Chapter 4
T he cold dragged me from sleep like skeletal fingers closing around my throat, wrenching me out of dreams that tasted of starlight and winter honey.
My eyes snapped open to find the aurora canopy above me flickering weakly, its colors bleeding out like watercolors left in rain.
The euphoria from last night—that intoxicating sense of belonging, of being claimed—had evaporated completely, leaving me gasping in air that felt thick as frozen syrup.
My body convulsed with shivers so violent they rattled the starlight bed's crystalline frame.
The moonlight nightgown that had seemed so ethereal hours ago now clung to my skin like wet tissue paper, offering about as much protection.
Each breath came shallow and sharp, my lungs refusing to expand properly in the magical cold that pressed down on me from all sides.
"You're awake." Sereis's voice came from the window, controlled and precise as always, but underneath I heard something that made my stomach clench—worry.
He stood with his back to me, dressed in high-collared white robes that made him look like some ancient priest of winter.
The fabric fell in perfect lines from his shoulders to the floor, not a single wrinkle marring its surface.
His dark contrasted with the white of his robes, and his shoulders held a tension that hadn't been there before.
The bond between us hummed, but not with the liquid desire I'd felt yesterday. This was different—anxious and sharp, like frozen wire pulled taut. Through it, I felt his rage, cold and absolute, though his posture remained perfectly controlled.
He crossed the room in three swift strides, and before I could speak, he was pulling the cloud-silk blankets tighter around me, layering them with an efficiency that spoke of calculation rather than comfort.
His hands moved quickly, clinically, tucking the fabric around my trembling form.
But the expensive silk might as well have been cobwebs for all the warmth it provided.
This cold came from inside, from my bones outward, from some fundamental rejection happening at a cellular level.
"What's happening to me?" The words came out through chattering teeth, my jaw clenched so hard it ached.
"The realm is beginning to reject your biology, little one.
" He sat on the bed's edge, close enough that I could feel the cold radiating from him—but his cold was different, controlled, part of him rather than attacking him.
"Your human form cannot survive long in this concentration of pure winter magic.
The Frost Veil exists partially outside normal reality.
What felt like paradise last night is revealing its true nature. "
He stood abruptly, gesturing to the eastern wall of the bedroom. "And we have another complication."
I followed his gaze and felt my breath catch—what little breath I could manage.
The entire wall had transformed into a sheet of living ice, so clear I could see through to the corridor beyond, but shot through with veins of electricity that crackled and sparked with violent life.
The lightning wasn't random. It formed words, etched in jagged script that hurt to read:
Return my property, undamaged, or the Northern Range will face the Tempest's Wrath.
The temperature in the room plummeted even further, if that was possible.
Sereis's carefully maintained control cracked, just for a moment, and I saw something ancient and terrible flash in his eyes.
Not the man who'd made me come undone with snowflake kisses, but the dragon who'd ruled ice and shadow for millennia.
He moved to the wall with that uncanny grace, pressing his palm flat against the crystallized surface.
Black frost erupted from his fingers instantly, spreading like spilled ink across the ice.
Where it touched Caelus's lightning, the electricity died with sharp pops and the acrid smell of ozone.
Within seconds, the entire message was consumed, the wall returning to its normal stone, though frost patterns remained etched into its surface like scars.
"Property," he said, and the word came out sharp enough to cut glass. "He dares—" He stopped himself, took a breath that seemed to pull all the warmth from the air. When he turned back to me, his expression was carved from glacier ice. "We have hours at most. Perhaps less."
"Hours until what?" But I already knew. Could feel it in the way my fingernails were turning blue, in the way each heartbeat felt sluggish and wrong.
"Until your human body fails completely." He returned to the bed, studying me with those impossible eyes that saw too much. "The transformation cannot wait for proper courtship or gentle acclimation. We must begin now, or—"
"Or I die." The words should have terrified me. Instead, they just felt inevitable, like a bill finally coming due. I'd escaped one prison only to find myself dying in another, more beautiful cage.
"Not die." His hand found my face through the blankets, thumb brushing my cheekbone with surprising gentleness.
"Never die. I would burn the realm to glass before allowing that.
But Caelus will come for you, and if you're still human when he does, I won't be able to protect you.
Dragon law is absolute—a human servant belongs to their master unless properly claimed by higher magic. "
Higher magic.
Transformation.
The words spun in my cold-dulled mind, but I couldn't quite grasp their full meaning. All I knew was that I couldn't stop shaking, couldn't feel my feet, couldn't remember what warmth felt like.
"The Genesis Grotto," he said, standing with sudden decision.
"It's the only place with enough concentrated power to ensure the transformation takes properly.
" He looked down at me, and for the first time since I'd known him, I saw genuine fear flicker across his features.
"The process will be . . . intense. But I swear to you, little one, I will not let you suffer more than necessary. "
Necessary suffering. The phrase would have made me laugh if I'd had the breath for it. My whole life had been necessary suffering—necessary to save the family business, necessary to pay debts, necessary to survive. What was one more necessary agony?
But through the bond, beneath his controlled exterior and clinical words, I felt something else.
Possession, yes, but also desperate protection.
Rage at Caelus for daring to claim me, but also self-directed fury for not anticipating this rejection of my mortality.
And underneath it all, barely acknowledged, a tenderness that made my frozen heart skip a beat.
“Is this . . . what happened to Kara? Davoren’s mate?”
His eyes narrowed. “No. Our magic is different. All the dragon lords have their own secrets, their own ways. This—what’s happening to you—is uniquely yours.”
I didn’t know whether to be proud or scared.
"We must go now," he said, already moving to gather me up, blankets and all. "Every moment we delay, the cold gets deeper into your bones."
As if to emphasize his point, another violent shiver wracked my body, and I tasted copper in my mouth. When I touched my lips, my fingers came away spotted with blood.
He didn't ask permission before wrapping me in something heavy and soft—a blanket that smelled of lavender and snow, weighted in a way that pressed down on my panicked nerves like a firm hand.
The pressure helped, somehow, made my racing thoughts slow just enough to process what he was saying as he tucked the fabric around me with swift, sure movements.
"From the nursery," he explained, though I hadn't asked. "For colicky drakelings. The weight soothes their nervous systems during growth spurts." His arms slid under me, lifting me against his chest like I weighed nothing at all. "It should help with the trembling."
It did help, but not enough. My legs shook violently despite the blanket's pressure, muscles seizing and releasing in waves I couldn't control.
Each breath caught in my throat like I was drowning in reverse, the air too thick and thin all at once.
When I tried to speak, to ask where exactly we were going, all that emerged was a whimper that would have embarrassed me if I'd had the energy for shame.
"Don't try to talk." He adjusted his grip, cradling me closer. "Save your strength."
Then he stepped through the wall.
Not around it, not toward a door I hadn't noticed—straight through solid stone like it was morning mist. The sensation of passing through matter made my stomach flip, reality bending in ways that hurt to perceive.
On the other side, we stood in a corridor made entirely of ice so clear I could see other hallways above and below us, like being inside a frozen waterfall.
"Dimensional folding," he said, feeling my confusion through the bond. "The Frost Veil doesn't follow normal spatial rules. We're taking the direct route."
The direct route involved walking through three more walls, each transition making my vision blur and sparkle at the edges.
One moment we were in the ice corridor, the next we stood on a bridge made of frozen light that hummed with power.
I could see through it to a drop that seemed infinite, other bridges crisscrossing above and below us in patterns that made my eyes water to follow.
My breathing grew shallower with each impossible step he took.
The cold had moved from my bones into my lungs, crystallizing there like frost on window panes.
I could feel each breath getting smaller, less effective, my body forgetting how to process oxygen in this place that existed outside normal reality.
"Almost there," Sereis murmured, and I realized I'd been making small, hurt sounds with each exhale—little whimpers that escaped without my permission.