Elara's POV
The glowing footprints disappeared after the first mile.
I stopped, breathing hard, searching the white landscape for any sign of them. Nothing. Just endless snow and ice in every direction.
"Come back," I whispered. "Show me where to go."
Silence answered. Even the wind had stopped.
That's when I heard the screaming.
It came from everywhere at once—high-pitched wails that made my teeth hurt. I spun around, trying to find the source.
Ice wraiths poured over a nearby ridge like a frozen wave. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. Their transparent bodies glowed with sickly blue light as they rushed toward me.
"No, no, no!" I raised my hands and sent ice spikes flying.
I hit three wraiths. They dissolved into snow. But twenty more took their place.
I ran.
My feet pounded through the snow as the wraiths chased me. Their screams grew louder, closer. I could feel the cold of them at my back, reaching for me with ghostly hands.
One grabbed my shoulder. Pain exploded through my body—not heat, but cold so intense it felt like burning. I screamed and blasted it away with magic.
But more kept coming.
I stumbled into a narrow canyon between two ice cliffs and kept running. The walls rose on either side, trapping me. Stupid. I'd cornered myself.
The wraiths flooded into the canyon behind me.
I stopped running and turned to face them. If I was going to die, I'd die fighting.
"Come on!" I shouted, ice forming around both my hands. "Come and get me!"
They swarmed forward.
I unleashed everything I had. Ice exploded from me in all directions—spikes, walls, shards sharp as knives. Wraiths dissolved left and right, but there were too many. For every one I killed, two more appeared.
A wraith slammed into my chest. I fell backward into the snow, gasping. Cold spread through my body like poison. My vision started going dark.
This is it, I thought. This is how I die.
Then the canyon filled with light.
A wave of blue fire—actual fire made from ice—swept through the wraiths. They shrieked and vanished, dissolving like morning mist.
I looked up.
A figure stood at the canyon entrance, hand raised. The frozen man from my cave? No. Someone different. Taller. Stronger.
"Get up," a deep voice commanded.
I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't work. The wraith's touch had left me too weak.
The figure walked toward me. As he got closer, I saw he wore a thick cloak covered in ice crystals. His face was hidden by a hood.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
"Who... who are you?"
"Someone who just saved your life. Can you walk or not?"
I managed to get to my knees. "I think so."
"Good. More wraiths are coming. We need to move."
He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. His grip was strong, his hand cold even through my furs.
We ran together out of the canyon. Behind us, I heard more screaming. The wraiths were regrouping.
"There!" The man pointed to a crack in a cliff face. "Inside!"
We squeezed through the crack into a small cave. He made a gesture with his hand, and ice sealed the entrance behind us.
The wraith screams faded to distant wails.
I collapsed against the cave wall, shaking. "Thank you. You saved—"
"Don't thank me yet," he interrupted. "You're injured. Let me see."
He pushed back my furs to examine where the wraith had touched me. A black mark spread across my shoulder, frost patterns spreading out from it like a disease.
"Wraith poison," he muttered. "How long ago?"
"Just now. In the canyon."
"You're lucky. A few more seconds and it would have reached your heart." He pulled out a small vial from inside his cloak. "This will hurt."
He poured the liquid on my shoulder.
I bit back a scream as pain exploded through my body. The black mark hissed and steamed, then slowly faded.
When it was gone, I sagged with relief. "What was that?"
"Melted sunlight. Very rare. Very expensive." He corked the vial. "You owe me."
I looked up at him. His hood had fallen back, and I finally saw his face.
He was younger than I expected—maybe early thirties. Sharp features, pale skin, and eyes the color of storm clouds. Silver-white hair fell to his shoulders.
My breath caught.
"You're him," I whispered. "Caelan Frost."
His expression went cold. "How do you know my name?"
"Everyone knows your name. You're the Ice Sorcerer. The one who tried to kill the king."
"I see my reputation precedes me." He stood, creating distance between us. "And you are?"
I hesitated. Would he kill me if he knew I was a Winterborne?
But lying seemed pointless now. "Elara. Elara Winterborne."
The temperature in the cave dropped ten degrees instantly. Ice formed on the walls.
Caelan's hand shot out, and suddenly I was pinned against the wall by a blade of ice pressed to my throat.
"A Winterborne," he said softly, his voice deadly. "In my territory. Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."
"Because I was exiled!" I gasped. "Just like you! Varius framed me for using ice magic. My own sister betrayed me. They threw me into the Wastes to die!"
His eyes narrowed. "Lies. The Winterbornes don't exile their own."
"They exiled you, didn't they?"
That made him pause. The ice blade pressed harder against my throat.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Help," I said desperately. "I need help controlling my magic before it kills me. You're the only person who might understand what's happening."
"And why would I help the daughter of the man who destroyed my life?"
"Because I can prove you're innocent!" I said quickly. "Varius framed you twenty years ago, the same way he framed me. He's behind everything—the eternal winter, the curse, all of it. Help me take back my throne, and I'll clear your name. I'll give you back everything you lost."
Caelan stared at me for a long moment. I couldn't read his expression.
Then he laughed—a cold, bitter sound that echoed off the cave walls.
"Clear my name? Give me back what I lost?" He lowered the ice blade but didn't step back. "You have no idea what you're offering, little princess. No idea what I've lost or what I've become."
"Then tell me," I said.
"Why should I trust you? Your father sent me to die in these wastes. Your family took everything from me. For all I know, this is another Winterborne trap."
"If I wanted to trap you, I'd have brought an army, not collapsed half-dead at your feet!" I pulled down my furs, showing him the blue veins spreading across my skin. "Look at me! I'm turning into a monster. The magic is consuming me. I have maybe weeks before I lose myself completely."
He studied the veins, his expression unreadable.
"Please," I whispered. "I have nothing left. No crown, no family, no home. Just this curse eating me alive. You're my last hope."
The silence stretched between us.
Finally, Caelan spoke. "If I agree to this—and I'm not saying I will—I have one condition."
"Anything."
"If you betray me, if you lie to me, if you prove to be like the rest of your cursed family..." His eyes locked with mine. "I will kill you myself. Slowly. Do you understand?"
I nodded. "I understand."
"Good." He turned toward the sealed cave entrance. "We'll wait here until the wraiths disperse. Then you're coming to my fortress. But know this, Princess—"
He looked back at me, and his eyes glowed with cold blue light.
"—the moment I suspect you're using me, the moment I think this is a trick, you're dead. Trust is earned in the Frost Wastes, and you haven't earned mine yet."
"Fair enough," I said.
He made a gesture, and the ice sealing the entrance melted slightly, letting in cold air.
Outside, the wraith screams had stopped. But they'd been replaced by something worse.
A deep, rumbling roar that shook the ground beneath us.
Caelan's expression went dark. "No. Not here. Not now."
"What is that?" I asked.
"The reason nobody survives this deep in the Wastes." He grabbed my arm. "We need to move. Now."
"What's out there?"
He looked at me, and I saw something I never expected to see in the Ice Sorcerer's eyes.
Fear.
"The Frost King," he said. "And if it's woken, we're both dead."