Page 91 of Fated to the Frost King

Nevara’s knuckles went white around her staff. She inclined her head toward Everly for a moment, her expression unreadable—concern, perhaps? Curiosity? Then she blinked, her gaze turning inward, distant.

“They’re not just attacking,” she said after a long pause. “They’re hunting.”

I bristled at the word, at the implication that Winter would be their prey.

Eryx frowned. “Hunting what, though? Monsters? Food? Or is this about more than that? Are they hunting for revenge? Finally ready to challenge King Draven for the Frost Grave Battle?”

Nevara pursed her lips. “It’s hard to say.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. I had known her far too long not to hear the nuance of what she had said. Shards, Nevara’s vague sidestepping of questions had taught me all I knew of avoiding an outright lie.

It’s hard to saywas not at all the same thing asI don’t know.

She might not have seen my glance but she must have felt the weight of the accusation all the same because she raised her eyebrows in a subtle yet pointed way, her message clear.

What happened the last time you refused to trust me?

It was a familiar point of contention with us.

Trust was a hefty request when the same dark fae that had wiped out the rest of the royal line were stalking my borders. They had started all of this. The war. The battle that had started the slow descent of my kingdom into ruin.

For all that my people and my wife accused me of being a monster, they had no notion of what my powers had kept at bay. Most of the fae who had fought in the war against Winter had died for that cause—gruesome, prolonged deaths without the offer of a mercy killing.

Then more were frozen at my side.

Bitter cold filled the room, shards of ice forming like crystals around the table and along the walls as I forced the memory from my mind.

The Unseelie were a scourge on the realm itself.

If the Shard Mother truly wished for balance, she would have granted me enough power to wipe them out entirely that day instead of stopping my frost at the edge of the battlefield.

I turned my attention back to the table, my hands flat against the polished surface as I drew some of the ice back into my veins.

My reflection shimmered faintly in the crystal-veined glass.

“What of the monsters?” I demanded. “Any new attacks?”

Eryx stepped forward, moving several markers along the map. “Two, near the outer wall. Smaller beasts, handled quickly. Only one sighting during the day, and it didn’t breach the perimeter. Patrols have held since your departure.”

Good. But not enough.

“And the villages?” I asked.

He hesitated, his jaw flexing before he gave me an answer. “More of the same. Four more villages have been attacked. Two of them were total losses.”

My hands curled into fists. I could not fight a war on two fronts. My soldiers were stretched thin. My people were getting slaughtered. Again.

And once again, I was the only one who could keep them safe. I wondered how much of my soul I would sacrifice for the sake of my kingdom this time around.

Chapter 32

Everly

As soon as the meeting in the war room was over, Draven walked me back to my rooms. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to unravel around me.

The Unseelie were attacking. Why now? Did they want another war?

And, of course, it wasn’t just any clan… but Skaldwings. It couldn’t be a pack of Lupines or Thornharts?

---