The Winter King (MM)


Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 18,813
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Jack Frost is used to causing problems, but he isn't used to dealing with consequences. When he accidentally destroys the Winter Crest, his one responsibility and the artifact that helps keep the balance of the seasons in the Fae Realm, he needs to find some way to solve this issue before anyone else can find out.

Morozko, A.K.A. Old Man Winter, is a former candidate for the position Jack now holds. He would know how to assist Jack with the Crest, but there's just one problem: Morozko has left the Fae Realm long ago, and is notorious for despising the politics involved. Will Morozko be willing to put aside his enmity to help out a stranger, or will Jack have to attempt some more ... persuasive methods?

The Winter King (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

The Winter King (MM)


Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 18,813
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Written Ink Designs

The tether that had pulled Jack along to his destination was growing tight, and he knew that he was about to make his entrance.

Jack hopped onto one of the upper-floor balconies, where a large glass window was blocking the way to his prey. Ahem. His wayward associate.

Well, that was an easy fix.

Jack waved a hand, and the glass shattered around him -- well, perhaps shattered wasn’t quite the right word. It rippled, crumpling in on itself as it blinked out of existence, the only sound a tinkle of bells that echoed through the air.

Jack stepped in through the now-empty door frame and into what appeared to be some kind of professional working space (which Jack had heard of, and found no reason to indulge in), to see a man sitting behind a desk.

He had a sturdy build, evident even from a distance. His dark hair was perfectly straight and fell down to his shoulders, though some of it was pulled back into a small, messy tail. When he glanced up, catching Jack’s eye, he saw that the man had the same pale blue eyes as Jack himself, typical for inhabitants of winter -- but there was something about them that seemed sharper, almost. Piercing, in a way that felt reminiscent of Lady Beira, with the cutting sensation of power hidden just below the surface. Age was clear in the lines of his face, the graying stubble that dotted along his jawline, but Jack knew instantly that his time in the Mortal Realm had not reduced his powers.

Morozko, former candidate for the position of Frost and once one of the most powerful faeries in winter, stared back at Jack, mouth agape.

"Morozko, former Frost and resident of the Fae Realm, I have come to you on the behalf of all winter," Jack said grandly, spreading out his arms in emphasis. "There is a task that no one but you can complete --”

But he didn't even get half-way through his speech (he'd practiced that, damn it!) before Morozko had leaped up from behind his desk and strode over, something close to panic on his face.

"No, no, no," Morozko growled, shoving one hand against Jack's face and beginning to bodily shove him out the door. "You can't be here!"

"Why not?" Jack said, offended, as he struggled against the older faerie's grip. "Even if you don't live there anymore, you're still a resident of Winter! And we need your help!"

“Help?” Morozko scoffed. He let go of Jack in order to cross his arms over his chest, staring down his nose judgmentally. “Why would anyone in the Fae Realm come to me for help? I haven’t lived there in nearly a thousand years!”

“So, you’re a little out of touch,” Jack dismissed. “No reason we can’t make this work regardless!”

Morozko groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. “No, we’re not doing this. You are going to leave, and I am going to return to my nice, normal peaceful life --”

“I broke the Winter Crest and you’re the only one I can ask to fix it!” Jack blurted out.

There was a moment of profound silence as the two faeries stared at each other.

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