Chapter 2
"Pleasure can be a weapon. So can love. And sometimes… they're the same thing."
---
The dream returned.
Lucien stood in a field of black roses, their petals sharp like glass. Snow fell, slow and warm. The sky was red. At the center of it all—a throne made of bone and ice.
On it sat a girl.
Her face was hidden by a veil of frost. But her voice... was all too familiar.
"They'll all love you," she said softly. "But they won't all survive it."
---
The Snow Palace – Morning
Lucien woke drenched in sweat.
His sheets clung to him like memory. The mark on his chest was glowing again—more fiercely than ever before.
The air around him trembled with cold, yet beneath his skin pulsed warmth he hadn't known before.
He wasn't alone.
Someone was watching him.
Slowly, his eyes moved.
Kaela.
She leaned against the doorframe of his bedchamber, arms crossed, lips curled into a smirk. Her loose tunic did little to hide the curve of her hips, the defined lines of her legs, or the flame in her gaze.
"You moan in your sleep, Frosty."
Lucien scowled. "Get out."
She ignored him and stepped inside, closing the door with a quiet click.
"You've been avoiding me."
"I've been busy."
Kaela sat at the edge of his bed, uninvited. "So has that pretty little ice-priestess you rescued. She's clinging to you like spring clings to thaw."
Lucien sighed. "You jealous?"
Kaela laughed—a low, sultry sound. "Not at all."
She leaned forward, fingers tracing a lazy line across his bare chest. "I just don't like sharing… what hasn't been claimed yet."
---
He should've pushed her hand away.
But he didn't.
Kaela was fire incarnate—reckless, wild, unfiltered. And in that moment, her touch was the only warmth he wanted.
She straddled him before he could stop her, hands sliding along his shoulders, lips just inches from his.
"I burn everything I touch," she whispered.
"Good," Lucien breathed, grabbing her by the waist. "I'm done freezing."
Their lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
It was hunger.
Two broken souls tasting danger and defiance in each other.
Her tunic dropped to the floor. His breath caught in his throat—not from nerves, but from awe. She was carved like war and art—scarred, hardened, yet still heartbreakingly beautiful.
Lucien's hands slid across her skin, learning her story through every mark and moan.
The bed shifted. The snow outside grew heavier.
And still, neither of them stopped.
Not until her name echoed like a cry through the frost.
---
Later…
Kaela lay beside him, chest rising slowly, cheeks flushed. Her fingers traced idle circles on his chest, softer now.
Lucien stared at the ceiling, heart still racing.
"You always do that when you're angry?" he asked.
She smirked sleepily. "Only with men worth the risk."
They both chuckled.
But before silence could settle, a cold voice rang from the shadows.
"…I see the assassin finally made her move."
Lucien sat up instantly.
Seris.
She stood by the door, eyes unreadable, lips tight.
Kaela didn't even flinch. "Jealous, priestess?"
Seris turned her gaze to Lucien. "You're free to do as you please. But don't forget—your soul isn't just yours anymore."
Lucien stood, pulling on his cloak. "What do you mean?"
Seris stepped forward. "The Pale King has moved."
He stiffened.
"His army approaches. Twenty leagues away. And you—" her eyes flicked to Kaela—"are wasting time in pleasure while he sharpens his blade."
---
The Ice Hall – Minutes Later
The Queen stood beside the frozen map-table, her fingers dancing across glowing runes as storm clouds rolled above the palace.
"Three days," she said. "That's how long we have."
Lucien entered the chamber, the snow still clinging to his skin.
"We don't need three."
Everyone turned to him.
Kaela followed, cloak barely wrapped around her, amused and unashamed.
Seris stood opposite her, silent, cold, and watching every movement Lucien made.
The Queen's gaze lingered on him longer than usual.
"You've changed," she murmured.
Lucien's eyes burned.
"No. I've awakened."
He stepped forward and laid his palm on the map. The snow around the palace responded instantly—rising like living blades.
"We fight," he said.
---
Far Beyond – The Pale King's Camp
The wind howled through the army of frostbound dead. The Pale King's blade gleamed in his skeletal hand.
"Let them prepare," he whispered to the dark sky.
"Let him kiss. Let him touch. Let him believe love will save him."
He smiled beneath a helm of bone.
"Because when I take everything he cherishes... only then will he become mine."
"In war, love becomes a weapon. In desire… a throne."
---
Night fell in silence.
But within the palace walls, storms brewed louder than the ones outside.
Lucien stood alone on the balcony, the wind brushing against his bare skin beneath the fur cloak. The air was heavy with cold… and memory.
Kaela had already left.
The warmth they'd shared lingered like an ember buried beneath snow. But his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
To her.
---
Seris.
She hadn't spoken to him since this morning. Not since she walked in.
But now, as if drawn by something unspoken, Lucien heard the soft sound of feet behind him.
He didn't turn. He already knew it was her.
"…You should sleep," he said.
"I couldn't," Seris replied. Her voice was calm, but something beneath it trembled.
A long pause.
Then, "Do you regret it?"
Lucien closed his eyes.
"I don't regret anything… But I didn't expect you to look at me like that."
She came closer.
"You think I was angry."
He turned finally—only to find her face so close, her eyes glimmering beneath the moonlight.
"I wasn't angry, Lucien," she whispered.
"I was jealous."
---
The world seemed to still.
Lucien didn't breathe.
Seris reached up and touched his face—delicately, as though he were sacred or dangerous.
"Since I opened my eyes in your arms… you've haunted me."
Lucien's pulse surged.
"You barely know me."
Her fingers slid down to his chest, where the mark pulsed.
"I know what you carry. I know you'll destroy this world… or rebuild it."
She leaned in, forehead brushing his.
"I want to be there when you do either."
---
He should've stepped back.
But he didn't.
His hands found her waist, slow and searching. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned forward—eyes locked with hers, not asking, not begging.
Just... waiting.
She closed the distance.
Their lips met.
---
Her kiss was nothing like Kaela's.
Kaela was fire, teeth, challenge.
But Seris… was moonlight.
Her lips were soft, reverent, trembling. A girl touching something divine—and daring to fall with it.
Lucien guided her inside without breaking the kiss. The snow outside howled, but here in his chamber, there was only breath and heartbeat.
Her gown slipped to the floor like silk. She stood in the candlelight, bathed in magic and desire, her eyes never leaving his.
"I'm not yours yet," she whispered.
"But I want to be."
Lucien stepped closer. "Then take me."
---
Their bodies met slowly—
Soft. Shivering. Deep.
He memorized her with touch.
She memorized him with silence.
Her nails curled into his back, her voice trembling against his ear as she whispered his name over and over like a prayer.
And when they collapsed into the furs, tangled in sweat and sighs, he realized something:
This wasn't conquest.
It was surrender.
And it terrified him more than war.
---
Later – Afterglow
They lay entangled, silent. Seris rested her head on his chest, fingers drawing idle runes into his skin.
"You're not alone anymore," she said softly.
Lucien stared at the ceiling.
"I'm scared."
She smiled faintly. "Good. That means your heart still works."
---
Elsewhere – In the Throne Room
The Snow Queen watched the storm approach beyond her tower.
She had felt both Kaela and Seris cross into Lucien's orbit.
She had allowed it.
But her eyes were colder now. Sharper.
"They're falling in love with him," she said aloud.
A shadow behind her whispered, "And what will you do, my Queen?"
She turned slowly.
"…I'll remind them who touched his soul first."
---
Far North – The Pale King's Advance
The frost-army marched.
But not in silence.
They now carried banners of black roses and silver thorns—symbols of the Sovereign Reborn.
"Let them fall in love with him," the Pale King said, riding a skeletal beast. "Let them give him everything."
He grinned beneath his helm.
"Because I will take it all."
"Even snow can burn—if the heart behind it beats hard enough."
---
The palace was no longer silent.
Whispers passed through corridors. Footsteps quickened. And eyes now lingered longer on Lucien Frostveil than they ever had before.
They knew.
Everyone knew.
Two women had fallen for the same man.
And neither was backing down.
---
Seris stood by the training grounds, watching Lucien spar with enchanted blades and frost-bound spirits. Her lips curled in a soft, secret smile.
He moved like winter in motion—precise, beautiful, deadly.
Her body still ached with memory. But her heart… it beat stronger now.
"He's changed," she murmured to herself. "And he's changing everything."
---
Kaela wasn't far.
Leaning on a pillar, arms crossed, her cloak fluttering with the wind. Her lips still held that cocky grin—but her eyes? Watching. Reading.
She saw the look Seris gave him.
She remembered giving that same look.
Damn it.
She hated losing.
Especially to someone who whispered love instead of biting it.
---
That evening – Queen's Garden of Eternal Bloom
Lucien had been summoned.
He arrived to find the garden alive with frost-lilies and ethereal white roses, each glowing softly beneath floating lanterns.
And there… she stood.
The Snow Queen.
Not in robes of command. Not in armor or crystal crowns.
But in a long silver gown, low-cut and sleeveless, with a shimmer that clung like starlight to her skin.
Lucien froze.
"You called for me."
"I did," she said, voice soft. "But not as your queen."
She turned slowly, her hair spilling down her back like liquid ice. Her expression was unreadable.
"I called you as a woman."
---
The garden air grew heavy.
"I've watched you grow, Lucien," she whispered. "You've changed more in a week than most do in lifetimes. You walk with confidence. You kiss with heat. You make those around you burn."
Lucien stepped closer. "And what do you want?"
She met his eyes.
"To remember that I, too, was once fire… before I froze myself for this throne."
Her hand lifted slowly—resting over his heart.
Her fingers were cold. Her touch… not.
"Let me feel something again."
Lucien's breath hitched.
He cupped her hand, not pulling away.
"You're the Snow Queen," he said. "You shouldn't need anyone."
"I don't."
She stepped closer. "But I want you anyway."
---
Their kiss was unlike the others.
Not rushed like Kaela.
Not gentle like Seris.
It was deep, commanding, and intimate in its restraint.
It was the kiss of a queen who'd waited a century to feel again.
Lucien slid his hands across her waist, fingers tracing the cool silk of her gown. She sighed softly—like snow melting under sunlight.
And when he lifted her, carrying her to the crystal bench hidden behind the frost-vines, she didn't resist.
---
Later – The Afterglow
She lay against him, gown loosened, her skin glowing with cold magic that pulsed with satisfaction.
Lucien stroked her thigh slowly.
"You let your guard down," he whispered.
She smiled faintly, eyes half-closed. "I didn't. I gave it to you willingly."
---
Elsewhere – Seris's Chambers
Seris sat cross-legged in silence, sensing it.
The shift in magic. The touch of intimacy drawn through the mark that linked them.
She looked away.
"…He's with her."
---
Kaela, meanwhile, was halfway through a bottle of firewine, laughing alone on the balcony.
"Tch. Damn royalty and their midnight games."
She tossed the bottle into the snow, where it exploded in a cloud of steam.
Still…
She couldn't stop thinking about him.
---
Far North – The Pale King's Legion
"Three hearts have been given to him," the Pale King whispered to the shadows.
"Soon, he'll bleed from them all."
A dark maiden stepped from behind him—her eyes glowing violet, her lips crimson, her power unmistakable.
"Shall I be the fourth?" she purred.
The Pale King nodded.
"Yes. Go. Seduce him. Poison him. Or love him."
He smiled cruelly.
"Whatever breaks him fastest."
---
To Be Continued…