It was dark. Not the cozy, sleepy kind of dark that Silas liked, but a heavy, suffocating blackness that smelled of old potatoes, damp earth, and betrayal.
And it was cold.
The temperature in the hallway had been chilly, but down here in the deep rock of the mountain, the air was stagnant and freezing. It seeped through clothes and bit into the skin like tiny, invisible teeth.
"Hello?" Vali called out, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Ninjas? We’re here for the ice cream!"
Silence.
"I do not detect any ninjas," Orion murmured. He was standing stiffly in the dark, his breath coming out in white puffs that he couldn’t even see. "And my olfactory sensors detect... tubers. Not sugar."
Vali felt around the wall until his hand hit the heavy wooden door. He pushed. It didn’t budge. He pulled the handle. Locked.
"She tricked us," Vali realized, his ears drooping. "There’s no ice cream. Just... rocks."
He turned back to Orion, ready to complain about how mean girls were, but he stopped.
Orion wasn’t standing anymore. He had slid down the wall and was sitting on the freezing dirt floor, his knees pulled to his chest.
"Orion?" Vali asked, stepping closer.
"System error," Orion whispered. His voice sounded slurred, like a music box winding down. "Core temperature... critical. My legs... I can’t feel my legs, Vali."
Vali’s annoyance vanished instantly. Panic replaced it.
"Get up!" Vali ordered, grabbing Orion’s arm.
He recoiled. Orion’s skin was terrifyingly cold. It felt like touching an ice sculpture, not a boy.
"I require... warm water," Orion mumbled, his head lolling onto his shoulder. "Or a heating lamp. Or... toast. Primrose is toast..."
"No, no, no," Vali stammered. He ripped off his own fur-lined cloak and threw it over Orion. Then he sat down and wrapped his arms around the Merman Prince, squeezing him tight. "Don’t sleep! Rurik says if you sleep in the snow, you don’t wake up!"
"I am just... powering down..." Orion sighed, leaning his heavy head against Vali’s chest. "It is efficient. Save... oxygen."
"Shut up about oxygen!" Vali yelled. He rubbed Orion’s arms vigorously, trying to create friction. "Think about math! What’s... what’s a million plus a million?"
"Two million," Orion whispered instantly. "Too easy. Ask... harder..."
Vali felt a surge of heat in his chest, but it wasn’t warmth. It was anger.
Pure, molten rage.
Astrid had done this. She looked at Orion—his brother, his pack—and decided he was just "luggage." She locked him in a freezer because he was annoying. She didn’t care if he froze.
Vali looked at the door.
His usually bright pink eyes darkened. The pupils slit. The irises turned a deep, blood-red crimson.
A low growl started in his chest. It wasn’t the cute yip of a puppy. It was the rumble of a predator.
"Vali?" Orion murmured, cracking one eye open. "Your heart rate... has accelerated to 160 beats per minute. Are you... malfunctionin—"
"I’m going to break it," Vali snarled.
He gently set Orion down, making sure the cloak was tucked around him.
Vali stood up. He walked to the heavy, iron-reinforced door.
He didn’t knock. He punched it.
BANG.
The wood groaned. Dust fell from the ceiling.
"OPEN UP!" Vali roared, his voice cracking with fury. "LET US OUT OR I’LL EAT THE DOOR!"
BANG.
He hit it again. The iron hinges rattled. In the dark, his red eyes glowed like two burning coals. He wasn’t playing anymore.
---
While the children were fighting for survival (and warmth), the adults were fighting a different kind of war.
The War Room of Winter-Hold was a grim place. A massive stone table dominated the center, covered in maps of the North. Red markers showed the encroaching Void corruption—a circle that was slowly tightening around the fortress like a noose.
Marquis Konrad stood at the head of the table. He hadn’t offered them seats.
Rurik, Caspian, Primrose, and Duchess Freya stood on the opposite side.
"Why are you here, Rurik?" Konrad asked. His voice was low, dangerous. "And do not insult me by saying it is a social call."
Rurik crossed his arms, trying to look casual. "I told you. I wanted to visit. See the old home. Show my son his heritage."
Konrad slammed his fist onto the table.
BAM.
"Don’t lie to me!" Konrad barked. "I know you, little brother. You hate this place. You hate the cold. You hate the stone. And you hate me."
Rurik flinched, his casual mask slipping.
"I sent you away five years ago," Konrad sneered. "I told you to leave and never come back. You don’t just ’pop in’ for a holiday with the King of the Ocean and a... a Fox without a tail."
He cast a disdainful glance at Primrose. She stood her ground, though she felt the sting of the insult.
"They are strangers," Konrad continued, gesturing to Caspian and Primrose. "Outsiders. And you brought them to our most sacred stronghold during a crisis. Why?"
"Because we can help," Caspian stepped forward. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of a tsunami. "We are not here for tourism, Marquis. We are here because the Void is rising. We saw the Black Ice on the road."
"The Black Ice is none of your concern," Konrad snapped. "The Wolf Clan handles its own problems."

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