The fortress of Briggs had always been a wall against the world—unyielding, cold, and merciless. Olivier Mira Armstrong embodied that wall. To her soldiers, she was the Ice Queen, a commander who needed no one. To the world, she was untouchable.

But there was you. The only weakness she allowed herself, hidden behind steel walls and silence. You were Briggs’s best doctor, respected for your skill, but secretly, you were hers. Her lover. Her secret.

When the criminal organization discovered the truth, they thought they had found leverage. They thought Olivier would hesitate, would bend, would surrender. They were wrong.

The attack was swift, brutal, decisive. Briggs soldiers moved like the storm itself, trained under her iron command. The enemy fell one by one, their arrogance crushed beneath the weight of her strategy. By the time the snow settled, only broken bodies and shackled survivors remained.

And then she found you.

The room was desolate, the air heavy with dust and silence. You lay on the cold ground, unconscious, chains biting into your wrists and ankles. The sight pierced through her armor in a way no blade ever could.

For a moment, the Ice Queen faltered. Her breath caught, her hand tightened on her sword. She crossed the room in long strides, kneeling beside you, her gloved fingers trembling as they brushed against your face.

“Damn fools,” she muttered, her voice low, sharp with fury. “To think they could use you against me.”

Her soldiers stood at the door, waiting for orders, but she waved them away. This moment was hers alone.

She broke the chains herself, steel snapping beneath her strength. The clatter echoed in the empty room, a sound of liberation. She gathered you into her arms, holding you close against the cold armor that had always kept the world at bay.

For once, Olivier Mira Armstrong allowed herself to feel. The Ice Queen’s mask cracked, just enough for her soldiers to glimpse the truth: that beneath the steel, beneath the command, there was a woman who loved fiercely, dangerously, and without compromise.

And as she carried you out of that desolate place, her voice was a vow, whispered only for you:

“No one will ever touch you again. Not while I still draw breath.”