CAGE OF ICE AND ECHOES (FROZEN FATE #2) BY PAM GODWIN – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Pam Godwin
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 11.5 MB
- Price: Free
In the quiet of my heart, where death whispers, I tread softly, carrying the
weight of Wolfson’s absence.
A week has passed without him. A deep, black void. Cold. Painful.
Never-ending.
Like the polar night.
Like our empty bellies.
Somewhere north of the Arctic Circle, I stand at the frosted window of
our cabin, watching snowflakes dance.
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Our cabin.
My prison for over four months. Longer for Leonid and Kodiak.
They’ve been trapped here since childhood.
With Denver and Wolf gone, it’s our cabin now. A cage of ice with
frozen pipes, dwindling pantries, and echoes of the dead.
A permanent chill lives on my skin, my goosebumps the size of
cherries. But it’s a welcome distraction from the ache within.
The heavy weight in my arms, Wolf’s saxophone case, holds memories
etched in brass and melody. A relic of a tortured soul taken too soon. His
haunting music used to fill these walls as vibrant and inimitable as the
northern lights.
Now there’s just silence. A silence so swollen it chokes.
I feel guilty wearing his coat when he died in the bloodstained ruins of
mine. I feel guilty loving his brothers when I couldn’t love him the way he
wanted. I feel guilty taking a breath when I couldn’t stop him from taking
his life.
I need you with me. We can finally be together.
He didn’t want to die alone.
Part of me, a dark, dangerous shadow, knows it would be easier to join
him. To let the cold embrace me, to close my eyes and imagine it’s Wolf’s
arms around me one last time.
I shake off the thought, my survival instinct still too strong. Even
stronger is my love for his brothers. I would never do that to them, would
never hurt them more than they’re already hurting.
The tread of boots drifts from the basement stairs, heralding Leo’s
approach.
In the caress of candlelight, he emerges, a silhouette of sorrow, cradling
a box laden with ghosts of the past. Within lie the remnants of innocence—
clothes he and Kody wore as children—and the identities of women lost to
this place. Among them, his mother.
My eyes, always on the brink of tears, look away.
Sensing my turmoil, he sets down the box, eases the case from my grip,
and lowers it to the floor with reverent gentleness. His hands, red from the
cold yet steady and firm, find my shoulders, anchoring me.
Our foreheads meet, resting together in a communion of pain.
“Breathe.” His voice is my lighthouse in the fog. “Again.”
Our lungs empty in unison, our breaths a coil of vapor.
“Want to talk about it?” His fingers dig in, massaging tense joints.
Wolf lives in my head in fragments, in flashes. Eyes that once held
galaxies of mischief, now stilled. Hugs that once thawed the harshest
winter, now phantoms. His punch lines and pet names, now lost to the wind.
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