The temperature in the sanctum dropped not by degrees, but by the sudden, violent absence of heat. It was the 29th day of the 12th month—the year turning, the cycle grinding to a halt. The great clock in the town square had just tolled the 23rd hour when Chloe Temple finished the incantation.
"You fight the winter," Chloe observed, tracing a fingernail, now black as onyx, down his heaving chest. Where she touched, frost bloomed instantly, spreading like a spiderweb over his fevered skin. "But the 29th is the end, my dear. The year dies. And you are the fuel." freeze 23 12 29 chloe temple corrupted priest x top
She was no longer the High Priestess of the Order of the Thaw. The corruption had taken root months ago, a dark, oily vein pulsing beneath the white marble of her skin. She stood now before the obsidian altar, her vestments torn and re-stitched with bindings of black leather, a mockery of her former holy office. The temperature in the sanctum dropped not by
Top gritted his teeth, a growl rumbling in his throat. "Your god is a lie, Priestess. The sun returns." "You fight the winter," Chloe observed, tracing a