Page 119 of Wicked Prince of Frost

I don’t know how she found me, but I’m thankful for her timing.

“You cannot go there!” Imugi hisses.

Bear growls, bunching their body in preparation to pounce to my defense.

I duck under the hovering demon and slip outside. The wind has died down some, but flecks of ice still whirl through the air. I barely feel the sting against my face, determined not to let anyone or anything stop me from getting to the crypt.

A shadow passes overhead, drawing my eye to the large shape.

Through the haze of white, the Winter Dragon weaves through the sky. With a roar, it does a somersault and circles back, coming straight for me.

The part of me that wants to live screams for me to run, but another part knows I am too slow—too far from any shelter—to get away. And my feet remain planted where they are.

I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for whatever is to come and hope that my end is quick. Several seconds pass, and nothing happens. I swallow my fear and force my eyes open.

The Winter Dragon hangs, suspended high in the air, gazing back at me in much the same way that Imugi does. The beast’s eyes blink slowly.

Two icy antlers that curve back, sprout from the snowymane that travels down the length of his—Joon’sbody—long body. His scales glitter like freshly fallen snow in the moonlight. His mane and whiskers move gently as if suspended in water.

He is stunning.

We are held captives in this moment that stretches on as we gaze at each other, neither able to look away.

A bell gongs in the distance. Shouts break through the storm in the spaces between the ringing. Voices grow in volume. The spell over us shatters.

Joon turns toward the sound of guards running toward us and roars. He flies for them, sending a blast of blue flame overhead as he soars past and into the northern sky.

No, not flame…ice.

It shatters in the air and rains down over the palace soldiers, who shout out in alarm. Mingi and Iseul call my name as I pass the gate to the Central Court.

By the time I reach the Temple Tower, my legs are tired and I’m out of breath, but I keep going.

A lone man, dressed in ceremonial robes, moves slowly through the hall, stopping to light each sconce.

“Where is the royal crypt?” I shout.

He flinches at my volume and gapes as I run at him. I skid to a halt. Recognition lights his eyes, or perhaps he sees I’m about to ask again and wants to keep me from shouting again. Because he finally points down the hall at his back. “Th-that way, My Lady.”

I dip my chin in a barely acceptable bow of thanks and continue on my way. Turning the corner at the end of the hall, I hurry down the short passage leading to a set of stairs that lead up as well as down.

The darkness at the bottom is so oppressive, it forces meto slow lest I collide with something or fall down unseen stairs.

The landing emerges at one end of yet another corridor, with a single doorway halfway down. The only source of light is the sconce across the hall from the double doors.

I brace a palm against the damp stone wall until I’m close enough to see the faint outline of the brick paving.

The faint sounds of a commotion reverberate from the stairwell. Mingi and Iseul are not far behind.

Standing before the doors, gripping the handles, I hesitate. My entire body is shaking from nerves, and my stomach has tied itself into so many knots I think I might be sick.

I don’t think I want to do this.

But I have to—I need to know.

With a deep breath, I throw the doors wide before I can change my mind. The sight that greets me is like nothing I could have imagined.

Stone pedestals as high as my waist are laid out in orderly columns and rows. Resting upon nearly half of them are glass mausoleums with the bodies of kings and queens of the past.