A Court of Husky Voices

Chapter 1: The Frigid Hunt

The forest had become a labyrinth of snow and ice.

Wrapped in a white fur coat, she blended into the frozen bush, following an almost unrecognizable trail. Her nose and ears felt numb already; she had been hunting them down for almost three hours now.

She had to tread carefully through an endless world of ice, afraid of stumbling down and hitting her head on a rock. That would be an embarrassing death, and yet she could bet her entire life her family would be the happiest people on Earth if that would happen. Her accidental death insurance had gone up to 500,000 dollars.

Shivering and teeth chattering, she paused for some minutes, took her heavy backpack off, and stretched the exhausted muscles of her arms and shoulders. She then leaned on a dead trunk to rest for a while. This should be worth it, she thought. There was no turning back now. Her life and career depended on it, as well as her sisters' LV and Hermes collections--what they had called their basic needs.

Without any idea what was coming, she trekked down the snow-covered trail once more.

"Cauldron help us." Oh, what she would trade for a hot bath and warm bed!

And just like a spell, right after murmuring those words, a log cabin appeared at the end of the foggy road. Her pace sped up, she could had sworn she'd become faster than wolves.

When she made it inside the cabin, she pinched her cheek real hard. The oasis may had been just a hallucination, but it hurt! Even on her almost numb skin. She wasn't dreaming at all.

She was so dying to get that soapy, hot bath and those warm pillows and blanket, but when the front desk smiled and asked, "Hello, what can we do for you?", she was reminded of her mission, the only reason she was there.

"Hi, I'm looking for my friends. Could you check a guest named Andras Wolfher?" she said, batting her stiffed eyelashes as possible as she could.

The girl with thick, dark hair stared at her, perhaps deciding whether to trust the brown-haired stranger or not. She stared back to meet her black eyes, sparkling orbs with hints of brown.

"I don't know you." The girl said and the stranger raised a brow.

"What?"

She leaned in and whispered, "I know who Andras is. Are you with the band?"

Removing her hood, the stranger leaned back, smiling sheepishly. "Yep. Now, can I please meet my friend? He's here with--"

And before she could finish, the girl cut in, leaning closer to her one more time, "Blight Spring!"

This bloody trip was worth it then, the stranger thought. Her brain cells began cheering, proclaiming her hard-earned victory.

"Sshh. Don't let anyone know, okay? Their relationship is highly forbidden. I'm actually here as a chaperon or shall I say, a cover-up." The stranger whispered back.

The girl cringed and nodded twice or thrice like a broken doll. She gave the stranger the cabin's name without any more hesitation and booked another accommodation for her.

What a lucky day for Feyre Archeron! Right then and there, she knew it was time to break her family's 5-year curse.

She was on the way of becoming a primetime news broadcaster back then when their family business went bankrupt. Her poor father's connections were severed; those idiots only worshipped gold and fame. Eventually, she ended up taking parts in small segments, sometimes a weather girl and most of the time, an entertainment reporter--and paparazzi.

Unfortunately, the small company she was working with had little faith in her talent. That was why they had given her this one last shot to prove herself to the industry. In a month, she would need to find a scoop that could break the Internet! Else, she would be left with no choice but to send in her resignation, and turn to growing flowers instead--but that's her sister, not Feyre! Giving up was nonexistent in her dictionary.

Hence, after getting a tip from a self-proclaimed reliable source, she booked a flight right away for Juneau. There were rumors that the great popstar-bachelor, Andras Wolfher, was having a secret affair with no other than Blight Spring, the wife of the 75-year old billionaire and CEO of AWall Airlines, Isaac Tomas. Nobody could confirm or find proof though, maybe because that job was really meant for her!

Feyre stopped at the back of a cabin named Cursebreaker. She set the lens between overgrown thorns and roses, and started shooting...