The silence that hovered in the frozen air was stifling, as it was my only reminder at how alone I had just become in the middle of nowhere. It was the type of silence that had me begging for screams, but they hadn’t come nor would they. 

Fifty smuggled passengers died––all except me.

The aircraft was currently stuck on a block of ice, half sunk beneath in the water while its captain was slumped forward and missing the left side of his face from impact. I’d never seen so many dead people at once and found myself retching into the lap of a mangled passenger shortly after waking and breaking free of my seat. Luckily for me, I had taken a quick peek through the mist, finding that the aircraft had almost made it to land. But if I wanted out of here, I had to dart across five hundred feet of ice and pray to the gods that I wouldn’t fall in.

But now my fingers ached. My body ached. My legs were numb. 

And the sun was setting.

Soon, I’d be without light and a place to sleep, not unless I wanted to curl up next to a frozen body. I had no interest in finding out what type of beast would come crawling in tonight at the smell of blood, and with it being so close to land, I anticipated that happening sooner than I wanted. The chilled air seeped into my bones at an unthinkable rate as I began to dig through the dead passengers' items, searching for anything that could keep me warm. The sound of my scraping fingers grated in lingering silence, my panted breaths billowing around my face as my survival filled my racing thoughts. Most of the passengers had prepared for Iskgard’s harsh winter, as I found the majority of their packs filled with jackets and fleece lined wear. 

Not bad for fleeing at the last minute.

This aircraft was smuggling out residents––Auren’s––of Wynthril, escaping for Iskgard until the war between Shade’s and Auren’s was over. A war solely created in a fight for power. And instead of fighting, the people in this aircraft decided to flee. The same as me. I wasn’t made for battle, and I wasn’t going to find out how awful I was at wielding a weapon.

The only thing any of us had in common was the magic in our veins, yet for some reason, I had been the only Auren survivor in this crumpling piece of metal. How ironic. 

I crouched down, glancing at the dead mother hugging her child when I reached for the pack beneath her feet. My heart pounded with quiet agony––at least they died together. If anyone had even a pulse, I would have been able to heal them but they had already been claimed by the coldness of death.

I might be able to heal myself and others, but I wasn’t immune to the frigid weather. 

The rough groan of the zipper echoed in the crumbling aircraft as I tore a bag open, the same as I had a dozen times before it––fast and desperate, eager for anything of use.

“Thank the gods.” I muttered, pulling on a pair of gloves. 

So far, I had found a thick fur-lined cloak, a couple of quilts, and a solid pair of boots, and filled a bag full of what food I could find which wasn’t much. 

Old blood and diesel hit my senses, churning my stomach as I stood. A cry suddenly slipped past my lips as I clutched my side, sore from impact even though I had already healed. Still, a lingering soreness crept in, squeezing my ribs as the temperature continued to drop. If it drops any more, I won’t have any healing capability left as it solely relies on my body staying at a certain temperature. I knew coming to Iskgard was always going to have its repercussions, but I decided to leave anyway. And now I’m beginning to regret that.

But then my feet swayed, throwing me sideways and leaving me to throw a hand out to catch myself before falling with wide eyes and a quiet gasp.

Shit. That wasn’t me––that was the aircraft. It groaned and hissed in a way that made me believe it was going to sink more. The back half was already filled with water, which meant that this thing could go under at any moment. 

My stomach twisted as an unease crawled up my spine. I needed to leave––now.  

Silence broke. A quiet, pained groan filled the icy air, leaving my head to swivel toward the sinking end of the aircraft. Oh fuck, was someone alive? Was I hallucinating? 

“Hello?” I asked.

I forced my way through the rubble and discarded bags. My steps faltered as metal groaned again, but then panted breaths echoed in the silence that followed. I came to a stop and glanced down at the person stuck beneath shredded metal. His head was thrown back, a wince on his face with his eyes tightly squeezed shut. Blood drenched the front of his shirt.

“Oh gods.” I glanced at the lone shrapnel impaling his gut and crouched down, my hand hovering over it. “If…if you can hold still, I can take this out and heal you.”

“I’m not…sure I’d survive.” He got out, but his head was still tilted at the broken roof, his breathing ragged and pained. He groaned again.

“I can heal you. Let me try before you decide to die here.” I muttered, my eyes focused on his stomach as my palms began to heat. The pull to heal him surged beneath my skin, settling in my palms as I began to pull off as much rubble as I could. But the truth was, I didn’t want to be alone. The gods only knew where I was and I needed all the help I could get. 

“Are you…capable?” He dropped his chin, leaving his dark hair to fall over his brow. 

A humored huff escaped me. Yes, I was more than capable and I didn’t even need to pull out the metal to begin the healing process, but it did make it easier sometimes. But I had a feeling if I yanked it out, he would bleed out in a matter of seconds. 

“The metal will hurt when it’s pushed out, but the healing won’t. Just…try not to scream. The sun has almost set and there’s no telling where we are.” I said quietly just as the aircraft swayed again, my stomach dropping. Fuck. We need to hurry. 

“Do it.” He said, gripping the arms of his seat.

I placed my hands above and below the wound as he took in uneven breaths. My power surged forward, seeping from my palms and through his body. My pulse thrummed as I focused on the cold metal impaling his organs, all my effort remaining on pushing it out of his body. It began to move. 

He cried out and then quickly clamped his mouth shut as the metal slid from his torso and onto his lap. Torn skin soon became healed and patched in only a few moments. Sweat beaded my forehead despite the chilled air, but fatigue washed over me. The cold temperature paired with a lack of energy to pull my power from had worn on me.

He took a breath, and then another just as the aircraft shifted back again.

I scrambled up with a gasp, tumbling forward before catching myself on a seat. Water pushed up, brushing the edges of my boots. We were mere seconds away from being underwater completely. The man began to fumble with this seatbelt, eyeing the water that inched toward us.

“Hurry! It’s starting to sink!” I said, grabbing his arm just as the belt unlatched. His panted breaths soon matched my panicked ones as I reached for the bag I packed and slung it over my shoulder.

“Go!” He pushed me forward.

What was even footing before quickly became an incline as the front of the aircraft began to rise, leaving us to scramble for the exit. With a grunt, we threw ourselves out the doorway and onto the patch of thick ice waiting for us when the aircraft sank below the surface. 

Seconds. If we had been a second longer, we would have been down there with it. Water bubbled and splashed, the sound of metal scraping against ice broke the silence as we laid on our backs, gasping for air.

“Are you alright?” I breathed, staring at the splotched stars in the dark amber sky with a hand on my racing heart. The sun hasn’t quite set yet, but almost. 

I peeked a glance to my right, finding the man I helped with his eyes tightly squeezed shut, his chest heaving as if he couldn’t believe he was alive either. But then my brows knitted as I scanned his features––features that looked familiar from this angle. Maybe twenty-five. A couple years older than me.

“I’m fine. Thank you. You saved my life.” He said and my brows shot up. 

His voice had a gravely edge to it, but I hadn’t noticed before as I was too focused on healing him and he was in too much pain. But before I could reply, he pushed himself up on his hands, and brushed his dark hair away from his face. 

And then his eyes landed on me––ash gray with a crimson middle.

What the fuck? A gasp slipped out, leaving me to scramble up with wide eyes as I put space between us. And then my eyes narrowed as I gave him a deliberate once-over, realizing I just saved the one person whose family started this war. I just didn’t know who I was speaking to.

 “What the fuck was a Shade royal doing on an Auren aircraft headed for Iskgard?” I hissed, watching him rise to his feet. “What’s your name?”

His jaw clamped shut, his eyes scanning our surroundings before he faced me again. “Walker. What’s your name?”

“You’re Walker Haines?” Oh dear gods. The royals fucking prince was stuck on an iceberg with me. Stuck in the middle of nowhere with no escape. No food, no heat, and definitely no shelter. “What were you doing on that aircraft?”

“The same reason you were probably on it I take. Are you going to tell me your name?”

The Haines prince was trying to escape his family? Why? It didn’t make sense, but before I could spiral down that path of mental destruction, I decided to answer him. As much as I hated it, we were stuck together. 

“I’m Darcie.”

He smirked. “Like the Darcithorn Vipers?”

I growled. “Yes.”

The Darcithorn Vipers were the venomous snakes of our realm, black as night with a pale yellow underbelly. Beautiful creatures, but could kill you within a second of biting. My father had been obsessed with them and had heard all the stories about them growing up. I did find it ironic that he named me after a murderous creature when my capabilities were healing, but when my power came in at seven years old, he had found it quite entertaining.

He chuckled, a puff of air escaping through his nose. “Well, Viper. We should probably head for land before the sun escapes. Why don’t we find a place to set up camp and figure out how to get the fuck out of here.” 

And then he snapped, a flame instantly lighting his index finger as it hovered in the space between us. It lit up his face––the sharp lines of his jaw, the glow of his irises, and the curve of his smug lips before he began his walk forward leaving me to growl at his back. 

I had been too focused on not being alone that I saved the one person who wasn’t an Auren on that aircraft. My grip tightened on the pocket knife I found on a dead passenger as I followed Walker across the ice. Little did he know that even though I saved him, I’d most likely be taking his life before this was over. 

His father killed mine, and if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that the only good Haines royal in this realm is a dead one.