Page 21 of Trapped with the Ice Queen

Alex paused, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows. “What, fixing things?”

Vivienne shrugged,feigning nonchalance. “Yes. I mean, clearly you’ve done this sort of thing before.”

Alex didn’t respond immediately, turning her attention back to the pipe. “You grow up in a place like this, you learn to handle things yourself,” she said simply. “Not much choice.”

There was no judgment in her tone, but the words still hit Vivienne like a subtle rebuke. Of course Alex was self-sufficient. She’d had to be. Vivienne, on the other hand...

Her chest tightened. How useless she must seem in comparison, fumbling to light a fire while Alex rebuilt their temporary world with her bare hands. She swallowed hard, trying to push away the thought of Alex’s rough, calloused hands over her body.

Instead, she focused on the rhythmic scrape of Alex’s wrench, the faint hissing sound as steam escaped the pipe. “What if it doesn’t work?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Alex shrugged, not looking up. “Then I’ll figure something else out.”

Vivienne blinked. The answer was somatter-of-fact, so confident, it was almost infuriating. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Alex echoed. She set the wrench down and wiped her hands on a rag, finally meeting Vivienne’s eyes. “Survival isn’t about getting it perfect. It’s about doing what you can with what you’ve got.”

The words stuck in Vivienne’s mind like a burr. Survival. It was such a foreign concept to her, so far removed from the privileged, insulated life she’d built. Yet here, in this cramped cabin with Alex’s steady hands and pragmatic outlook, it felt startlingly real.

“I... I can help,” she said.

Alex blinked, clearly taken aback. “Help?”

“Yes. I mean, I can hold something or...I don’t know, pass you tools or something.” Vivienne’s cheeks burned, but she refused to back down.

For a moment, Alex just looked at her, as if trying to gauge her sincerity. Then she gave a small, begrudging nod. “Fine. Hold the flashlight.”

Vivienne scrambled off the sofa, clutching the flashlight as though it were a lifeline. She crouched awkwardlybeside Alex, the coldness of the wooden floor seeping through her leggings.

“Point it here,” Alex instructed, gesturing to a section of the pipe.

Vivienne adjusted the beam of light, her fingers brushing against Alex’s as she handed over a screwdriver. Alex didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, and for some reason, that small detail made Vivienne’s chest ache.

They worked in silence, save for Alex’s occasional instructions. The tension that had defined their earlier interactions seemed to ease, replaced by a tentative sense of cooperation.

When Alex finally straightened, wiping her hands on her jeans, Vivienne felt an unexpected swell of pride. “That should hold,” Alex said, nodding at the now-secured pipe.

Vivienne glanced at her, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “See? I’m not completely useless,” she said, more to herself than to Alex.

Alex’s mouth twitched, her expression softening just enough to make Vivienne’s breath catch. “Not completely,” she said, her tone almost warm.

In that moment, the storm outside felt just a little less cold.

The storm had eased, its once-howling winds now little more than a whisper that swept against the cabin walls. The stillness left behind felt heavier somehow, like the world itself had stopped to catch its breath. Inside, the fire cast flickering shadows that danced across the walls, painting the room in hues of amber and gold. The air was warmer near the stove where Vivienne and Alex sat, a small table between them.

Steam curled upward from their mugs—Alex’s filled with tea, Vivienne’s with a generous splash of whiskey she’d insisted was for the chill. It was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire and the clink of ceramic against wood.

Vivienne studied Alex from across the table. Her posture was loose but guarded, a faint line between her brows betraying her ever-present vigilance. In the shifting light, Alex seemed less imposing, hersharp edges softened by the glow. For once, she didn’t look like the woman who had spent the day barking orders and repairing pipes. She looked...human.

Vivienne wrapped her hands around her mug, savoring the warmth against her fingers. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it felt fragile, as though one wrong word could send them retreating to their respective corners. Still, the quiet pressed on her, urging her to speak.

“Have you always lived out here?” she asked.

Alex glanced up, her eyes briefly narrowing in suspicion, but something in Vivienne’s expression must have disarmed her. She leaned back in her chair, her mug cradled loosely in one hand.

“Not always,” she said after a moment. “Grew up in a town not too far from here, spent some time elsewhere, then I came back.”

Vivienne tilted her head. “Elsewhere? That’s awfully vague.”

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