COLD

Chapter 13

Stephan wanted to roar. He wanted to let the furnace raging in his chest tear free in a scream of pure fury. Instead, he forced himself to remain utterly composed, every muscle locked in rigid control. The weight of his stolen past pressed down on him like gravity, but this new truth about Hildegard — her existence as a clone — felt like an anchor dragging him into black depths.

He locked his steel-grey eyes onto Xander. “Why would Rheinhard’s father clone a child?” His voice was dangerously quiet.

Polaris spoke first, her tone calm but edged with horror. “What purpose could justify something so grotesque?”

Xander exhaled a fractured sigh, his breath forming thick mist in the frigid room. “I don’t know. The old patriarch kept his darkest designs to himself.”

Stephan’s jaw tightened. “There is always a reason. A calculation. They wouldn’t trap her in that facility, make her ageless, without one.”

“Elisabeth disappeared,” Xander said softly, his voice fragile. “Years after the cloning succeeded. She simply… vanished.”

Stephan’s eyes narrowed. “She vanished. And a man of your intellect expects me to believe no one knew where she went?”

Xander stared at the floor. “The records went dark. She was gone.”

Polaris watched both men, her dark eyes flickering with a volatile mix of anger and disbelief. She could not fathom how these architects of the new world could play God so carelessly, yet claim powerlessness when faced with the consequences.

The silence stretched, suffocating. Stephan abruptly turned, grabbing his heavy coat. His boots clicked sharply against the floor as he headed for the door, intending to march straight back into the blizzard and confront Rheinhard.

“Where are you going?” Polaris asked, moving with graceful precision to block his path.

Stephan looked down at her, fists clenched like stone. The furnace inside him had stabilized into a cold, focused flame. “To Linchsteyn. I’m ending this.”

Polaris refused to move. Her concern ran too deep; she would not let him throw his life away in a blind rage. “My apologies, love,” she whispered, her voice softening into something tender and heartbreaking. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him in what appeared to be a loving embrace.

For a fraction of a second, Stephan let his guard down, leaning into her warmth.

The illusion shattered.

Polaris’s hand moved with surgical speed, driving a concealed syringe into the side of his neck.

Stephan gasped as betrayal flooded through him. A powerful wave of dizziness crashed over his enhanced nervous system. He fought it, muscles straining, but his body betrayed him — growing heavy, sluggish, and weak.

“What… did you do?” he rasped, his voice a failing wheeze. His eyelids grew impossibly heavy.

“I need you to stay here,” Polaris murmured, her tone laced with tragic tenderness. “For your own sake.”

The drug took hold. Stephan’s knees buckled. His massive frame slumped forward. Polaris and Xander caught him before he hit the floor.

They carried him to the couch. Xander shot Polaris a dangerous look. “You could have damaged him with that injection.”

Polaris met his gaze steadily, her features settling into a mask of cold resolve. “I did what I had to do to protect the man I love. The man I begged you to protect. You failed him. I will not.”

Xander frowned, the rebuke cutting deep. He looked down at Stephan — the product of his grief, the boy he had remade from a template of loss. His hand trembled slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from the young man’s pale face.

“He shouldn’t have risked himself,” Xander muttered, voice broken. “Uncovering the rest of the truth will destroy him.”

Polaris said nothing. She sat beside the unconscious Stephan, gently lifting his head to rest on her lap. Her fingers moved slowly through his hair in silent vow. She would guard him from the storm outside and the monsters within — even if it meant standing against Xander himself.

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Linchsteyn Estate, Whalsburger

13:30 PM.

Hildegard stepped out of the black SUV into the howling whiteout. Snow whipped across her face, stinging like tiny needles. For the first time in twenty-four months, she stood outside the confines of the high-security facility on the outskirts of Elskandrovsk. She could finally feel the raw bite of the winter storm and see the distant, majestic silhouette of the Winterkönigin rising through the blizzard like a frozen sentinel.

Freedom should have felt like salvation.

Instead, an aching emptiness settled in her chest. Her thoughts kept returning to Stephan — the man who had risked everything to let her taste real sky, real snow, real life. The idea that she might never see him again weighed heavier than the storm itself.

She climbed the broad stone stairs slowly. At the top stood Rheinhard, arms open in a warm, paternal gesture.

“Father,” she murmured, stepping into his embrace. He held her tightly, one hand gently stroking her pale blonde hair.

When they pulled apart, Rheinhard smiled, his crystalline eyes warm with calculated affection. “You’re free from custody now, my dear. The facility is behind you.”

Hildegard managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. Yet her mind remained troubled. She glanced back toward the swirling snow. “I’m… concerned about Stephan. He protected me. He gave me those moments of freedom. Is he alright?”

Rheinhard’s expression remained gentle, but his voice carried a note of finality. “You needn’t worry about him. Men like Stephan do not dwell on such things the way you do. It’s best you move on.”

Hildegard’s eyes narrowed slightly as she turned her gaze toward the distant Winterkönigin, barely visible through the storm. “Is the project successful, then?”

Rheinhard nodded with aristocratic composure. “Your isolation helped strengthen your immunity. It ensured the next phase can proceed safely.”

Hildegard gave a calm nod, though her thoughts remained fixed on Stephan. The cold wind tugged at her coat, mirroring the unease stirring inside her.

Rheinhard placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Stephan and the others… they were flawed from the beginning. This country needs a new demographic shift — stronger, purer bloodlines. You are part of that future.”

Hildegard said nothing. She simply stared into the blinding whiteout, the weight of her freedom feeling far colder than the storm itself.

In the distance, the Winterkönigin mountains loomed — silent, eternal, and unforgiving.