CHAPTER 21: THE ARAGÒNS

I hoisted the unconscious girl onto my back, her weight lighter than it should have been, a painful reminder of how frail she was. "Follow me," I urged the other girl, my voice firm despite the chaos swirling inside me. The phoenix soared overhead, a silent guardian, its fiery plumage lighting our path as we ran toward the house. My breath came in ragged bursts, the cold biting at my skin, but I didn't stop.

The moment we stepped inside, warmth engulfed us. A stark contrast to the ice in my veins.

"Jack, where have—" My mother's voice trailed off as she caught sight of the limp girl on my back. Her face pale with shock. "The Aragòn twins? What happened?"

I barely had the breath to respond, but I recounted everything, my voice strained. The conscious twin, still weeping beside me. Without hesitation, Mother called for Father, who emerged from his workshop, wiping his hands. His eyes widened.

"The Aragòns? What happened to you?" His voice held urgency as he reached for the unconscious girl, carefully placing her in the bed by the fireplace. Mother pressed a hot cloth to her forehead, the heat chasing away the lingering cold that clung to her skin.

Aragòn. The name nagged at me, familiar yet distant. But my thoughts shattered when Mother turned to the crying girl.

"Are you okay, Zelda?" she asked the conscious twin, her tone gentle, her eyes full of empathy. It was as if she could ever tell them apart.

Zelda nodded quickly, wiping at her tears. But I knew better. Her tiny hands were trembling, fingers stiff from the cold. Wordlessly, I pried my muttons from her grip, revealing reddened, frostbitten skin.

Mother sighed, shaking her head. "You almost lost your hands to frostbite," she murmured, guiding Zelda's hands into a basin of warm water before tending to them.

A knock came at the door, sharp and hurried.

As soon as I opened it, Zelda darted past me, flinging herself into Novalie's arms. "Big sis! Zoey…she…she—" Her voice broke, and the rest of her words drowned in her sobs. Her small frame shook as she clung desperately to Novalie.

Novalie knelt, her own face twisting with worry as she smoothed Zelda's hair. "It's okay, Zelda. Breathe. Tell me slowly."

Zelda hiccupped through her tears, her voice trembling as she recounted what happened. As the words spilled from her, Novalie's eyes filled with tears.

"Jack… if it weren't for you, she might have—"

I reached out, gripping her hand. "It's okay, Novalie. We're like family."

Then it hit me. That name. Aragòn. I remembered now. It was back in the cave when Novalie introduced herself.

A soft groan from the bed pulled all eyes to Zoey. Her lashes fluttered, a weak breath escaping her lips before her eyes slowly opened. "Zelda…?" her voice rasped.

"Zoey!" Zelda and Novalie rushed to her, gripping her hands tightly. Zelda's tears returned, but this time, relief shone through them.

Mother smiled gently. "You're awake, sweetheart. Don't push yourself too hard." She carefully adjusted the cloth on Zoey's forehead, brushing damp strands of hair from her face.

Father exhaled, arms crossed. "She's okay. That's a relief."

Darkness fell outside, and the fire's warm glow filled the room. The fire crackled, its glow licking at the wooden walls. Mother disappeared into the kitchen, returning with bowls of steaming stew. The rich scent filled the room, and for the first time in hours, hunger became undeniable.

Mother bowed her head, whispering a quiet prayer, not just for the meal before her, but for the twins survival.

"Eat. All of you. It'll help."

We sat in a quiet circle, letting the warmth of the meal chase away the lingering fear. Zelda kept glancing at Zoey, as if afraid she'd vanish again. Novalie sat beside them, feeding Zoey small bites since she was too weak to hold the spoon herself.

Then, another knock.

Firm. Deliberate.

The room tensed. A presence that didn't belong.

Father and Mother exchanged a glance before he stood, moving toward the door. When it creaked open, a woman stood there, regal and imposing, dressed in fine clothes, her posture stiff with authority. Snow did not cling to her fur-lined cloak, as if she had stepped from a carriage rather than trudged through the village roads. Her sharp gaze swept across the room, landing on the twins.

Novalie stiffened. "Mother?"

The woman cleared her throat, her voice smooth and cold. "Naomi. Logan. It's been a while. I've come for the twins."

Mother's eyes darkened. "Anastasia, do you even realize you almost lost one of them to the snow?"

The woman's frown deepened as she stepped inside uninvited. "Excuse me?"

Then, a sharp crack.

A slap.

The air turned to ice.

"Didn't I tell you to look after them? You ungrateful brat! Were you trying to kill them off?!" Anastasia's voice sliced through the air, her rage palpable.

Novalie held her cheek, her expression unreadable. She didn't cry. As if she was used to it.

The silence was suffocating. The fire still crackled, but its warmth had vanished.

Rage burned in my chest.

Then, another slap echoed.

But this time, it was Mother.

"You march into my home, lay your hands on a child in front of me, and think you can walk out unscathed? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Anastasia's anger flared. "Let's go, twins," she commanded, moving towards the door.

Zelda clung to Zoey, her small fingers digging in. Even in her weakened state, Zoey tightened her grip in return.

Something was wrong.

I moved without thinking, stepping in front of the twins and Novalie, spreading my arms protectively.

Anastasia's lips curled. "And what is this? A bad day? First my daughters nearly freeze to death, then this witch slaps me, and now their little stray stands in my way?" Her glare burned into me.

"Jack, let them go," my father said.

I stood firm, ignoring his words.

He sighed. "Jack," his voice softened, "at the end of the day…she's still their mother."

A flashback of Titus forcing his own flash and blood, to fight to the death played in my mind. I remembered the cold cruelty in his eyes as he called himself our father.

My fingers curled into fists.

I inhaled deeply.

"I see," I muttered, stepping aside.