To Tame a Winter Wolf: Chapter 1
The snow never truly melted in Skadi territory. It only changed texture. Some mornings it was powder—light, glittering like crushed diamonds beneath the pale sun. Other days it hardened into glass, sharp enough to slice skin if you fell wrong. Today it was the heavy kind, wet and clinging, the sort that soaked through wool and made you question every choice that had led you to this moment. I stabbed the shovel into a drift taller than my hip and glared at it as if it had personally offended me. “I hate you,” I informed the snow. The snow, like most things in my life, did not care to fight back at me. It never did. Two years. Two years since they had dragged me from the smoking ruins of my father’s castle. Two years since the war had ended. Two years since the Mad King—my father—had be
- Writer
