Bought By the Jotunn

Eseld walked north until the cold took her.

When she stopped following orders, the only direction left was into the Wastes, where the ice would finish what her guilt couldn’t.

Thyran hasn’t spoken to anyone in seven years.

She organizes his fish. Hides knives around his hall. Argues about where the salt goes. And the frost giant who hasn’t felt warmth in years burns so hot the windows steam.

But Eseld knows she doesn’t get to keep good things. So she runs to a bride market to sell herself as a tool. Find someone who’ll use her hands without wanting her heart.

Thyran empties everything he has left onto the bidding table. Seven years of grief, traded for the chance she’ll say his name.

The ice doesn’t stand a chance against this kind of heat.