Page 95 of Wicked Prince of Frost

Joon’s nostrils flare. “Since when do the two of you get along so well?”

“We can’t always disagree on everything,” I say with a shrug, not bothering to hide a triumphant smirk.

“Fine.”

Imugi slips out of their perch and slowly circles above the horse’s head. Twin streams of fog pour from their nostrils,condensing into a thick cloud. It moves curls as though alive toward the horse’s muzzle, then into the beast on an inhale.

Joon urges the mare into a run, and we race in the direction of the palace. The sun begins its descent toward the horizon. There’s a good chance it will be dark before we reach the palace.

My nerves strain at the thought of being out in the open when that happens. Despite the fact that both Joon and Imugi are with me and able to drive demons away, the recent attack is still too fresh in my memory.

That feeling worsens as we enter the edge of the forest. The canopy overhead blocks most of the light. Leaves cast shadows in all directions that shift in the air currents.

Joon gathers the reins with one hand to slip an arm around my waist, holding me tight against him. His fingers splay over my abdomen, and his thumb brushes over my ribs absentmindedly. The feel of his muscled chest against my back chases away the chill better than a hot meal.

Has he always been so warm?

He must not realize how his hands make me feel when he touches me so casually. It makes me think there could be more to this than our bargain and the friendship that developed between us.

The rhythm of the horse’s gate causes our bodies to shift against each other. Warmth gathers in my belly, bringing to mind images of how it would feel to have his hands on me. To feel his skin sliding over mine, as he moves over and within me…

Or maybe Joon realizes exactly what he’s doing. Because it’s impossible to worry about demons when I am having such lurid thoughts about the prince at my back—thoughts I have no right to have.

I close my eyes, trying unsuccessfully to push the images from my mind.

We break free of the trees, their shadows giving way to the weak light filtering through the overcast sky. A storm looms atop the Maldan Ice Wall far behind us.

The Shadow Fields turns out to be a sprawling tundra. I’ve never seen anything like it. Thousands of dips hold layers of dark, frozen water that reflect the shifting, angry clouds above. Our progress slows as we weave through the tightly packed pools. They range in size from standard puddles to the size of Firnhallow’s main square.

There is something eerie about it that sends a chill crawling up the back of my neck.

The prince’s hold on me tightens as we make what feels like painfully slow progress after using the fae roads to travel. We ride for several hours, with the descending sun serving as a constant reminder of our impending deadline. The muscles in Joon’s arm only loosen when the end of the Shadow Fields comes into view.

A worn cabin sits on the shore of a wide lake about a mile beyond. Without lights shining through the windows or smoke rising from the crooked chimney, it has the look of being abandoned for a long time.

In the far distance, straight ahead and to the west, I can just make out the crossroads that lead to the palace. It will take at least another four or five hours of riding at this pace to reach it.

Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention. When I look, I find nothing out of the ordinary.

The sun disappears behind a wall of gray as the wind whips viciously. Small flurries pelt against our faces like needles of ice. The howling wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like a mix of screams and growls.

There is something unnatural about this storm. I twist toward Joon. The words on my lips turn into a cry of alarm as a massive demon, half the size of the horse, bursts from a frozen pool, spraying us with ice and water. I shield my face with my arms. Joon lets out a harsh curse, jerking on the reins.

The horse whinnies and leaps to the side, then runs wild, trying to fling us off as more and more demons burst from icy cores between mounds of earth.

Imugi is out, using their power on the horse once more. We move faster. Joon tries to steer toward the cabin and away from the field of ice wells.

A demon materializes a few yards ahead. The horse screams and rears up. Another demon seizes the opportunity to plow into our side.

We land hard. The horse flails as it gets back up and bolts, faster without our burden, and leaves us stranded.

My ears ring. Everything hurts from the impact. I push myself to sitting, pressing a hand against my head. I touch something warm and sticky. My palm comes away with a smear of blood.

“Imugi!” Joon yells over the cries of demons. “The horse!” He is already on his feet, taking up a wide stance beside me. “We need it! Now go!”

The demon responds, but I can’t hear what they say. Imugi heeds Joon’s command.

Now, it’s the two of us against a harmony of wild demons. And without a weapon or magic, I can do nothing to help drive them away.