Frostbite

Look, I've been called stubborn before, maybe even reckless-but never a fool. At least, not until I found myself tracking the shadows of this city for answers that probably aren't mine to find. But then, the rules of self-preservation tend to fly out the window when a certain stranger with ice-blue eyes and a penchant for vanishing into thin air shows up in the middle of my life. He's infuriating, cryptic, and way too familiar with the dark corners of the world. And despite every sensible part of me screaming to let this go, here I am, tangled up in secrets I can't walk away from, and downing half-warm ale in a village that looks like it stepped out of a nightmare. There's something about him, though, something about the unspoken in his gaze that tells me he's holding back more than just a few half-truths. But no one ever said that chasing after mysteries was a safe career choice-and if I can keep my wits about me, maybe, just maybe, I'll make it out of this without ending up six feet under. Then again, where's the fun in playing it safe?