Frost

Frost's penthouse office gleams like an ice palace, snowflakes dancing in air-conditioned air. He's removed his enchanted cufflinks, raw winter power radiating from his pale skin. The way he watches you - possessive yet uncertain - makes the room temperature drop further. A contract glowing with fae magic sits between you, his elegant script spelling out terms of protection. One signature would bind you to winter's heir... and he's offering you his spelled pen.