you have a natural understanding to the arts. And yes, that is exactly right.” I ignore the small ounce of pride that I feel when I hear the compliment and focus on Al instead. What was it about the stories that my father used to tell? About how the old doctors used to cut or burn flesh to treat the infection? Burn. I picture a fire at the back of my mind. A fire that only eats bacteria and rotting flesh. My hand starts to burn as the image in my head grows stronger until it actually appears in real life. Fire emerges from my hand, but even as my hand rests inside of the fire, it does not burn me or Al. My panic dies down when I realize that.

My whole body feels like it's on fire and I can't move an inch. I got sick, great. I feel so cold and the AC is on. I've tried to move to turn it off, but I can't move, worsening my condition even more. I sniffle and I continue staring at the ceiling. It feels like my whole body is blazing with fire and someone is banging a heavy metal on my head.

I checked it, and to my surprise, it was from Margaret. "It's been forever, Rue, and I still haven't heard any fire trucks. I don't think I can hang on much longer. The pain from the burns is unbearable. I can't even imagine what Bernard went through. "You've been visiting me all this time, but that useless son of mine, Joshua, barely even stops by. I knew something was going on between you two. "I actually looked into it. His first love returned, right? You never really talk to me about your problems, sweetheart. If I'd known earlier, I would've taken care of that jerk for you. I felt so bad for you, Rue.

“They said you’re still untouched. I like them that way. So I came early. Before my brothers. Thought I’d get my fill before handing you over.” His fingers gripped my chin, splitting my lip. “Payment up front.” He leaned in. The brand lit. Not with light. With something worse. Fire that wasn’t fire— heat without warmth, brightness without mercy. And then it happened. Something inside me… snapped. It slid into my bones like molten shadow, curling through my lungs, wrapping around my spine. My heartbeat slowed. My breathing evened. The cold became irrelevant.

"Let me tell you, it is better to get killed on the spot than being just thirty minutes in their custody and getting tortured. They won't kill you easily. They will torture you until they get what they want from you." Arjun thought for a moment before continuing,"I once heard they burned a man alive. I don't know why. They pulled his all teeth and nails before pouring wax all over his body and tortured so many times before setting him on fire. And his―" "Okay that's enough. I think you are exaggerating." He shivered at the thought. "I'm not―" Arjun tried to protest. "Whatever. Stay on the topic."

Snow’s P.O.V Fire. It raged inside me, burning through my veins like molten lava, scorching every nerves in its path. I had no mouth to scream through, no voice to beg for it to stop, but inside my head, I shrieked. Louder than I ever had.

The cold here wasn’t like the cold Kaela knew. Back home, cold stung your fingers and bit at your ears, made you pull your coat tighter and curse under your breath. It could be beaten back by movement, by fire, by enough layers. This wasn’t that. This cold seeped in like a secret. It found its way through leather, through fur, through skin. It didn’t burn or sting—it settled. In her bones. In her blood. And once it was in, it didn’t leave.

Author's pov Caroline grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, the condensation clinging to the glass like tiny diamonds. She gulped it down, the icy liquid momentarily soothing the burning sensation in her throat. It was the kind of burning you felt after a good fight, not a physical one, but a mental one. The kind that left you feeling raw and exposed.

Killian’s POV The cold wasn't just an external temperature—it was a crawling, living thing that wormed beneath my skin like icy leeches sucking the warmth straight out of my bones. It coiled around my ribs, slithered down my spine, and settled like a parasite in my lungs, making each breath feel like inhaling shards of glass. But despite the frost biting at my flesh, it couldn’t compete with the wildfire raging in my veins. My blood boiled with something far worse than pain—something older and more primal.