The ice crystallized along the frayed hem of Eva's tunic.

Each breath felt like swallowing broken glass.

The wind screamed through the iron bars of the gate house, dumping another heavy layer of white powder over her bare knees.

Her skin was losing its color.

Turning a dangerous, translucent shade of blue.

She squeezed the silver token tighter inside her pocket, her frozen knuckles locking into place.

The sub-zero cold was an anchor dragging her down into the dark.

Then, the numbness spread.

Her vision blurred, the blinding white of the blizzard fading into a different winter.

Two years ago.

Her sixteenth winter.

The same courtyard.

The same biting frost.

She had been kneeling in the slush back then too, her hands raw and bleeding from scrub-washing the vanguard’s heavy leather combat boots.

"Faster, orphan," a senior Omega guard had snarled, kicking the side of her wooden bucket. "The future Alpha’s convoy doesn't wait for a useless glitch like you."

The skin on her shoulders had been torn open from a disciplinary whip courtesy of the Chief Beta.

The blood was freezing directly into the open wounds.

Then, the heavy oak doors had groaned open.

A pair of pristine, heavy black military boots stopped inches from her scrubbing bucket.

Young Killian Vance.

He hadn't taken the Alpha title yet, but his shadow already held the weight of a king.

Broad shoulders.

Dark gold hair dusted with fresh powder.

He didn't look down at her face.

He didn't speak to the broken Omega orphan kneeling in his path.

But as he walked past her shivering form, his hand gripped the collar of his own heavy wool coat.

A fluid, careless motion.

He tore the massive garment off his shoulders and threw it back.

The heavy, lined wool landed directly over Eva’s bleeding back.

It was massive.

It completely swallowed her small frame.

The coat carried his scent—ozone, raw cedar wood, and the terrifying, intoxicating heat of a dominant bloodline.

"Wear it," he had muttered.

His voice had been a low, rough rasp, barely cutting through the wind.

"I... I can't, sir," Eva had whispered, her lips splitting from the cold. "The Beta... he'll—"

"I said wear it," Killian had interrupted, his dark gold eyes flashing with a sudden, unyielding dominance. "Let the Beta answer to me."

The Vance family crest was embroidered on the interior lining in thick silver thread.

A striking, coiled wolf head.

The moment the silver thread brushed against her raw, cut skin, a strange reaction occurred.

The crest burned.

Not with the destructive agony of pure silver against a rogue, but with a fierce, melting heat.

It flared against her flesh like a brand.

A liquid fire that rushed straight into her veins, instantly stopping the shivering in her limbs.

That coat had saved her life.

That memory became her survival anchor.

A secret, silent devotion born in the snow.

CRACK.

A massive branch snapped under the weight of the ice nearby, shattering the illusion.

Back to the present.

Eva opened her eyes, the freezing reality of the blizzard slamming back into her chest.

No heavy wool coat this time.

No silent protection from the man inside the hall.

Killian Vance was the Alpha now.

And he had just ordered her thrown out to freeze.

Eva pulled her knees tight against her chest, burying her chin into the wet fabric of her apron.

She didn't cry.

Tears would only freeze on her cheeks and burn the skin.

Instead, she locked her mind back onto that old afternoon.

She wrapped herself in that burning memory, forcing her brain to recall the exact temperature of his cedar-scented wool.

She simulated the heat of the Vance family crest against her skin.

Using her own memory as a shield against the deadly frost.

Minutes bled into hours.

The wind didn't stop, but the violent spasms in her muscles began to slow down.

The internal fire she had felt in the dining hall—the strange force that had healed her palms—was still humming beneath her ribs.

It was fighting the cold for her.

Deep in the distance, past the stone perimeter walls, the first morning horns began to blow.

A low, echoing brass tone that signaled the changing of the vanguard guard.

Dawn was breaking over the Blackwood territory, but the sky remained a heavy, suffocating grey.

Eva hugged her frozen knees tighter.

Her skin was completely numb now, coated in a fine layer of white frost, but her heartbeat remained steady.

A slow, stubborn rhythm.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Suddenly, the heavy brass bolt on the inside of the iron gates groaned.

The sound of metal scraping against metal cut through the howling wind.

Someone was unlocking the door.

The heavy gate cracked open, revealing Tanya Bennett standing in the threshold.

She held a steaming porcelain mug, wrapped in a thick fur cloak that didn't have a single speck of snow on it.

"Look at you," Tanya mocked, her voice a sharp contrast to the peaceful dawn. "Still breathing. You really are like a cockroach, Eva."

Eva didn't move her chin from her knees.

She just stared.

"What? No witty comeback today?" Tanya stepped out onto the ice, her boots crunching softly. "Nothing to say to the future Luna?"

"Go away, Tanya," Eva rasped, her throat so dry it felt coated in sand.

Tanya laughed, a high, cruel sound that was swallowed by the wind.

"Oh, I'll go. But first..."

Tanya tilted her hand, pouring the boiling contents of her mug directly onto the snow inches from Eva's frozen feet.

The hot liquid hissed, melting a small grey hole into the white drift.

"Killian sent me to check if you were dead yet," Tanya whispered, leaning down so close Eva could smell her expensive rose perfume. "He doesn't want a corpse rotting near the entrance. It's bad luck for the pack."

Eva’s gaze shifted from the melted snow back to Tanya's face.

"He didn't send you," Eva said, her voice dropping into a flat, dangerous register.

Tanya's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her fingers gripping her empty mug tighter.

"Believe what you want, orphan," Tanya snapped, straightening up and adjusting her fur cloak. "But when the guards drag you to the border lines later today, you'll know exactly who holds the leash in this pack."

Tanya turned on her heel, her silk dress rustling against the stone as she stepped back inside.

"Enjoy the frost," Tanya threw over her shoulder. "It's the only birthday gift you're getting."

BANG.

The iron gates slammed shut once more, the heavy bolt sliding home with a definitive, icy ring.