Juliana Haygert

Kei’s long body shimmered and changed. His white and silver armor disappeared, giving way to light gray fur as he hunkered down and shook his tail behind him. As a wolf, he let out a short yelp, letting me know he was ready.
I changed too, but as the king of the Winter Court, my wolf was pure white and much bigger than Kei’

And I let out my magic. It blew like an avalanche, relentless in its path. If a lesser fae had stood there, it would have been obliterated in less than a second. A higher fae would be able to withstand it for a minute or two, but it would weaken him and eventually kill him.
The Winter Court was me, and I was the Winter Court. There was nothing stronger, faster, more powerful than me, not in this land. Not in my kingdom. And anyone who threatened my people, my court, would suffer the consequences.
I sent all my magic, all its vast power, to the darkness, sure I could revert it. Sure I could make it disappear.
But minutes later when I pulled back, breathing hard from the effort, I was dumbfounded to find the darkness hadn’t moved back one inch. In fact, it only advanced a little more.
“What in the frost?” I had no words, no idea, no action.
Nothing had ever resisted the full power of my magic before.
“What should we do, my king?” Kei asked, his tone guarded, as if afraid of my answer.
I opened my mouth, but no freezing word came out, because I didn’t know.
“It’s a curse,” a new voice said.
I turned and saw her.

Mahaera, the kind and gentle goddess of Wyth. Her long, white hair moved behind her as if she were underwater, and her long, white dress hugged her voluptuous form.
“A curse?” I asked her. If someone could tell me what this was and how to fix it, it was one of the three sister goddesses.