Page 63 of Wicked Prince of Frost

Joon dismounts, striding ahead as if in a trance. I leap down and follow, feeling a little guilty about the way we’re trampling down the beautiful plants.

My heart plummets when he stops dead in his tracks. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say he lost the trail.

He falls to his knees in the dirt. My feet carry me over, and I kneel beside him. Joon’s hand trembles as he reaches for a folded flower, such a dark shade of purple it nearly looks black.

The lightest touch of his finger against the glossy petals is all it takes for it to unfurl as if he were the sun itself.

My breath catches in my throat when I see a shard of a mirror, nestled in the center of the flower.

He plucks it up and wraps it in the strip of cloth I ripped off my skirt on our last journey, then tucks it safely away. I didn’t realize he kept the stained rag instead of throwing it away.

I grip his shoulder. “You did it. You found another one,” I say.

He turns to me. His fingers tangle in my hair, and he’s pulling me to him. Then his mouth is on mine in a crushing kiss that steals the air from my lungs. His lips move against mine, demanding my surrender so he may consume me.

Joon releases me, ending it as abruptly as it began. “It is all thanks to you.” He clears his throat and looks anywhere but at me.

A lone demon howls in the distance, and my stomach answers as my forgotten hunger returns with a vengeance.

“We can return to the palace or stop here for the night,” Joon says. “Whichever you prefer.”

The feel of his mouth lingers on my lips. It has me wondering what it would be like to kiss him as long as Iwanted, to surround myself in his scent and feel his touch everywhere.

I shake my head. With thoughts like these running through my mind, I don’t think I can trust myself to be alone with him tonight. “We should return.”

His eyes search my face, and the knot in his throat bobs as he nods.

“Yes. That is probably for the best.” His voice is hoarse, and I wonder if he sensed the direction of my thoughts.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

VIOLET

My breakfast sitson the table before me, having long since gone cold, as my mind replays images of a painted sunset sky, Joon’s fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me to him….

Even days later, the phantom crush of his mouth on mine continues to linger. Heat spreads in my lower belly.

Stop being so ridiculous, I chide inwardly.

Something so simple should not have such a strong effect. After all, it’s not as though it was the first time we kissed.

But it is different, a small, traitorous voice at the back of my mind whispers. All the others were for the sole purpose of siphoning.

I shake my head. While I can admit that part is true, it is equally true that it was nothing more than a whim—a reflex on his part. Joon found one of the final missing shards. It most certainly wasn’t out of desire or affection. It could have easily been any of his previous wives in my place.

I rise from the table and cross to the wardrobe to get ready for the day. A long research session in the libraryshould clear my mind. I am here for one purpose and one purpose only: to help him break the curse so he can live and free the people trapped in the Winter Dragon’s enchanted ice.

I nearly jump out of my skin when a knock at the door jerks me from my thoughts.

It’s too loud to be Iseul or Mingi. It certainly isn’t the prince; Joon lets himself in without announcing himself in any way. Whoever it is, doesn’t speak.

After a pause, they knock again. I finish dressing before answering the door to a stern-faced woman. She’s dressed in the standard deep blues and silver of the Arum palace guard uniform.

“Lady Hawthorn, your presence is requested by the king,” she says flatly.

“What is this about?” I ask, rapidly sifting through all my words and actions since arriving that could possibly warrant a summons, only to come up empty.

The guard stands silently, her gaze fixed straight ahead.