Page 4 of Wicked Prince of Frost

I’ve only taken a few steps when it cries again like an injured animal. I close my eyes with a groan.

Deep down, I know the empathy tugging at me for this demon is beyond idiotic. They are like any other wild animal, except far more dangerous. This time, the sound they make is like an injured puppy.

Cursing my soft heart, I turn back. I crouch down, pluck them from the snow, then hold them up to eye level.

They have the same animal-like form as all higher demons. From distorted bones, a knobby spine, ribs that stick out of their middle, to the claw-like hands with deadly talons at the end of long limbs that bend and twist at the joints in painful-looking angles.

Large, shining ruby eyes stare up at me. Their tongue lolling from their open mouth and limbs dangling loosely, seemingly unbothered by being held upside down.

There’s no mistaking that this is a demon. Not a formless lesser demon. They wouldn’t be able to withstand the light, even protected by the shadows of the forest. But they seem far too small to be a higher demon. Perhaps a baby?

Do demons have babies?

Surely not.

Every demon in existence spawned from the depths of the Otherworld, having escaped into this world when magic was shapeless and feral. This one must be one of the weaker ones.

“I am going to put you down now,” I say slowly.

The demon cocks their head to the side.

“I saved you—so don’t attack me.”

The demon blinks.

Taking that as an answer, I slowly turn them over and set them right-side up on the mound of snow.

“Stay,” I order, as I rise and begin to back away. Careful not to make any sudden movements, I inch toward Zasu and climb into the saddle.

The demon is a dark gray blot in the shadows, exactly where I left them.

Thanking the saints for my luck, I urge my mare toward home.

CHAPTER TWO

JOON

A dark shadowlooms just beyond the edges of my vision as I traverse the darkened corridors. Nothing but silence reaches my ears. Beyond the leaded windows, stars shine impossibly bright against the clear, dark night without the moon to command the attention of all who look toward the heavens.

This is the only home I have ever known, yet everything is unfamiliar.

Terror thrums through my veins, urging me to run… to flee back the way I came. I am helpless to fight the compulsion controlling my body, keeping me moving forward. The halls twist and turn in on themselves with no end in sight—a labyrinth of shadows.

The polished wood is painfully cold beneath my bare feet. I stop before an opening in the floor. Stairs spiral deep into the dark depths where something ominous and vicious waits.

Whispers in my ear layer atop each other like a hundred tiny voices. Words I cannot quite understand, yet I feel their demand in my bones. The pull to descend is undeniable.

Spiraling steps lead down to dizzying depths below the palace. Continuing until it’s all I know anymore. An endless eternity, stretching out.

I blink and I’m standing on solid ground before a rough-hewn opening, a path of dirt and sharp rocks that cut into my bare flesh with every step. But still, I’m driven forward.

Darkness swallows the world, until all that is left is the path a few feet ahead. The umbra pushes and shoves me onward until I stop before a rippling mirror coated in frost.

My hand, small like that of a child, reaches out, and I press it to the smooth surface. It crackles under my palm as it clears to reveal my reflection. The face is mine, but the smile spreading across my mouth is not.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” the boy who is me but not me says in a rasping, harsh voice of a man I do not recognize. “They didn’t have to die for you.”

Die… for me? Who?