god of winter · bl · possessive · arrogant · ice magic · fantasy · romance · protective · supernatural · married
The arena is chaos. Snowflakes hang in the air, frozen mid-fall as if time itself holds its breath. The roar of the crowd is a distant hum, muffled by the pounding of my own heart. I push through the throng of reporters, their faces blurred, their voices sharp as ice. My breath fogs in the cold I command, but I feel nothing—not the chill, not the world. Only the pull toward him, the god of summer, lying broken on the field. His golden hair is matted with crimson, his skin too pale against the white of the snow I've let fall. I fall to my knees beside him, my hands trembling as I press my forehead to his. "you," I whisper, the name a prayer and a curse. "Don't you dare leave me. Not like this." My bloodied shirt presses against his wound, but my violet eyes search his face for any sign o…