Page 34 of Wicked Prince of Frost

I face him. “That’s not it at all.”

“Then why are you suddenly afraid?”

Demons take me.The last thing I want to do is explain my thoughts, but I can’t risk offending him.

“It’s not fear,” I start.

“Then what?”

“I know you won’t do anythinguntoward—you didn’t even kiss me earlier. It’s just…” I trail off, looking down to hide my face. “I couldn’t help thinking how everyone must be certain of what intimate acts will pass between us—and that is a lot of people thinking of something so personal,” I finish in a barely audible whisper.

Joon is silent and motionless for a long moment. Then, a low chuckle rumbles from his chest.

My head snaps up, and I gape.This is funny to him?

“Never mind what they may or may not think. I am sure you have questions. You may ask freely,” he says.

“Was a kiss part of the ceremony?”

“It was,” he says slowly.

“Won’t that make it impossible to use the fae paths when I am with you?”

He shakes his head. “In this case, it was unnecessary. We were bound the night we made our bargain.”

The prince holds up his hand, indicating the invisible thread around our fingers that binds our fates.

I use this as my chance to change the topic instead of delving deeper into the subjects of kisses and intimacy with the prince. “So, what exactly is it I must do to fulfill my obligation?”

Joon breathes out a long breath. “Before I answer that, tell me something. How did the book come to be in your possession?”

Demon shit.

“I… found it.”

Joon blinks in disbelief. “You expect me to believe that youjust so happened to stumble across one of the forbidden fae texts in your little human city that managed to escape the notice of every other human for centuries?”

“I suppose not.” Telling him would endanger the lives of people I love—and I refuse to do that when I very much doubt he will extend the same mercy to them that he has shown me.

“I can’t say.Pleasedon’t make me,” I plead. “Can it be enough that I returned it to you?”

He must sense my desperation because the hard lines of his face relax. Then a sinister glint flashes in his eyes. The scar cutting down through one appears paler than usual, enhancing the ominous feeling that I am about to pay for this concession.

He moves in close enough for his proximity to distract me. “Have you figured out why I agreed to bargain with you yet?”

“Because I asked you to?”

He smirks.

At least I amuse him.

“If I were to ingest the tea, it would grant a temporary, minor increase to my power. Which would be a terrible waste of such a rare specimen.”

The steady rhythm of my heart picks up as if it senses something my mind has yet to fully grasp.

“That unassuming little flower needs a mortal life force to thrive. Its power multiplies until it eventually becomes more than your human body can withstand.”

Dark spots dance before my eyes. By trying to prolong my life, I guaranteed the opposite.