Chapter 6 - Crossing the Frozen Divide
For hours, they pushed deeper into the jagged expanse of the Frost-Tooth Mountains. The blizzard had finally begun to ease, leaving behind a dead, crisp silence broken only by the crunch of their boots and Roman’s heavy, labored breathing.
Clara led the way, using an old hunter's shortcut her father had taught her—a treacherous, narrow ledge high above a frozen gorge known as Dead Man's Drop.
"We need to rest," Clara said, noticing how pale Roman’s lips had become. The intense cold was starting to take a dangerous toll on his battered, recovering body.
"If we stop now, the tracking hounds will catch our thermal signatures," Roman said, leaning heavily against a smooth granite boulder. He winced, clutching his side where the skin was finally beginning to knit together under the slow regeneration of his Alpha blood.
Clara pulled out her canteen, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to him. "You can't protect me if you freeze to death on the side of a cliff, Roman. Drink."
Roman took the canteen, his fingers brushing against hers. For a second, a strange, warm spark—like static electricity—jumped between their skin, making Clara pull her hand back in surprise.
Roman noticed it too. A soft, complex expression crossed his sharp features. "Your father didn't just hide you, Clara. He passed the Warden's Spark down to you. That's why the silver didn't burn your bones away."
"My father was a logger," she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction.
"Your father was the executioner who spared my mother twenty years ago," Roman corrected gently. "And now, our bloodlines are tied together. Whether we want it to be or not."
Before Clara could digest the staggering revelation, a bright flare shot up into the night sky several miles behind them, painting the snowy peaks a sickly shade of orange.
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"Victor’s search parties," Roman muttered, his jaw tightening into a hard line. "They’ve found the cabin ruins. They know we’re heading for the capital."
"Then we move faster," Clara said resolutely, grabbing her pack tighter. "The old railway station at Raven’s Creek is five miles down this ridge. If we can catch the midnight cargo train, we can make it to the capital before dawn."
