13. Jack
Chapter thirteen
Jack
S omething is different today.
Through the window of my study, movement catches my eye. Down in the courtyard, Violet kneels beside one of the frozen fountains, her hand hovering over something at its base.
What is she doing now?
I materialize outside, staying in the shadows of a nearby archway. The usual pristine blanket of snow appears... softer somehow. Not melting, but transformed. Small clusters of frost flowers—delicate crystalline blooms that only form in the most precise conditions—dot the courtyard where there were none before.
My boots crunch across the snow as I investigate. The air itself feels charged, alive in a way I haven’t experienced in centuries.
A flash of movement catches my eye—Violet walking among the ice sculptures, trailing her fingers along their surfaces. Wherever she touches, the ice takes on an opalescent sheen, as if responding to her presence.
My chest tightens. She hasn’t noticed me yet, too absorbed in her exploration. The way she moves through my realm, it’s as if... as if she belongs here. The thought sends a jolt of panic through me.
“What are you doing?” My voice comes out sharper than intended.
Violet spins around, her cheeks flushed from the cold despite the elixir’s protection. “Oh! You’re back. What was happening at the border?”
“Nothing of importance.” I step closer, watching her face for any hint of deception. “The eastern border guards were overzealous in their reporting. A minor magical disturbance, nothing more.”
Her presence here unsettles me. The way she moves through my domain with such casual defiance, as if the bitter cold means nothing. Changing things.
Even now, watching her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, I feel my carefully maintained control slipping. Each time she speaks, each movement she makes, it chips away at the walls I’ve built over centuries of isolation. Fucking hell, I need to maintain my distance.
“You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing?”
“Looking at the sculptures. They’re beautiful.”
“You shouldn’t touch them. ”
“Why not? I’m not damaging anything.” She presses her palm flat against the nearest sculpture—a towering griffin. The ice beneath her hand begins to glow with a soft, pearl-like luminescence.
I stride forward and grab her wrist, pulling it away. “Stop.”
“What’s your problem?” She yanks free of my grip. “The ice likes it. Can’t you feel it?”
That’s exactly what terrifies me. The ice doesn’t just like her presence—it’s responding to her, changing in ways I’ve never seen before. The prophecy’s words echo in my mind:
When mortal love meets ancient frost, The old ways crumble into dust.
“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 seems to 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. But I 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 the courtyard. Snow clings to her dark hair, melting slowly—a reminder of how she doesn’t belong here.
“You wanted to chat?” She gives me a curious look.
I don’t have time for idle conversation. The ancient words won’t leave my thoughts. She’s just one woman. One life weighed against thousands.
My jaw clenches as I force down the guilt rising in my chest. I’ve spent centuries building this kingdom, protecting my people. I won’t let her destroy it all. The facade of the heartless Winter King must hold, even as something deep inside me rebels against causing her pain.
“Your presence is destroying everything.” I keep my voice cold, distant. “The ice responds to you in ways that threaten the very foundation of this realm.”
Her eyes narrow. “That’s not—”
“You think those frost flowers are beautiful? They’re a sign of decay. Of weakness.” I turn my back to her, unable to watch her expression. “You’re exactly what the prophecy warned about. A poison slowly corrupting my kingdom.”
“Jack—”
“I won’t let you ruin centuries of tradition because you stumbled into a world you don’t understand.” My hands grip the edge of my desk. “You are nothing more than an unfortunate accident. A mistake I intend to correct.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken words. When she finally speaks, her voice wavers.
“You don’t mean that.”
I force myself to continue facing her, channeling every bit of winter’s cruelty into my gaze. “I do. You’re not welcome here. Not in my castle, not in my realm, and certainly not in my life.”
Tears freeze on her cheeks—actual ice crystals forming from her pain. Something inside me fractures at the sight, but I push through.
“The servants will move your things to the west wing. Until we find a way to send you back, stay away from me.”
She takes a step backward, then another, her arms wrapping around herself like armor. Without another word, she turns and flees.
The temperature in my office plummets. Ice creeps across the walls, spreading in jagged patterns that reflect my inner turmoil. Gabriel clears his throat. He stands in the opposite doorway from the one Violet fled through.
“Well done, Your Majesty.” His voice carries an odd note of satisfaction. “Sometimes cruelty is necessary to maintain order.”
I glance at him, catching something unfamiliar in his expression. But before I can question it, he bows and leaves me alone with the consequences of my choice.
This is what’s best for the kingdom , I tell myself.
But the words ring hollow, like lies whispered in the dark.