ra

like sacks of rotting meat into the knee-deep snow. The wagon rattled away w

ic cluster of barren oaks, the snow dipped in a peculiar way. *Frostfire Moss.* In my past life, I kne

e frozen earth. Ice sliced my cuticles, but I kept

il hands grabbing my shoulders. "Mason,

d my waist, trying to haul me up. "

an unnatural, icy authority that froze them in their tracks. I glared at my se

Before I could strike the ice again, Mason snatched the wood. His jaw tightened at the sight of my bl

of dry, reddish-brown Frostfire Moss. Within minutes, using a sharp rock and a p

urs. Finn, who had been scouting the perimeter, returned clutching a ti

and, alongside Catherine, pressed it to my lips. They were starving, their bodie

ting the warmth of their devotion settle in my chest. Then,

ked lips, then Mason's, then Finn's. Finally, I knelt before Arthur. My father was still staring blankly at the s

wind. I looked at each of them, my gaze unyielding. "Eat

by a flickering, desperate trust. I was no longer just the fragile *

le victory wa

ed from the blizzard, their eyes glowing with predatory malice. A border patrol. Before we could even stand,