Page 20 of The Enchanted Frost

“Please—” It was all she managed before the cold snatched the rest of her earnest plea.

I seized the match, disregarding any potential consequences of lighting a fire or its effects on my magic. Quickly, I gathered some dead leaves and brittle branches scattered near the entrance and in the corners by the rocks. Whether it was my urgency, familiarity with Blanche’s previous attempts to light a fire, or the peculiar weakening of my magic that allowed it, I managed to ignite the match on the first try. It crackled softly in the cold stillness, its amber glow spreading comforting rays across the cavern.

With the fire lit, I feared she might pull away from my touch as I wrapped her in the security of my embrace—a position I was slowly coming to cherish. Instead, she scooted closer. Though my cold body offered limited warmth, thefire gradually eased her shivers, warming her enough to eventually speak.

“When I asked to see your magic, I never expected to experience a storm like this; it seems it’s my fate to freeze after all.” The words were barely discernible through the chatter of her teeth.

I wanted to explain that the storm had slipped beyond my usual control and taken on a life of its own, but even after her imminent danger had passed now that we’d found shelter, my mind remained numb with shock, leaving me at a loss for how to solve this unexpected puzzle.

Silence enveloped us as we watched the storm rage, the only sounds the pounding of our hearts and the deafening rush of wind outside, its icy breath thwarted by the protective cavern walls. The small fire cast a flickering light, casting dancing shadows across the rough, uneven walls and forming a cocoon of warmth in the cold darkness.

I held Blanche close, my arms wrapped securely around her, my body a shield against the chill. At first, the heat of her body pressed against mine brought an unexpected discomfort, the warmth foreign to my frozen essence. But as I felt her shiver, that discomfort quickly gave way to a stronger desire to protect her. Each moment of contact further threatened my powers, yet I couldn't bring myself to let go.

She nestled into my chest, clutching the fabric of my cloak, her face pressed against my shoulder. Our breaths mingled, forming small clouds of condensation that quickly vanished in the cold air. Despite the weakening of my magic with each touch, I found myself gently rubbing her back, my hands moving in slow, soothing circles.

I could feel her steady pulse, a comforting rhythm that calmed my own. Her hair brushed against my chin and I buried my face against its softness, feeling a strange sense of peace. Among all my experiences throughout my expanse offorever, this moment was already the most precious—the puzzling reason for why almost as perplexing as the mystery of why my powers had left my control to create the storm.

As the fire crackled softly, its warm glow flickering across the cave, I watched Blanche slowly drift to sleep. Her breaths grew steady and deep, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Her eyelashes briefly fluttered before resting softly on her cheeks, a peaceful expression smoothing away her worries.

The firelight highlighted the delicate curve of her lips and the soft lines of her face. I marveled at her quiet beauty, feeling a swell of gratitude that she was here with me, safe and warm. The harsh storm outside seemed worlds away, unable to intrude on this moment. I hesitated only briefly before I couldn’t resist reaching for her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers.

Rather than pulling away, her hold curled around mine, causing my breath to hitch in surprise. This simple gesture ignited a deep, hidden part of me that until this moment I hadn't known existed. Instead of allowing this memory to blend with the others comprising my eternity, I tucked it away in its own special section of my heart, along with the other beautiful moments I’d experienced over the past couple of days.

As she slept in my arms, Blanche’s soft, rhythmic breathing drowned out the song of the storm that had once been my favorite sound. Her breaths provided a comforting assurance that for the moment she was still alive…even though each inhale and exhale meant one less breath left in her allotted time.

It took every ounce of discipline to shift my focus from her peaceful slumber to the troubling issue that something had gone terribly wrong with my magic. The thought of losing the power that not only brought me my greatest joybut also defined my very existence was unbearable. Without winter or my powers, I was nothing. Yet, amidst this crisis, I felt as if I was discovering something far more significant than anything I’d learned across the vast expanse of eternity.

As if to stoke this unrecognizable emotion gradually growing within, Blanche leaned further into me with a sleepy sigh that seemed to reach deep inside to curl around my heart. Our proximity made me acutely aware of every shiver that rippled over her and allowed me to monitor each visible breath that formed small clouds in the frigid air. Each of her shivers sent an unexpected pang through my heart, an unwanted reminder of how despite my secret wish, we were worlds apart.

I was growing far closer to her than was wise for someone whose lifespan was but a fleeting moment in my eternal existence. Yet, this attachment seemed to be developing beyond my control, much like my faltering powers that had created such a violent storm.

The undeniable truth remained: I had never desired to keep anyone alive as much as I wanted to protect her—the very woman whose death sentence it was my duty to fulfill. Was a fleeting love worth the cost of potentially losing my magic forever?

CHAPTER 10

Blanche

As I drifted in and out of sleep, I felt as if I were floating between worlds. The contrast between warmth and cold was disorienting—one moment I was enveloped in a comforting warmth that felt like a gentle embrace, the next I was plunged into a biting cold that cut through me like a knife. The two warred for dominance, blurring the lines between reality and dreams and rousing me from my peaceful rest.

With an effort, I forced my eyes to flutter open, my lashes heavy with the remnants of sleep. The world around me gradually came into focus, but the lingering sensation of warmth and cold remained, as if I were still teetering on the edge of that strange, dreamlike state.

When some of the foggy confusion cleared, I slowly took in my surroundings—not the abandoned alley I half-expected given the coldness gripping me, nor even the ice palace that I was slowly accepting as reality…but a cavern with jagged stone walls, dimly lit by the dying embers of a nearby fire. The scent of earth and wood smoke mingled with the crispness of the snowstorm that raged just beyond the entrance, its muted roar outside filling the night.

For a moment, my mind was blank, struggling to grasp where I was or how I’d ended up in this unfamiliar place. The cavern seemed to close in on me, the echo of the storm outside amplifying my confusion.

My breath caught in my throat and I struggled to sit up, only to realize I couldn’t move far—something, or rathersomeone, was holding me close, their strong arms wrapped protectively around my shivering frame. I fully awakened, and a flush of awareness swept over me: Frost—the mystical winter being whose duty was to capture my soul—was cradling me in his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

My pulse quickened, a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and an overwhelming sense of comfort. How had we ended up like this? I searched my foggy memory for answers but found only fragments—the bitter cold of the raging snowstorm, the desperate need for shelter, the shared embrace for warmth—nothing that explained how we’d come to be entwined in such an intimate way.

Every detail of Frost’s proximity flooded my senses, grounding me in the reality of the moment—the outline of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the scent of a crisp winter day, the temperature that was neither warm nor completely cold, the cradle of his arms that protected me from the raging storm outside.

As the confusion of waking in an unknown place slowly ebbed away, a different kind of awareness settled over me—a deep, unspoken connection that I had never imagined I’d experience with anyone, let alone with the mystical being who was becoming more and more dear. I hesitated, deliberating on whether or not to pull away, before I couldn’t resistthe urge to lean into him and let myself be held just a little longer.

I dared to glance up at him, my eyes tracing his face softened by the dim light. He was still asleep, his expression relaxed. I could feel the gentle thrum of his heartbeat against my back, a steady rhythm that anchored me. The sight of him so close and his reassuring presence made my heart ache with an unfamiliar tenderness. I studied his features relaxed in sleep, realizing that his was probably the last face I’d ever see, his arms the last that would embrace me as my life wound to its conclusion.

The once-unfathomable reality of being in Frost’s domain now seemed almost tangible, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the small miracle of warmth amidst the icy splendor. The fire was a stark contrast to the frost-laden surroundings, its flames casting a soft, golden glow that danced across the ice-encrusted walls, making them shimmer like jewels; the light seemed to reach across the divide between his world and mine, creating a sanctuary where warmth could exist, even in the heart of winter.

It wasn’t just the flickering fire, but the very fact that he had built it just for me. Despite the cold that defined his existence, Frost, the embodiment of winter itself, had gone against his intrinsic nature to offer me this warmth, a silent acknowledgment of my humanity in a realm where such softness had no place. In that moment, the fire wasn’t just a source of heat; it was a symbol of the care he had begun to show for me, an effort to bridge the gap between our worlds.

---