Page 89 of Fated to the Frost King

And then we were gone, swallowed whole by frost and wind.

Chapter 31

Draven

We landed hard, the frost evaporating around our boots as the last tendrils of mana unraveled into the air.

Icewalking was meant to be clean. Fast. Controlled.

But this… This had been none of those things.

The mana unraveled slowly this time, dragging its chill through my veins like it didn’t want to let go, and the air around us still crackled faintly with the last echoes of the frost.

Everly’s hand was cold in mine. I swept a glance over her, making sure she hadn’t gotten frostbite from the icewalking taking so long, but she wasn’t shivering any more than usual.

She was always cold. Always pretending she wasn’t. Always pretending, period.

I wasn’t sure whether I hated her or respected her for it, but my mana flared up protectively all the same, especially when I felt the rough wounds on her palms from her clenching her fists.

My stomach clenched with a rare echo of remorse, and I dropped her hand.

She swayed beside me, one hand pressed to her side, her breath coming shallow and uneven, her skin faintly green.

The Lord General was waiting to report, but I was fairly certain if I pulled Everly along now she would vomit all over the courtyard. The skathryn peeked from her collar, eyes wide, tiny claws clinging to the fabric as though she too needed to brace herself.

I stepped back, to give her more room to breathe and to force the frost beneath my skin to still.

“Well,” Everly swallowed. “I never thought I’d miss the freezing sledge, but here we are. We…”

Her crystal blue eyes widened, and she spun around, trying to look in her cloak.

“Batty!” she squeaked, the sound reminiscent of her skathyrn.

I stepped forward, grabbing the trembling rodent and unclasping its hooks from where it had wedged itself between Everly’s cloak and gown. The menace hissed at me, flapping its wings wildly in protest like they weren’t shorter than the length of my thumb.

“You’re all right,” Everly grabbed the creature and made cooing sounds like it wasn’t a venomous pest.

I let out a slow breath, watching her carefully. Her color was returning, and she was no longer clinging to the edge of sickness, or didn’t appear to be as she fawned over the skathryn.

Her relief was palpable, coursing through the bond like it was my own.

Later.I told myself, running a hand over my face. Later I would deal with the strange tether between us, the way her presence pulled at something buried deep beneath my ribs.

But with her mana sealed and strangled by someone else’s will, perhaps she had been closer to the truth than any of us. Perhaps the Shard Mother was punishing us.

Either way, now wasn’t the time for reflection. We had to get inside.

A thrum of boots on stone drew my attention. The Lord General had come to us, striding over like he was preparing for war. His warrior’s knot was tightly braided, his silver-trimmed uniform crisp and immaculate, but the jagged scars crossing his face and throat stood out stark against the chill, echoing far too closely the ones carved into Everly’s back.

He stopped just short of us, bowing once. “Your Majesties.”

“Lord General,” Everly greeted, still cradling her skathryn like it might disappear.

I forewent a greeting, giving him a brief nod. “Report.”

Eryx handed me a roll of parchment, the wax seal barely clinging to the torn edge. His voice was low, clipped. “Just after you left, we received confirmation of movement along the southeastern pass. Two sightings in the last week. Unseelie. Not openly hostile, but they’ve been shadowing the outer villages. Watching. Testing our defenses.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. It was a different kind of monster than I had been expecting.

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