Quentin Coldwater Novels & Stories

Quin reached the fridge and opened the door, peering inside. She reached past the bottles of water and the snacks along the edge and found the bucket of ice at the back. She barely hesitated before thrusting her fingers into the frozen mass, her fingers sinking into the chunk before it, feeling the coolness sink into her bones, filling her with calm. One large piece of ice was placed within her palm, its edges sharp as she looked back over at the bed and at Hartwell. She didn't move from her place or her fingers as she looked back at him. She could see his gaze on her, could see it in the way his body held, but she didn't care. She wanted the ice.

William used to punish anyone who disobeyed him, and I know they’ll make me wish I had never been born. I hear footsteps getting closer, so I stay on the muddy ground and pretend to be unconscious. "It doesn't seem like there's any water here; let's head back. I think the water should be hot enough to peel off her delicate skin," one of the men says. I frown in disbelief. So, the water in this hole was intentional, and now they want to bring in hot water? These people are cruel. I cry, hoping they will leave. What kind of group is this?

Wyatt is still standing on the front porch of his parents house watching me when I quickly back out of the driveway and take off down the road. Later that night we are sitting in the living room, opening our gifts when my phone rings. I feel a rush when I look the caller id. “Hello?” “I got your text! Of course I want to hear from you! Merry Christmas!” Katie shouts in my ear. “Merry Christmas to you! I am so sorry for how I acted, I-” I begin. “Water. Under. The. Bridge.” She enunciates each word. “Tomorrow! Lena and I are coming over to see you! Be ready for us!”

The heavy, soundproof oak door of The Hearth closed behind them, shutting out the relentless, rain-soaked hum of the city. Located in a historic, low-profile brick building downtown, the private establishment was entirely unmarked, operating strictly on an invitation-only basis for the city’s most elusive figures. Tonight, Xavier had cleared the entire space. There were no waiters hovering, no flashing cameras, and no corporate onlookers. Just a single, candlelit table set for two in front of a roaring hearth, surrounded by deep mahogany shelves filled with vintage leather books.

“What are you worried about? It’ll be fine in the end. Even if you could go back up there, you wouldn’t be able to escape. Did you want to feed those poisonous bugs?” Although the water levels were decreasing quickly, it was still much slower than falling from the top. It felt quite uncomfortable to be in the water for long periods. Hence Alex and Dorothy leaped out and stood on the water’s surface as if light as a feather. Everyone envied their powerful skills and abilities; even Kenneth, the legendary thief who was known for his strong Feather Walk, wouldn’t be able to stand on water with such ease. However, Quincy was still as arrogant as ever, asking, “Mr. Rockefeller, I remember your sk

He leaped off the bank and splashed into the flowing stream. I got a pleasant eyeful of his back side as he dove—his ass looking unbelievably firm, tight, and heavily muscled. A wicked thought flashed through my mind: I really wanted to sink my fingers right into it. Quinn resurfaced a second later, shaking the water from his head. He looked up at me on the bank and called out aloud, "Aren't you coming in?" The cold water slicked his white hair back, making the color look creamy—or maybe silvery under the glowing moonlight.

he said simply. “You better not die,” Storm snapped. “You better not die,” I told him. We stepped into the night like thieves, but our footsteps carried the weight of an army. The river gleamed like a strip of silver under the moon; the current hissed against the rocks as though warning us back. I crouched at the bank and tested the water with my hand — colder than stone, sharp enough to sting. “Fast and quiet,” I whispered. Storm slipped into the water first, cloaked; Jack followed. I waited until Milo was in before I stepped in — the cold cutting through every muscle, but I forced my breath steady. The water swallowed us, carrying away the sound of our movements. We reached the far side dr

' He heard her excited voice in his head. He smiled and responded, 'The water looks cold.' He took off his shirt and stood to take off his pants. He heard her scoff before, 'Mystery man scared of a little cold water?' He began to march to the lake. Her back was turned to him as she rose her face up to the sun. He quietly got in, waded through the water and whispered in her ear, "I don't like cold water." She jumped and spun around to face him, then she grit her teeth and splashed water in his face.

Rattled by the cold winter wind, Xyla's teeth chattered. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she pleaded, "Save me, Quint…" Quentin frowned. "I've brought the money, so let her go!" The leader of the masked men cackled and struck Xyla on the back, causing her to lose balance and plunge into the frigid waters. Startled, Quentin's temper flared in an instant. Without a moment's hesitation, he hastily took off his coat and dove into the icy waters, propelling himself toward the drowning figure.

he said and used one hand to hold mine. I looked at him in confusion for a few seconds before pulling my hand away. “You haven’t been eating, yet you drank so much alcohol. Of course your stomach would hurt.” I called housekeeping and asked for ginger and peppermint tea. I knew that would help with his stomach. I also asked for some over-the-counter antacids, just in case he needed them. “I don’t want anything,” Qing said, blinking his pale eyes. “I just want you here with me, and I’ll get better.”