Page 46 of Gifted to the Frost King

A loud clap of thunder shakes the room. Glasses slip from the patrons’ hands and shatter on the floor. The ice sculpture of a large snowflake cracks in half and breaks against the marble. Snow falls furiously outside the window. Lightning cuts through the heavy white clouds. A few elves give loud gasps and back away from the floor.

I glance up at Frosty, who narrows his bleary eyes.

“What is the meaning of all of this?” he growls.

Suddenly, the doors fly open and hit the walls with a loud bang. A freezing wind blows into the room, chilling even me. Frost crawls and cracks up the side of each wall, coating everything in a thin layer of ice. The storm rages outside, and a figure appears in its center.

She is dressed head to toe in white. Her cloak and skin glow, and her blue skin glimmers in the light as if she were made of ice. Her eyes shine like two blue flames, and long blue hair floats around her slender shoulders. Her beauty is fearsome.

The figure floats into the room. She is barely taller than me but somehow manages to suck the power from it. Raising a delicate hand, she extends a finger towards the King.

“You,” she snarls in a voice that is soft and rough at the same time. “I know what you’ve done. For what you have taken, I now shall take from you.”

Frosty’s lips pull into a sneer as he scoffs at her. Rising from his throne, he tosses his goblet and descends towards her.

“Be gone, Witch. I do not care for these games.”

Blue light glimmers in his palm, but as he waves it, the female remains precisely where she is.

“I am more powerful than you, young king.” Her smile is cruel. “Perhaps you need a reminder of that.”

Crooking a finger at him, the King flies through the air with a surprised grunt. He lands before her as shackles made of ice crack through the marble floor and lock around his feet. His eyes flash with bewilderment as he thrashes in place.

“Release me, you?—”

“I am the Sorceress of the White Woods, protector of the snow fairies, and keeper of these lands. For your callous treatment of my children, I have come to deliver your punishment.”

“Unhand me at once, or I’ll?—”

The sorceress laughs delicately before waving her hand. An invisible force sends the King to his knees. He stares up at her with hot rage. Plucking the silver crown from his head, she holds it between her two palms. White light flows from her arms and over the silver.

“I curse you, young king. You will live a lonely life. Those in this kingdom will freeze and turn to ice so they no longer suffer under your rule. My magic will keep them blissfully unaware and protected by time. One day, you will join them in their icy prison, but not before you have suffered for the pain you’ve caused. You have behaved like a beast, and so too shall you be tormented by one. A restless soul will bind itself to yours and turn you into a snarling creature. A monster will grow in your heart until it eats away at every last miserable shred of you.”

The Frost King stops struggling, his hands beginning to tremble. The thick scent of metal nearly chokes me.

“Do not despair yet, young king. For there is a way to save yourself. One will come who may free you from this curse—you will know her well. She is who you’ve been searching for since you were small. Yourmate.”

The Frost King bares his teeth. “You wretched?—”

“Mating bonds are so sacred to your kind. It would be unfair for me to neglect it.” Her lips twist into an even harsher smile.

The sorceress leans down and whispers something in his ear. I cannot hear it, but whatever she says makes his skin pale. The last of his fight leaves him, and he curls forward.

“Now you know what must be done for her to free you. Only you will be privy to this knowledge.” Throwing her head back, she cackles. “But that is too easy. I want you to feel the same hopelessness my children have felt since you banished them. And that is why the thing you’ve used to hurt so many will now be your permanent chains. It will blight your memory—erode who you are until you can’t even remember yourself.”

“Impossible! If you make me forget, how will?—”

But the sorceress merely gives another hearty laugh before she slams the crown down atop his head. Silver light pours from his head as the crown fuses with his skull—the Frost King shrieks and howls. Icy claws rip through my heart at the display.

With a wave of her hand, the sorceress sends a blast of ice to cover the room. The walls are leached of color and turn into the familiar white stone I’m used to seeing. Elves scream and try to flee the room, but it is useless. Their bodies are quickly coated in frost, and they solidify in moments.

The room goes utterly silent. At long last, the Frost King grunts and blinks, opening his eyes. Watching him take in the room, I glimpse the feral gleam in his eyes. With a sinking stomach, I watch as sharp claws slice through the ice around his feet. His lips pull back at the sorceress, but she twists into a pile of sparkling fairy dust and is carried off on a winter breeze.

The Frost King turns towards me. He is so close I can smell his pine scent. I remind myself that I’m not here; this is a memory, and nothing can touch me. Yet, I watch as his whole body stiffens and his nostrils flare. Reaching a clawed hand towards me, it nearly brushes my shoulder when?—

Beneath me, the floor shifts, and I am gently pulled through it. The memory dissipates, and I am left breathless. Questionsbang around inside my head, but I don’t have time to consider them. Not as I’m thrust into another memory.

My feet land on the library floor. The sun shines through the massive windows. Before me is one of the loveseats, a pile of thick books stacked to the side. A dark-haired woman rests on the seat. I walk around to the front, the fire from the lit hearth licking up my side.

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