Page 29 of Jilted By Jack Frost

“The realm is delicate. Any disruption could have catastrophic effects.”

“Bullshit.” She crosses her arms. “You’re just scared because things aren’t staying frozen and dead the way you like them.”

“These changes could destabilize everything I’ve built.”

“Or maybe they could make it better.” Her eyes flash with challenge. “When was the last time you saw frost flowers bloom in your courtyard? Because I’ve been watching them appear every morning for the past three days.”

I clench my jaw, unable to answer. Frost flowers haven’t bloomed here since before I took the throne. They require a perfect balance of warmth and cold—conditions that haven’t existed in my realm for centuries.

“This is exactly what the prophecy warned about.” I turn away, unable to look at the way the ice seemsto reach for her. “Your presence here changes things. Disrupts the natural order.”

“Maybe your natural order needs disrupting.”

Her words strike too close to the truth. I clench my jaw and stride away, my boots crunching against the frost-covered ground.

Let her think what she wants—she knows nothing of the delicate balance I’ve maintained here for centuries.

The temperature drops several degrees with each step I take, ice crystals forming in my wake. My fingers twitch with the urge to freeze something, anything, just to regain a feeling of control.

I storm back to my office, the image of those frost flowers burning in my mind. My footsteps echo through the empty halls as frost spreads beneath my feet, a physical manifestation of my turmoil.

The door slams behind me with enough force to rattle the windows. I cross the room and press my forehead against the cold glass, watching snowflakes dance outside.

“Troubled, Your Majesty?”

I don’t turn at Gabriel’s voice. “Not now.”

“I saw what happened in the courtyard.” His reflection appears beside mine in the window. “The frost flowers are quite beautiful.”

“They shouldn’t exist.”

“No, they shouldn’t. Just as she shouldn’t be able to affect your ice.” Gabriel moves to stand beside my desk. “You remember the prophecy’s warning about the mortal who walks through winter’s gate?”

“Of course I remember.”The vessel’s power she’ll control, And seal the kingdom’s final fate.

“These changes—the frost flowers, the way the ice responds to her—they’re only the beginning. Your father feared this day would come.”

My hands clench into fists. “My father isn’t here.”

“No, but his wisdom remains. The prophecy speaks of destruction, of our old ways crumbling to dust. Every moment she stays here, her influence grows stronger.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Push her away completely. Create such distance that even the mate bond cannot bridge it. Reject the bond.” Gabriel’s voice drops lower. “Better to wound her pride than watch our realm fall.”

He shakes his head. “The warming isn’t just affecting our climate—it’s affecting you. Making you soft. Vulnerable.”

The accusation stings because there’s truth in it. Every day, I feel my resolve weakening.

“The kingdom must come first,” Gabriel says. “You know this.”

Something about his words feels wrong, like a splinter beneath my skin. ButI do know this.It’s the mantra I’ve lived by for centuries.

I push away from the window, my decision crystallizing like ice.Better to end this now.

“You’re right.” The words taste like bitter frost on my tongue. “Send for her.”

Gabriel’s footsteps fade down the corridor. Minutes later, Violet appears in my doorway, still flushed from thecourtyard. Snow clings to her dark hair, melting slowly—a reminder of how she doesn’t belong here.

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