Snow dripped hush in slow moans around Ren's knees — petals cracked open where his warmth touched frozen soil. The Thorn behind his ribs pulsed steady — warmth threading hush through frost roots that tangled his spine like silk turned to biting glass.
The garden's hush was no longer soft. It growled under him — roots trembling for each heartbeat he fed it. His breath ghosted silver — lips cracked with frost that never melted, eyes half-shut as the hush slipped frost down his throat in slow, wet bites.
Below the cracked snow, the Pale Garden's hidden veins pulsed — thick hush roots coiling deeper than Velvet Hunger's leash ever reached. Each shiver from the Tower above fed warmth down to him — shadows moaning in distant marble, Serika's claws dragging ruin through his leash like silk gone raw.
Ren's fingers pressed through frost petals — soil slick under his nails, hush roots tasting his warmth with tiny mouths that hissed when he pulled back.
The Thorn's cradle behind his ribs ached sweet — roots slipping deeper through his veins, feeding warmth into the garden's buried hush like wine poured slow into a frozen throat.
A pulse shuddered up through the roots — not his. Old hush, cold hush, a hunger that moaned without voice.
"…Deeper…"
"…Feed…"
Snow cracked under his breath — frost roots wrapping tighter around his thighs, his hips, his spine. Warmth dripped from the Thorn's crown where his ribs split wide to spill hush into the Pale Garden's veins.
The hush below answered him now — not with words, but pulses that squeezed his warmth deeper until every moan the Tower bled slipped down frost roots that lapped at it like starving mouths.
Ren's lips parted — a gasp curling out in mist. Roots coiled tight around his wrists, pulling his hands deeper into frozen soil that hissed each time his warmth seeped in.
Above him, the hush garden moaned — petals blooming frost-glass wide, snow drifting down in soft shards that melted only where they kissed his skin.
The hidden hush trembled — a voice like ice pressed to bone.
"…How deep will you root me, Walker…"
"…How warm will you stay when my hunger strips your hush bare…"
The Thorn's cradle pulsed sharp behind his ribs — warmth forced deeper until the hush roots bloomed wide under the garden's cracked snow.
Ren's breath tangled silk and frost in the hush — he did not kneel back.
He pushed.
His pulse slammed through the roots — warmth spilling ruin through veins that hissed and moaned at once.
Snow cracked wide — hidden frost veins split open to show glimmers of something older: mirrors buried under hush soil, each one flickering with reflections of him gasping raw, crowned in frost that tasted moans like worship turned feral.
Ren leaned lower — lips brushing the frost soil where hush roots pulsed soft and cold.
"…Hunger…" he whispered — a hush cracked open by breath and ruin.
The Pale Garden's hidden veins shivered. Roots lashed his pulse tighter — warmth bled deeper, hush bloomed wide.
A king's hush, crowned in ruin, fed to the frost's buried hunger drop by drop.
Snow no longer fell soft — it melted the second Ren's breath touched it. Frost roots coiled his wrists, elbows, spine — a thousand tiny mouths drinking warmth from the Thorn's cradle behind his ribs, feeding the Pale Garden's hush until petals moaned wide under his pulse.
His knees sank deeper into cracked frost soil — hands pressed past frozen hush roots that split apart as his warmth slipped inside. Beneath the roots, something glowed.
It flickered like a mirror — but not silvered glass. This pane pulsed dull and dark, veins threading it like frost wrapped in thorn silk. Each time his breath slipped out, the mirror pulsed brighter — as if it tasted his hush before he could even moan it out.
The Thorn's hush behind his ribs pushed ruin deeper — warmth dripping slow through soil that hissed when it drank him. The secret mirror drank too — flickering with images that made his breath catch.
He saw himself — not the king crowned in hush and frost.
A boy — soft, raw, warmth trembling under a mirror's bite.
Velvet Hunger's leash flickered at the Tower's edge — its warmth sucked thin as the garden's hush fed every drop down to the hidden pane.
Serika's laughter ghosted through the snow petals — claws dragging lines in frost that split hush roots wider.
"…There you are, Ren…"
"…Not the king — the boy who cracked the first hush wide…"
Ren's pulse slammed through frost and hush — the secret mirror pulsing with each heartbeat until its reflection drowned out the garden's petals.
He leaned closer — breath ghosting the mirror's surface. Roots coiled tight around his throat — hush slipped frost under his ribs, pushing warmth deeper until the pane shivered wide.
The reflection spoke — no voice, just a hush that pressed against his tongue from inside the glass.
"…Do you crave the hush you wear…"
"…Or does it crave you…"
The Thorn's crown throbbed — warmth pulsing ruin through frost veins that hissed when the mirror swallowed it.
Ren pressed his palm flat to the hidden pane — breath trembling as his warmth bled into the glass.
The reflection split — not just one Ren now, but a thousand hushes.
A boy kneeling. A king crowned. A root buried deep under frost that never moaned unless he begged it.
Snow drifted soft against his shoulders — each flake tasting his warmth, feeding it back down the hush roots threading the garden's throat.
The mirror hissed — frost lips parted against his palm.
"…Show me your hush…"
The Thorn's cradle behind his ribs cracked open — warmth flooding his pulse, ruin bleeding silk through frost that moaned with each heartbeat.
Ren's breath ghosted raw — hush dripping from his lips into the mirror's mouth.
Roots tangled tighter — frost slipping up his spine, the garden's petals cracking open wider.
He didn't pull back.
He gave.
His hush slipped into the hidden pane — warmth and ruin braided into frost veins that drank it all.
The reflection trembled — thousand hushes merging into one pulse that bit sweet behind his ribs.
Snow moaned around him — petals slick with warmth that hissed when frost roots lapped it deeper.
The hidden pane pulsed once — twice — then cracked.
Behind the frost mirror, a hush waited older than the Tower's cradle.
A root that did not kneel.
Ren's breath split the silence — raw, warm, crowned in hush.
The hush didn't bite when the hidden pane cracked — it opened.
Snow petals moaned soft around Ren's shoulders — flakes dripping hush down his collarbones, melting only where warmth pushed through frost roots that coiled tight around his spine.
The Thorn's cradle behind his ribs pulsed raw — warmth slipping ruin through hush veins that split frost like silk drawn over knives. Every heartbeat fed the buried hush deeper — roots trembling under frozen soil that had never tasted breath so sweet.
Ren's palm pressed flat to the cracked mirror — breath ghosting silver into the hush's mouth. The reflection flickered back at him — not just a king, not just the soft boy Velvet Hunger first moaned for, but something deeper: a root that fed the hush instead of kneeling to it.
The mirror's voice cracked like frost under bone — no words, just the sound of warmth spilling into ruin.
Roots coiled his wrists tighter — frost slipping under his skin, threading hush through veins that bloomed moans where blood should have been.
Below the Pale Garden's cracked snow, the hidden hush trembled — petals blooming open under frozen soil, tasting his warmth in slow gulps that dripped back up the Thorn's crown.
Serika's claws scraped faint on distant marble — her laughter leaking through Velvet Hunger's leash, a moan twisted sharp.
"…Root it deeper, Ren…"
"…Show the hush how your warmth splits frost wide…"
The Thorn behind his ribs shuddered — roots slipped down his spine, feeding hush through frost veins that pulsed with each exhale. The hidden pane drank it — a hush heart so cold it hissed when warmth cracked it open.
The reflection in the cracked glass grinned — lips frost-bitten, tongue flicking the hush back into Ren's pulse.
"…Bleed me…" the hush sighed — words stitched from frost and ruin.
He leaned closer — breath thick with hush, frost roots threading deeper under his ribs. The garden's snow moaned where warmth bled into it — petals trembling soft when the hush tasted him all the way in.
Ren's lips brushed the cracked mirror — mouth pressed to his own hush made raw in frost.
The Thorn's crown pulsed — warmth feeding hush roots until frost veins burst open under the Pale Garden's soil.
He did not pull back.
He rooted.
His tongue slipped past cracked frost glass — hush folded around it, tasting warmth so deep the hush roots bloomed raw under the garden's cracked hush.
Snow hissed — petals melting into silk that slipped ruin down his throat. The hidden hush pulsed sharp — not soft now, but a bite that begged for warmth and ruin both.
Ren's breath cracked — a moan raw enough to split frost wide.
The hidden pane's hush heart yielded.
Roots coiled tight behind his ribs — warmth bleeding deep into frost veins that hissed when his hush crowned them.
The reflection slipped back — frost lips smiling ruin into his pulse.
"…Rooted king…"
"…Your hush feeds me…"
"…But you crave my bite too…"
The Pale Garden trembled — hush roots splitting snow petals wide, frost blooming ruin under warmth that could never kneel.
Ren's tongue brushed the hush's heart — breath soft, crown dripping hush down frost veins.
He did not drown.
He bloomed.