The Forsaken Heir of the Frozen End

Chapter 1 The Boy Left in the Snow

The wind screamed like a living creature outside the Beckham residence, hurling shards of ice against the windows with such force that the glass trembled inside its frame. Snow swallowed the entire street beyond the house, burying parked vehicles beneath layers of white frost while the distant glow of the city flickered weakly beneath the storm.

Inside the living room, warmth still existed. The fireplace crackled softly. Golden light danced across expensive furniture and polished wooden floors. The scent of medicine and hot soup lingered in the air, creating an illusion of safety that felt painfully distant from the chaos raging outside.

Pascal Beckham stood barefoot near the front door, shivering violently as freezing air seeped through the thin fabric of his clothes. His lips had already begun turning pale blue, and every breath burned inside his chest like shattered glass.

Across the room, Charlotte Beckham ignored him completely. Her entire attention remained fixed on Ben, who lay curled beneath three thick blankets on the sofa. The younger boy’s cheeks were flushed red from fever, while a heating pad rested against his chest. Charlotte carefully adjusted the blanket around him, her expression overflowing with concern and maternal affection.

“Mom…” Pascal’s voice cracked from the cold. “Please… just give me one jacket. Anything is fine.”

Charlotte did not even look at him. Instead, she dipped a towel into warm water and gently pressed it against Ben’s forehead. Ben coughed weakly before glancing toward Pascal with watery eyes. “Brother,” he whispered, “can’t you see Mom is busy taking care of me?”

Pascal clenched his trembling hands.Busy.That single word twisted inside his chest harder than the freezing wind outside.

Earlier that evening, he and Ben had gone into the collapsing city to search for food and fuel. The power grid had already failed in several districts, and panic buying had emptied most supermarkets days ago. Snowstorms, unlike anything meteorologists had ever predicted, had consumed the country overnight, trapping millions indoors while temperatures continued dropping to terrifying levels.

Pascal had carried most of the supplies back home himself. He had dragged fuel containers through waist-deep snow while Ben complained about the cold after walking only a few blocks. And yet, the moment they returned home, Charlotte had stripped Pascal of his winter coat and wrapped it around Ben instead.

At first, Pascal thought it was temporary. Then his gloves disappeared. Then his scarf. Then, even the thermal sweater beneath his coat was taken away while Ben complained that he was still cold. Now Pascal stood near the front entrance wearing nothing but a thin long-sleeved shirt and worn pants while icy air leaked through the cracks of the house.

“Mom…” Pascal forced himself to speak again despite the pain in his throat. “I’m freezing.”

Charlotte finally turned toward him. There was no concern in her eyes. Only irritation.“If you’re going to compete for attention,” she snapped coldly, “then at least choose the right time. Ben has severe hypothermia.”

Pascal stared at her silently. Compete for attention? The disbelief in his chest nearly suffocated him more than the cold itself. Ben lowered his gaze weakly, pretending to look guilty. “Mom, don’t be too harsh on Brother. He probably didn’t mean anything by it.”

Charlotte’s expression softened instantly when she looked at Ben again.“You’re always too kind,” she murmured gently. Pascal felt something crack inside him. Not loudly.Not dramatically. It was quieter than that. Like thin ice breaking beneath someone’s feet moments before they drowned.

For years, he had endured this treatment while convincing himself that things would eventually improve. He had accepted every insult, every dismissal, every act of favouritism because part of him still desperately wanted to believe he belonged to this family.

But deep down, he had always known the truth. He was never really their son. He was merely a replacement. An accident of timing.A temporary solution before the real child arrived.

Years ago, Charlotte and her husband, Victor Beckham, had been told they could never have children. During that desperate period, they adopted Pascal from an overcrowded orphanage. For a brief time, Pascal experienced something dangerously close to happiness.

Then medical technology advanced. Ben was born. And Pascal became unnecessary. Charlotte suddenly stood from the sofa and walked toward him. For one fleeting moment, Pascal foolishly thought she might finally hand him a blanket. Instead, she grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the front door.“Mom…?”

“You clearly need to learn some gratitude,” Charlotte hissed. “Ben could die tonight, and all you care about is yourself.”Fear surged through Pascal’s chest. The storm outside had become worse over the past hour. Even inside the house, he could hear the terrifying howl of the blizzard tearing through the neighbourhood.

“Please,” Pascal whispered desperately. “Don’t do this.”

Ben looked toward them with widened eyes. “Mom,” he said softly, “after Brother stays outside for one night, he’ll probably calm down. Tomorrow, he’ll still be my good older brother.”

Charlotte nodded slowly as though his words made perfect sense. Then she opened the door. The storm exploded into the house instantly. Freezing wind roared through the entrance like a beast escaping from hell itself. Snow swirled violently across the floor while the temperature dropped so fast that Pascal’s skin immediately began to ache.

Panic consumed him.“Mom!”

Charlotte shoved him outside. Pascal crashed into the snow-covered porch, his body slamming against frozen wood as icy wind tore through his thin clothing. Before he could stand, the front door slammed shut behind him with a finality that echoed louder than thunder.

For several seconds, he simply knelt there in shock. Snow fell endlessly from the black sky above. The storm swallowed everything. The world had become white death. Pascal staggered toward the door and pounded against it desperately. “Please! Please let me back inside!”

No answer came. Only the wind. His fingers quickly lost feeling. Sharp pain spread through his arms and legs while the cold sank deeper into his bones with horrifying speed.

Inside the house, warm golden light still flickered behind the curtains. His family was there.Safe.Comfortable.And they were letting him die. Tears mixed with snow on Pascal’s face as despair swallowed him whole.

He did not understand why he had never been enough. He had tried harder than anyone. He obeyed every command. Worked part-time jobs to support the household.Gave up opportunities so Ben could have them instead.

Even during the early days of the catastrophe, Pascal had risked his life gathering supplies for them. Yet in the end, they abandoned him without hesitation. The cold grew worse. Much worse. Pascal collapsed against the frozen steps while darkness slowly crept into the edges of his vision.

His breathing became shallow.Heavy.Every inhale felt weaker than the last. Somewhere in the distance, terrified screams echoed through the city as more people realised the storm was not normal. This was not natural weather.

The apocalypse had arrived. And humanity was completely unprepared. Pascal’s body trembled uncontrollably while snow buried his legs. His thoughts became sluggish. Memories drifted through his fading consciousness. The orphanage.His first birthday with the Beckham family.The way Charlotte used to smile at him before Ben was born.

The countless nights he stayed awake, wondering what he had done wrong. A bitter laugh almost escaped his frozen lips. He finally understood. The problem had never been him. They simply never loved him enough.

Hatred burned inside his chest for the first time in years. Not sadness.Not desperation.Hatred.If he could live again…If fate ever gave him another chance…He would never beg these people for love again. He would make every single one of them regret what they had done.

The storm intensified violently. Snow covered the entire porch. Pascal slowly closed his eyes as death finally reached him beneath the endless winter. Then, A loud ringing sound exploded beside his ear. Pascal’s eyes snapped open.

He inhaled sharply and sat upright so suddenly that his chair nearly overturned behind him. Warm air touched his skin. The sudden temperature difference felt so unreal that his entire body froze in confusion. He was breathing too fast.

His chest rose and fell violently while panic flooded through him. The storm was gone. The freezing wind had vanished. No snow covered his body. Pascal stared blankly at the familiar bedroom surrounding him. The narrow desk beside the window. The old bookshelf is near the wall. The faint crack running across the ceiling above him.

This was his room. His bedroom before the apocalypse.“What…?”His voice sounded hoarse. The ringing continued beside him. Pascal turned mechanically toward the source. His phone alarm displayed a date that made his blood run cold. November 16.Fifteen days before the apocalypse. Pascal’s breathing stopped completely.“No…”

His hands trembled violently as he grabbed the phone. He checked the date again. And again. And again, the numbers never changed. A terrifying realisation slowly formed inside his mind. He had returned.Somehow… impossibly…

He had been reborn. Pascal stumbled backwards until his legs hit the bed. He sat down heavily while countless emotions crashed through his mind all at once. Shock, confusion, disbelief.Then slowly…Rage.Pure rage. Images from his previous death resurfaced with brutal clarity. Charlotte’s cold expression.

Ben is pretending to be innocent. The door slammed shut. The freezing darkness was swallowing him alive. Pascal lowered his head while his fingers dug painfully into his palms. This time would be different. He would never die helplessly again. Half a month. That was enough time. Enough time to gather supplies.Enough time to build shelters.Enough time to prepare for the collapse of civilisation.

Most importantly…Enough time to sever every connection tying him to the Beckham family. A slow smile appeared on Pascal’s face for the first time in years, though there was no warmth within it.“If this is really my second chance…” he whispered quietly, “then I’ll make sure all of you survive long enough to regret everything.”

At that exact moment, three sharp knocks echoed against his bedroom door. Pascal’s expression instantly darkened. Charlotte’s voice came from outside.“Pascal,” she called impatiently, “come downstairs. We need to discuss something important.”

An ominous feeling spread through his chest immediately. He remembered this day. Very clearly. In his previous life, this had been the moment everything inside him truly shattered. Pascal slowly stood from the bed. This time, however…Things would not go the way they expected. And downstairs, waiting behind that door, betrayal was already preparing to reveal its ugliest face.