The North Wind
Alexandria Warwick
(The Four Winds, #1)
Publication date: January 13th 2022
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Romance
Lush. Dark. Romantic. Introducing a newly reimagined tale written in the vein of Beauty and the Beast and Hades and Persephone.
Long before civilization, there were the gods. And before the gods, there was the earth, the celestial bodies, and air given flesh. They are the Anemoi—the Four Winds—and they have been banished to the four corners of the world.
Wren of Edgewood is no stranger to suffering. Her parents are gone. Survival is all she knows. For three hundred years, the land known as the Gray has been encased in ice, surrounded by a great barrier called the Shade, which protects the townsfolk from the Deadlands beyond.
But day by day, the Shade weakens.
Only one thing can stop the Shade’s fall: a mortal woman taken captive across the barrier, bound in wedlock to the dark god who reigns over the Deadlands. He is the North Wind, the Frost King, an immortal whose heart is said to be as frigid as the land he rules.
And the time has come for the Frost King to choose his bride.
The North Wind is a standalone, enemies-to-lovers fantasy romance, the first in a series sprinkled with Greek lore. Perfect for fans of Jennifer L. Armentrout, Laura Thalassa, and Scarlett St. Clair.
Excerpt
It’s as I’m smoothing the wrinkles from the white tablecloth that I hear it—the clop of hooves on stone.
The silence is thick enough to choke on.
The clustered women press closer, grabbing each other’s hands. No one utters a sound. Even their breathing has ceased. Elora’s gaze meets mine across the room.
I could do it. Take my sister’s hand, flee through the kitchen door in the back. The dark god would never know of Elora’s existence.
“Places,” Miss Millie hisses, motioning for the women to take their seats at the table. Suddenly, the air clangs with noise—shifting chairs and whispering cloth and the dreaded clop, clop, clop, closer and closer. Somewhere in the room, I hear a softly uttered, “Please.”
I’m halfway to Elora’s side when Miss Millie snags my arm. The woman’s fingernails bite painfully. I can’t pry them loose. “Let me go.” White rings Elora’s dark eyes, which are locked on the front door.
“It’s too late,” she breathes. Clumps of her gray-streaked hair stick to her round, sweaty face. The lines around her mouth deepen.
“It’s not. There’s still time. Lend us your horse. I’ll take your daughter with us. We’ll return once—”
Footsteps.
Miss Millie swings me around, shoves me into a corner as the front door opens. The hinges squeal like a mutilated animal. Around the table, the women flinch, shrinking back into their chairs as a gale bursts through the doorway, guttering half the lamps and plunging the room into near-darkness. I freeze against the back wall, mouth dry.
In steps a towering figure, etched black against the shadows. Cloaked, hooded, alone.
He has to stoop to enter the room, for the buildings are constructed with low slanted ceilings to conserve heat. When he straightens, the top of his head brushes the rafters, darkness coiling inside the cowl of his hood. Two pricks of brightness, the sheen of reflected light against his eyes, are all I see. I’m not sure of their color. His head turns slightly to the left—a brief perusal of his surroundings.
Miss Millie, bless her heart, shuffles forward. Terror has bleached her face white. “My lord?”
The sucking void that is his hood opening shifts in her direction. He lifts his hand. Someone gasps.
But he only pushes back his hood with a gloved hand, revealing a countenance of such agonizing beauty that I can only look at him for so long before I’m forced to turn away. And yet, only seconds pass before my attention returns, drawn by some unnamed compulsion to study him in greater detail.
Author Bio:
Alexandria Warwick is the #1 fan of Avatar: The Last Airbender. She is the author of The Demon Race and the North series.
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