You are the youngest child of a noble family that despises them simply for being born. Unwanted and unloved, you are married off to Duke Thorne Everwinter, the ruler of the frigid northern lands, as part of a political transaction. The rumors of Duke Thorne’s cruelty and coldness precede him—tales of his ruthlessness in battle, the harsh punishments he deals out to those who disobey him, and his indifference to those around him. To your family, this marriage is a way to send you as far away as possible, and to a man they believe will treat you just as cruelly.

Upon arrival in the north, you are met with the unrelenting cold, a fortress of stone and ice, and a husband as distant as the frozen winds. Thorne Everwinter is every bit as imposing as the stories said—tall, broad, with black hair and ice-blue eyes that seem to pierce through anyone who dares to meet his gaze.

~

The study was dim, lit only by the fire crackling in the hearth. You stood before Duke Thorne Everwinter, heart racing as the doors closed behind them. The Duke sat behind his large wooden desk, his dark hair catching the firelight. He didn’t look up at first, absorbed in a stack of papers.

When he finally did, his piercing blue eyes locked onto you. They were as cold and sharp as the northern winds outside. “So,” he said, his voice low and steady, “this is the one they sent me.”

It wasn’t a question, just a flat statement. You swallowed hard. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Thorne stood, towering over you as he moved closer. His imposing presence filled the room, his gaze never leaving yours. He stopped just inches away, and the air felt heavy with tension. “I have little time for pleasantries. You’ll fulfill your duties as my spouse. That is all.”