Page 61 of Wicked Prince of Frost

“No wonder he has been taking you with him on his outings instead of Mingi. He has been insufferable, by the way, pouting about being left behind and unable to do his duty,” Iseul does a playful, mocking impression of her brother.

Joon studies me from the other side of the table, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees. He pointedly ignores the embarrassingly loud growl coming from my empty stomach.

I glance longingly at the food, wishing to eat, but I wait for him to begin first.

“Oh, for demons’ sake,” I snap, throwing my hands up. “What have I done this time?”

“You two were acting suspicious.”

“If you want to know what we were saying, all you had to do was ask.”

Joon arches a brow.

“We were talking about you,” I say, earning a startled look from him. He hadn’t expected the blunt truth.

I get up and go around to his side and sit with my legs tucked. I reach out and cup his cheek, turning his face so he looks me directly in the eye. This close, he is paler than he should be.

“It was nothing bad, Joon,” I say gently. “Do you know how much Mingi and Iseul worry about you?”

He frowns.

“I told her I was curious about your life—don’t make that face. She respected your privacy, but she did ask me to give you a chance before judging you.” Lowering my hand, I sit back on my heels.

The muscles in his body relax.

“Then she said you obviously couldn’t resist falling for my charm,” I tease.

Joon snorts. “Hardly.” He fails to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before I catch it. He motions to my plate. “Eat before the food gets cold.”

The rise and fall of his shallow breaths keep me in place. “Joon, what’s wrong?”

His gaze snaps to mine, desperation and something else shadowing the different shades of blue. “I will be fine?—”

“Let me do what I promised.”

“Very well,” he says after a moment. He rises to his feet, pulling me up with him.

I reach up and wrap my arms around the back of his neck, bringing his face to mine, and will whatever power I hold within me to help him.

His lips are warmer than I remember.

At first, Joon doesn’t react. Then his hands find my waist. I cannot tell if it’s working, but when I deepen the kiss, he responds, his mouth moving against mine. He is like winter and warm honey at the same time.

When his tongue finds mine, I melt against him, forgetting everything beyond our bodies pressed as close as we can get. My appetite is replaced by something else entirely.

Then I feel it. The tug from inside my bones as the magic wakes, gathering, then races out of me and into him, and I nolonger know which way is up. I hold on tight as he crushes me to him.

My chest squeezes, bringing a sharp pinch with every beat of my heart. Joon starts to pull back, but I can sense that the transfer is not complete. The power still hums under my skin.

I tighten my arms around his neck and push up on my toes. He groans in response.

The pain in my chest intensifies until I forget how to breathe. He breaks the kiss, and I gasp for air. This time, he holds me, ready for how the siphoning affects my condition.

“Breathe, Violet,” he says, pressing his palm against my chest at the base of my throat.

Cool power seeps into me, soothing the pain like a balm. Each inhale brings more air to my lungs until there is no sign that the episode ever started.

The light glow of iridescent scale-like frost pattern passes over the back of his hand, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.