Page 62 of Wicked Prince of Frost

I let my forehead fall against his chest. He lets me stay there.

“You should not have pushed it.”

“It wasn’t so bad this time.” I smile weakly. “Don’t worry, I know I’m no use to you dead.”

“Do not take this so lightly, Violet,” he snaps.

“I understand the risks, and I am fine now.” I step back, and his arms fall away. The air is noticeably colder than before. Or maybe it only seems that way after the warmth of his embrace. “Are you worried about me?” I ask with a teasing smile.

“Of course I am.” The harshness of his voice is a sharp contrast to his words.

I don’t have the faintest idea how to respond.

Joon jerks his head toward the window, eyes wide. “I did not expect to sense another so soon.”

It should be good news, but he looks distraught.

“We should leave now,” I say, remembering how our first search took us all over the fae lands of Arum before the trail went cold.

Joon turns to me and shakes his head. “It is one thing to leave before dawn, but another entirely to leave near nightfall.”

“Then there’s no time to waste.” I grab his wrist and tug him toward the door.

He resists. “Violet.”

I round on him. “There is nothing that can be done for my condition, butwecando this for you.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “It could be closer than you think. And if there’s not enough time to safely make it back, we can stop somewhere or find shelter or figure something else out.”

Joon is silent for a long moment. “Now you sound worried about me.”

I wave a hand. “Purely selfish reasons. I don’t get what I want until you succeed,” I say airily. Though not entirely untrue, it doesn’t quite ring as honest as it once would.

It takes more prodding than expected, but less than half an hour later, we are on the road, galloping toward the unknown destination of the next shard. The urgency to outrun the night and to end his curse before he is out of time is tangible between us.

I press against his back with my arms around his waist. We are married in name only for the sake of our bargain; holding on to him shouldn’t come as naturally as it does.

Around us, the landscape jumps from one to the next as he opens path after path, letting one fade and the new one form. If he uses too much of his power, I think I should be able to handle another siphoning.

We stop on the outskirts of a town with an hour of sunlight to spare.

“It is close,” he whispers, though there is no one around to overhear.

He pants from the exertion of using so much magic in a short time. It would be best for him to preserve what remains to avoid having to siphon again so soon.

“It would be faster to go through than around,” I say.

The tingling sensation of his magic envelops me as Joon disguises us with a glamour and urges the horse onward.

His entire body is rigid with tension as we pass through the main road, being as inconspicuous as possible.

I recognize this place. It’s where we stopped on our journey to the palace after the Choosing. At the time, I didn’t take the opportunity to really take it in. The city has a comforting feel, with citizens milling about unhurried as lanterns, already lit in anticipation of night, line the streets and paths like a thousand stars fallen to earth.

A young man climbs a ladder as an older couple, who I assume are his parents, survey him. The woman frets, wringing her hands as her husband passes a freshly painted sign for their son to hang. The sign reads “The Dragon’s Tome,” and I wonder what books they have that I can only dream about getting my hands on.

The dimming light casts a strange shimmer over the young man as a beam passes through a thin break between buildings. Even the sunsets have an air of magic to them on this side of the border.

It stings to see a happy family like the one I once had, and I wonder if Joon feels the same or even notices them.

Hours seem to pass before we make it through the quaint town. We slip into the woods and weave between the trees until we reach the edge of a sprawling field of flowers.