Page 116 of Wicked Prince of Frost

A man kneels, his hands tug on me, urging me to my feet.

Mingi.

He’s speaking, but I can’t focus on his words.

What is he saying?

The wild beast threatens to overpower me, perhaps for good.

Another voice—this one lighter, more soothing, calling my name.

My left arm seizes. Bones crack. Break. Lengthen then reform. I stare at where my hand used to be. In its place is a claw, covered in shimmering scales made of ice and frost, ending in long, deadly points.

I was wrong. It is already too late to stop this.

That gentle voice calls again.

Violet.

Hide—I must hide from her—Can’t let her see. I shove Mingi away and trudge down the first steps. “Stop her,” I rasp over my shoulder. Even my voice is no longer mine. “Do not let?—”

But it’s too late.

Too late.

I am always too late.

Burning agony pierces my eye as the Winter Dragon peers out. It pins her in place.

I only have a heartbeat to see the fear and hurt on her face before I am consumed from the inside out. The deafening roar of the dragon fills my head as it rips free of my hold.

Everything goes black, and I fall.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

VIOLET

“You did well today,”Iseul says. Today, she has her hair pulled back into an intricate knot, held in place with a silver comb.

I try to smile, but it feels more like a grimace. She gives me far too much credit. “I butchered every word.”

My response elicits a laugh from her as she stacks the books and notebooks, waving me off when I try to help.

“The old language is not easy to master if you were not born hearing it. Even most fae prefer the common tongue outside of ceremony and tradition.” She places a hand on my forearm. “You haven’t been practicing for long—trust me, you’re doing great.”

“Is it really necessary for me to know this?”

“Perhaps, not the most necessary thing, but it will only help you. Once you have the basics down, I will teach you how to say a few useful key phrases, as well as ones to listen for.” Iseul leans forward. A stray strand of hair comes loose, dangling in front of her face. “This might be an act, but thisway, if anyone tries to insult you to your face and lie about it, you can properly put them in their place.”

I’ve never had much talent for languages, but Iseul has a good point. “I appreciate it.”

“I don’t like to see people bullied just because someone thinks they are better than them. Status, wealth, and popularity don’t determine someone’s worth,” Iseul says quietly, then quickly shakes it off.

There is pain beneath her words, and I wonder what happened in her past that has made this so personal to her. My heart swells. I want to find whoever hurt her and teach them a lesson.

The implied violence of that thought surprises me.

Once more, I try to help her tidy up the materials from our lesson, which earns me an admonishing tap on the hand.