Page 124 of Wicked Prince of Frost

Flecks of ice pelt my body as the swirling tempest doubles in strength within the sphere surrounding the Winter Dragon. My cloak whips, snapping with the violent gusts.

Using my arm to help shield my face, I step into the heart of the storm.

“Joon!” I call at the top of my lungs. The sound is snatched from my throat before it passes my lips. I lower my arm and try again. “Joon! You have to stop!”

The dragon twists back on itself. A single bright blue eye narrows in on me. There is a moment, no more than a fraction of a second, where it pauses.

With a roar that rattles the ground beneath my feet, it spirals higher toward the clouds in tighter and tighter circles before diving. The dragon swoops, leveling out and sending waves of snow cascading to either side as it barrels down on me.

The massive mouth opens as if preparing to send out a blast of freezing flames. But I stand my ground, willing Joon to see me from within.

Deafening silence fills my ears as everything ceases entirely. I peel open my eyes, unsure when I closed them.

Several yards ahead, the dragon hovers about as high as the top of a forest canopy, gazing at me as it had back at the palace. It’s even more massive up close than I realized.

My body trembles. I tell myself it’s from the cold as I walk forward, one slow step after another, getting as close as I dare.

“It’s all right.” I am amazed when my voice comes out calmand gentle. Holding out a hand, I continue speaking, “You can stop now.”

The dragon descends as gracefully as a feather and lands. I close the remaining distance, still murmuring assurances until I’m able to rest my palm on the massive muzzle.

The scales are unexpectedly warm.Just as he is now.

So different from the night we met…

I stroke the top of the long snout, stunned into silence at the beauty of the dragon—the scales shimmer like frost over deep blue ice. Its white mane is like a pile of down surrounding the two antlers that sprout from the top of the head, jutting backward.

The electric-blue eyes gaze at me, then grow heavy and close, but I keep contact as I move. The dragon releases a deep sigh, and with it, a light that emanates from within so bright I’m forced to turn my face away.

When it fades, the dragon is gone, and in its place, Joon curled within the imprint left behind in the snow.

Mingi races forward and kneels before the prince. He throws a hooded cloak over him and helps him to his feet.

Joon mutters his quiet thanks as he straightens his clothes, keeping his eyes downcast, refusing to meet my eye.

I move back out of the way. Seeing him like this makes it hard to hold onto my anger.

A myriad of emotions shuffle over his features when he finally looks for me.

Mingi is saying something to Joon, too low for me to hear from where I stop. He cuts off abruptly when he realizes the prince is not listening.

Joon rises and walks toward me as if drawn by some unseen force, unable. His uneven gait shows just how weakened he is.

I pull in a breath and hold it. After such an immense use ofpower, Joon needs to siphon, and even with my battered and bruised heart, I know I will do it if he asks.

He stops just before reaching me, then calls over his shoulder, “I want a moment alone with Violet.”

“This is not the time nor the place,” Mingi protests.

Joon shoots him a look, making it clear that it wasn’t a request.

Neither of us speaks until Mingi rejoins Iseul back at the horses.

“Violet…”

“You lied to me,” I say harsher than intended.

Joon averts his gaze. “I never lied to you.”