Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 403 - Cold Bodies Stacked With Care As Dominance Burns In The Gutter

Chapter 403: Chapter 403 - Cold Bodies Stacked With Care As Dominance Burns In The Gutter

***[POV: Priestess-Princess Lomdi]***

The outskirts of the city had been conquered by ice. Just like in the paintings of harsh winters made by the elusive but respected Penguin shifters. The royal palace held a few of them in its collection, traded over the years by some of our artists with those seaside birds.

I always thought the desolation of it looked miserable.

Cold paws, cold nose, ice on fur, snow stuck to ears, none of it suggested a pleasant experience. Even with none of that being a problem for me anymore... I still don’t like what I’m seeing.

It could be the knobs of ice I know are cars. The ingenuity of these humans buried under nature. Or it could be the giant black scar through the city that I had to stare at while coming down a hill.

Kyrie explained what happened to me while riding, through what Claire had told her. The fire... and some numbers that are uncomfortable to hear. I admit I underestimated the potential for complications like that.

> I underestimated a lot of things. <

"Team Five, we’ve got another cluster. Residential building, northeast corner of Broad and thirteenth."

A heard the voice crackling through what must be a ’walkie talkie’. Just close enough to overhear what was happening ahead.

Men surrounded a large truck which had been modified with what looked like a snowplow attachment. They wore ’hazardous material’ suits and were carrying black bundles of something to a series of flatbed sleds.

Piled with the shapes, I reluctantly admitted what they were. Bodies. Many small enough to be children. Moved like bags of-

"Careful, the fully frozen ones are brittle. Felt plenty of fingers snap off. Even had a neck snap and a head roll out of a dropped bag."

"You’re a god’s damned liar, Karl. There are so many frozen muscles there it feels like a concrete log on every one of these."

"Maybe it was already decapitated?"

"So now we’re dealing with serial killers or Dullahans, Mitch? I’ll take that bet. When we see these wolves fly."

Low growls escaped me, even knowing I shouldn’t expect more from people. A certain amount of joking around is cathartic in grim circumstances - when they are doing a job no one is going to praise them for.

"Citra?"

Kyrie gently calls my name while rubbing my neck, but it barely calms me. As my claws dug down into the frozen snow layering over the uncleared part of the street, three white werewolves in hybrid form made themselves visible around the buildings.

Looking at me as I stalked forward, they appeared to be somewhat communicating with each other in some kind of handsignage while repositioning, as if they intend to stop me.

They think I’m the kind of trouble that needs to be held up and hassled? Well, they might be right, considering what I just did. How strong I am and how quickly I heal.

Yet, the woman on my back... whose thighs are squeezing *way too tight* while sitting upright... seems like the bigger issue to me. I can’t even see her face, but I imagine it to be incredibly displeased.

Crispness erasing the notes of smoke and oil in the city, her scent grows so strong I wobble a little from its presence. Damnit. I thought I was done with reacting like that, considering these new changes!

"Come no closer. Or I’ll restrain all three of you in The Pens myself."

If I didn’t have any idea what she was referring to, I would say that sounded like a queen declaring she would ’throw them in the dungeon’. But because I know that name from looking around the Hunter’s App...

> I know that it was *exactly* what she was saying. The prison for werewolves awaiting trials was all but a higher-tech, probably much warmer, tiny confined space for malcontents. <

All three of them lowered their heads, avoided her eyes, and tucked in their ears. Recognition of the hierarchy at least has not collapsed in her absence. I’d been slightly worried that her choice to be an idiot walking through a blizzard would have ruined that.

I guess it is still early to tell.

"My apologies, Miss Voss!"

Hearing the loud call before hearing the annoying whir, an object descends rapidly before braking and hovering over the snow. Four spinning little bars on a frame, with what looks like a camera mounted.

"I’m late. I know. Sorry. I just- what? Wait, hold-"

Honestly, it looked like it almost crashed and I have to wonder about the operator of this ’drone’. Or I would if Claire’s voice suddenly took over and calmly spoke out three different short phrases.

"Grandma’s dresser. Breakroom lunch thief. Little red dress."

Each one of these entirely disparate sets of words made one of these hybrids bark, whine, or whimper, respectively. Yet, each returned to work. Making it clear that-

"Blackmail complete. Leaving it to Tess. I have fires - not literal - to put out everywhere. See you two soon."

"-ah, what? Oh, I’m back."

Hearing the voice again, now paired with the name, the memory tickles back in my ears. Wait, no, that’s just... why is she doing that?

"They were twitching. I thought you might have gotten a flea."

Her excuse when I twisted my neck to look behind me is ridiculous. As if there are any fleas alive in this weather!?

"Excuse me, Miss Voss. But I was assigned to help escort you. There are some paths through the city that are still dangerous or that have piles of vehicle we haven’t dealt with."

The more she talks, the more I realize it definitely *is* the attendant from my first visit to Crystalline Spa. Which is sort of interesting, but not as much as watching three grown hybrid males leash themselves to sleds and begin pulling them.

"Which location are they staging them?"

"We started a cold processing center at the lakeside district. They document what they can for identification, taking pictures and DNA then... leave them out in the highschool’s stadium until things start to warm."

The idea of all of these motionless bodies packed in one spot, in an area that used to be used for sports festivities, is unpleasant. I can hear it in her voice that she thinks so as well.

"I know it raises concerns, but I’m the one that agreed and ordered it. It’s the only way to handle the volume - fuel is too limited and important a resource right now to cremate them."

"Yes, Miss Voss."

Apparently so can the CEO. Taking responsibility for her concern while staying mounted on me, like the cover of some fantasy book as I turn to trail after the ’speaking’ quadcopter.

> We are absolutely, positively trading places if we ever have to do this again. Who ever heard of riding a princess for hours and hours to get where you need to... go... <

The voice in my mindscape grows smaller as what I’m saying sinks in, in a way that it probably shouldn’t. Bad Citra. Bad.

I’ve been so focused on staying safe, feeding my son, and now getting here that my tension is draining and other desires are coming forth... or... no! It was that stupid press of her smell she did when trying to be extra imposing.

Of course. That’s it. Just basic beast submission. Completely normal. Completely... I’m not even listening to them now, but I probably should be. Stop it fantasies.

Go back to being a new mom that thinks of nothing but *that*!

> I mean thinking of motherhood, not... oh, nineteen hells... <