The First Frost Novels & Stories

It's like Frost won't listen to anything that I'll further tell him since he thinks highly of himself, and he probably thinks that there would be no room for miscalculations according to the plan that he conducted. "It's cold..." My lips were shaking due to the intense cold that surrounded my body. The cold air that brushed through my skin was making me numb. Frost gently assisted me as he held me in between his arms. I don't know how it was possible, but his embrace was efficient in warming me up.

Emma rubbed her gloved hands together as she walked along the eastern farms, boots crunching over soil that had once been rich and black. Now, it looked pale, brittle—like it had forgotten what warmth felt like. The morning sun offered no comfort. Even the trees stood still, weighed down by a cold that had no business being there. The frost had crept into everything. It killed in silence. And it was winning. Emma had believed that her father, Grimkeeper was the worst thing to have ever existed. At least if wanted everyone warm but subdued under his dark rule, this ice cold being wanted everything to halt to a terrible frozen stop. She could not let something like that happen.

she says with a grin. “Thanks,” I murmur, taking a grateful sip. The warmth seeps through my gloves, and I allow myself a moment to enjoy it. Before I can comment on the sheer number of decorations, the low hum of a car engine draws my attention. A sleek, silver car pulls up, and out steps Sebastian Frost. Of course, he looks effortlessly dashing, his dark coat and scarf a perfect contrast to the wintry backdrop. My stomach does a little flip. Calm down, Selina.

Midnight turned to false dusk, the earth glowing as though bathed in ghostly twilight. It lasted no more than two seconds, then vanished. Most of the world slept through it, unaware of what had just passed over their heads. But Cyrus knew. Cold sweat soaked his back. He tipped back his beer and took a big sip. The crisp bite steadied him, but only a little. Tossing more kindling on the fire, he switched on the TV for background noise and waited—for the world to change, for the Frostfall to begin. And it did. Minutes later, the first flakes began to fall.

The wind howled through the narrow, snow-choked streets of Snowridge, as if warning anyone who dared to venture out into the deadly storm. Asha Frostheart, her face partially hidden beneath a fur-lined cloak, moved swiftly through the thick snowfall, her white wolf companion, Ghost, at her side. The blizzard's icy bite pierced through her layers of clothing, but her focus remained unbroken.

[The Winter Weaver] The first frost arrived on the island not as a threat, but as a quiet transformation. It dusted the jagged basalt cliffs in silver and turned the vegetable garden Panni had labored over into a brittle, frozen architecture. For Jinyan and Panni, the coming of winter was a milestone. It was the first season they had experienced together that wasn't dictated by the heat of a chase or the cold calculations of a merger.

VANESSA'S POV The first frost came, painting the world in a crisp, silent white. The compound, once a scarred battlefield, now bore the peaceful, sleeping look of winter. Smoke curled from lodges, and the air smelled of pine and baking bread. The pack was preparing for its first peaceful winter in years. The harvest had been brought in-a bounty greater than any in recent memory. The gardens had flourished, the herds were fat, and the stores were full. It was a tangible result of the peace we had fought for, a comfort earned through blood and tears.

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.

One move from her and they were already scattered and spiralling everywhere. She didn’t even look up until she bumped into someone. The latter was rock solid because although Liora was the one who bumped into him, she was the one who was sent metres backwards. She staggered and then raised her head, a familiar face greeting her. Tall. Sharp jawline. Brilliant, Dangerous, Ruthless and a foe. Damien Frost. CEO of Frost Corporation. The Frosts and The Morgans’ were mortal enemies since she could remember. The story was old and ancient and she could barely remember it but she knew that they hated each other in both private and public but sometimes managed to keep up appearances in public.

(Sebastian’s POV) The first of December arrived with the particular confidence of a month that knew exactly what it was. Not Austin’s usual gradual cooling but something more decisive, the air finally committing to cold in the way it had been threatening to for weeks. I woke up to find frost on the windows for the first time since Reed had been here, thin and delicate, catching the early light in ways that made the apartment feel briefly enchanted. Reed was at the window. Of course he was. But he wasn’t watching the street. He was watching the frost.