FROSTBITE • mikaelson mate

prologue

PROLOGUE
snow and ash

Henrik Mikaelson opened his eyes.

The sky was white and small speckles of ash cascaded down onto him. It reminded him of something, but when he reached for the memory, it disappeared into oblivion. Henrik blinked, realising it wasn't ash falling on him, it was snow.

He knew he should move, the snow fell fast and he risked being buried beneath it, but he could not bring himself to. He just lay there, letting the icy flakes fall on his body as he blinked up at the sky.

Henrik didn't know where or when he was. All he knew was that minutes ago he had been dead and now he was alive.

Confusion clouded his brain as he recalled his last memory: the wolf. He flinched at the vivid picture his mind conjoined up of his last moments on earth, or at least what were supposed to be his last moments. He wanted to sit up, to look for Niklaus, who had screamed as the wolf lunged at him, but he couldn't find it in himself to move.

His mind circled the horrific memory over and over again, trying to make sense of everything. No matter how hard Henrik tried, however, he could not find an answer. He was breathing again, and he didn't know why.

He wanted to get up and search for his family. He longed for the comforting embrace of his sister and the wise words of his older brothers. He craved the presence of his loving mother, who always had the answer to his problems. His body began to quiver, both from distress and cold.

It was only when he heard a small pained cough that he moved. Mustering up all of his energy, Henrik sat up and looked around for the source of the noise. He vaguely noticed that he was in a forest. The trees bare of leaves and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of crisp white snow. He heard the cough again and his eyes landed on a small figure that was rolled into a ball beneath one of the trees.

Henrik frowned and let out a grunt as he managed to stand. Slowly, he made his way over to the figure, who appeared to be a little girl, just a few years younger than him. She was wearing only a nightgown, not suitable clothing for the current weather, and her eyes were shut. She held her knees to her chest as she shivered and Henrik bent down and gently touched her shoulder.

The girl's eyes flew open and met his. It was in this moment that Henrik knew that she was special, that he needed to protect her.

She was freezing so Henrik relied on his mother's teachings and muttered a spell, hoping it would warm her. He was only just coming into his abilities as a witch and was now wishing he had listened more during his mother's lessons. He gently lifted her into his arms, his muscles protesting at the action, and muttered the spell over and over again. The shivering, frostbitten girl blinked up at him with adoration as Henrik began to walk, desperate to get her to safety.

Henrik didn't know how long they spent like that but eventually the girl opened her mouth and asked, "Are you an angel?"

Henrik felt taken aback by this and replied, "My name is Henrik."

"I'm Morgana. Everyone thinks my name is Morgan but it's Morgana" She said, putting emphasis on the a.

"Hello Morgana." Henrik said with a soft smile. "Where is your home? I can take you there."

She shook her head. "Have no home. Where did you come from? I thought I was all alone."

"I'm not sure." He replied with a frown, "Why don't you have a home?"

Morgana shook her head adamantly, her eyes wide as she refused to answer his question. Instead, she asked, "How old are you?"

"I am in my eleventh year." He replied, smiling at the sweet girl in his arms, "How old are you?"

Morgana pouted her lips in thought and then held out eight fingers before cuddling into him. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, which had been silent for a millennium. Her reddish brown hair moved with the wind, the ends brushing the bare skin of his arms. Her fragile form was still quivering despite the warmth his magic offered her.

Henrik knew he needed to take Morgana somewhere but he had no idea where they were. Fueled by determination, he carried her through the woods for hours, muttering the spell to keep them both warm. With every second that passed, he could feel his body become weaker and weaker. It wasn't until Henrik reached a house that he collapsed, Morgana falling with him.

Voices sounded from around them but Henrik didn't know what they were saying. He just gripped Morgana tightly to him as darkness overcame them both.

Little did they know that their meeting would set into motion a series of events that would change the lives of many different supernatural creatures.