Page 144 of Wicked Prince of Frost

For several minutes, nothing happens.

I nearly leap out of my skin when he inhales sharply, and bright, red light shines from his eyes.

Be not afraid, prince. I am with you,my guardian’s voice speaks reassuringly within my mind.

A rectangle of crimson light cuts through the dirt, opening at our feet. A faint, sickly light radiates from below, casting a barely there outline on the narrow steps leading into the depths.

“Go on,” the shadouk urges. “Find your brother. I will be right behind you.”

Determined to save my brother, I swallow my fear and descend.

The soft slide of leather soles trails behind, carrying the heavy presence, growing heavier and more oppressive with every heartbeat. Each breath seeming to say,Run. Run while you still can.

An eternity seems to pass, though in reality it is only minutes by the time we reach the hard-packed earth at the bottom. We emerge into a yawning cavern with a dark pool in the center. A long, narrow strip hovers above the water from the shore to a platform in the center, where a tall mirror frame stands.

Large swatches of moss grow in random patches along the rough walls, emitting the sickly, strange light that allows me to see where I’m going.

A young boy sits hunched and leaning forward before the mirror with his legs crossed.

Brother?

“Eojin!” I call, running for him.

I race over the narrow path. The water that I first thought was black, sloshes over in thick crimson waves. I wonder if it’s an illusion, or the blood of all those who’ve died tonight. It’s not until I reach the center platform that I realize the boy is not sitting before the mirror, but within.

I whirl around, ready to bolt, only to find the narrow path back to solid ground blocked.

“What is this?” My voice shakes, betraying the terror gripping my spine.

Black veins pulse within the whites of his eyes, swallowing his winter blue irises and spreading like ink into the whites until he stares at me through two shadowy voids.

“It is only the two of us now, Nephew.” The shadouk walks forward along the glass. Each heavy footfall sends a wave of red liquid washing over it. “The rest of the family is dead.”

Not Eojin.

I shake my head. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, but it is,” he growls the words with malicious glee, letting the ruse slip away.

My hands ball into fists as I stand before the towering monster disguised as the uncle I’ve only seen through paintings. “Why?”

“Because I loved her first. Yet she chose your father instead, whenIam thefirstborn. This—the crown, the throne, and all of Arum is mine by rights—she was mine!”

I gather my energy, preparing to call upon my dragon.

“Now I will take what is mine,” he calls.

The demon from the dinner lowers from the darkness above. Their eyes shine, molten. Red irises form in the depths of the shadouk’s, pushing through the inky voids. More black veins spill from his eyes and across his face, spreading down his neck and under his collar, and over the backs of his hands within seconds.

He lifts a hand, summoning a glowing red orb above his palm.

Imugi’s snowy form darts from the stairwell, soaring toward me as fast as they can. But the other demon sees themand swoops, slamming into them. The impact flings Imugi against the wall with a resounding crack.

The sound echoes in my ears, growing louder with the wail of crackling power that strikes me a moment later. My body rises into the air, lifted by giant, unseen hands. The power solidifies and turns into ropes of thorns that pierce my skin.

My guardian’s screams fill my head as my own echo in my ears.

I collapse in a heap on the ground, breathless. The air feels too heavy, as if taking the shadouk’s side, trying to keep me down. It takes everything I have to get up again.