Page 43 of Wicked Prince of Frost

Prince Joon’s words back in the carriage return to me with striking clarity.

Perhaps I stole their lives with my cursed kiss.

I thought he was teasing, trying to intimidate me. He made it sound as such. It hadn’t occurred to me that he could have been serious.

My legs give out. Two strong arms envelop me before I crash to the floor. The prince cradles me against his chest and forces me to meet his gaze.

“Breathe, Violet.” He scowls down at me and forcefully moves my hand out of the way, replacing it with the press of his palm against my chest.

The cold caress of his magic is a balm on the burning agony of my episode, quelling it within seconds. The pain fades. My pulse returns to normal. I can breathe as if nothing even happened.

“Why is it that you are incapable of remembering anything I tell you?” he chides gently, almost affectionately.

He helps me sit up. I rub my chest, in awe that the ache I’m used to for hours after an episode is not there.

“Would you rather die than—” The rest of his words catch in his throat when I grip his wrist.

“Thank you,” I say.

He blinks, clearly not expecting gratitude.

I rush on before he can speak, “To be honest, I’ve never had an episode that bad before. It frightened me. I thought the worst, and that wasn’t fair to you when you haven’t given me reason to doubt your word. I’m sorry.”

Joon clears his throat. “It is late. You need your rest. Mingi and Iseul will escort you back to your apartments.”

DRAGON

Pain lances through the beast’s body. It struggles.

Fights against its magical bonds.

Lashing. Claws and teeth.

With a roar, it breaks free and claims the sky.

A beacon of soft light calls to it. Beckoning.

The agony fades… soothed by the glow.

Mine…

Too soon, it vanishes, and the beast releases its rage upon the world.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JOON

Shapeless nightmares fill my dreams.My ears ring, filled with distorted shouts and blood-curdling screams from equally distorted faces, and fires that consume with insatiable hunger. Destruction and death mix into a cruel visage that fades as soon as I reach for it. All of it is both familiar and unknown to me at the same time.

Early morning light spills through the window. Far too cheery in contrast to the shadows within my dreams. I need more rest, but convalescing in bed all day is not an option.

My muscles protest, aching and inflexible as I rise and make my way into the bathing chamber.

Violet fared worse than expected last night. Her heartbeat, an unsteady rhythm, weak and irregular.

She will not live long enough to find the last of them. Not without my intervention.

If she dies, I die with her.