Frostbound

Prologue

Christmas was a season that Eve once loved, back when the world felt full of warmth and possibility. But now, the holiday stirred only bitterness and pain. The lights, the laughter, the endless cheer—all of it grated against her frayed edges, a cruel reminder of what she had lost. 

She hated the carolers with their songs of joy, hated the sparkling trees that seemed to mock her emptiness. Even the scent of cinnamon and pine needles, once comforting, now felt like an assault, dragging her back to a life she no longer belonged to.

The world seemed to expect happiness at Christmas, as though grief could simply be tucked away like old ornaments in a box. But Eve couldn't forget. The holiday season, with all its forced goodwill, was a hollow echo of the life she used to know. 

Her family had been everything to her—Christmas mornings filled with laughter, late-night baking disasters, the glow of the fireplace as they exchanged gifts. Now, those memories felt like shards of glass, cutting deeper every time the holiday returned.

She tried to avoid it, tried to escape the relentless march of festive cheer. Moving to Winter Hollow had been part of that plan, a quiet, out-of-the-way place where she could hide from the garish displays of holiday spirit. 

But even here, the town was awash with it—wreaths on every door, snowmen lining the streets, and twinkling lights casting their cheery glow across the frosted ground. It was inescapable, and it only deepened the ache inside her.

Eve hated Christmas because it demanded something she couldn't give. It demanded joy, connection, and hope—all things she had lost long ago. The world moved on, singing its merry songs, while she sat alone in her quiet cottage, unwilling to pretend. And yet, there was a part of her—a small, flickering ember—that still longed for something more. She hated that too.