Page 12 of Kiss of Frost

“There’s a visitor out here for you, witchling.”

I froze, wariness rising. Who would visit me at Castle Beithir? The elders couldn’t know about my mating already, could they? “Who is it?”

“The Consort.”

Shit! I stood so quickly that I banged my knee on the vanity. “Shit!”

“Everything all right, lass?”

“Yes,” I hissed, gripping the edge of the sink as I shook off the pain. I yanked the towel from my head, finger-combed my hair into some semblance of order, and squared my shoulders. It’s just Niall, I told myself. I already had Cormac’s permission to approach the Oracle.

Wait. Did I?

“Witchling?”

“Coming!” Gods, I had to stop answering to that ridiculous nickname. With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. The men stood on the rug before the hearth. Callum had put a shirt on, thank the gods, but his hair was still tousled from me using it as a leash. Niall was as menacing as ever, the inky threads of his barasta appearing to move in the firelight.

“Ah, here she is,” Callum said, moving toward me. His green eyes twinkled as he lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “You look fetching in that sweater,” he murmured. “It puts a bloom in your cheeks.”

“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth. Damn him, he knew it wasn’t the sweater making me blush. I reclaimed my hand and faced Niall. “You wanted to see me?”

“Aye.” He strolled forward, his boots ringing against the polished hardwood. “I bring a message from King Cormac.”

“Yes?” I held my breath.

“First, he offers his congratulations on finding your mate.”

“Thanks,” Callum said, the satisfaction on his face strong enough to power a large city for a month.

Niall gave him a mildly exasperated look before returning his gaze to me. “The king also gives his permission for you to approach the Oracle of the North Wind.”

Relief rushed through me. “Thank you. And King Cormac.”

Niall’s expression sobered. “This quest of yours is fraught with danger at every turn, lass. To reach the Oracle, you have to pass the White Gate. The Brotherhood of Ice Dragons is a dwindling order, but the handful of members who remain are fierce warriors. Graeme Abernathy is no exception. His castle is one of the most inhospitable fortresses in the world. But it’s not nearly as inhospitable as its master.”

Shivers prickled down my arms. “I know. I’ve studied the Brotherhood.” After the elders announced my quest, I’d spent days huddled in the library at House Blackwood’s headquarters in Manhattan. I’d devoured every scrap of information I could find about the Brotherhood of Ice Dragons. Before the dragons’ females died off, some of the males had undergone an elaborate, mysterious ritual to freeze their hearts. Once frozen, their hearts didn’t beat—and they became incapable of feeling emotion. This meant they could never fall in love. It also meant they were impossible to kill. Everyone knew the only surefire way to kill a dragon was to kill one or both of his mates.

But the ice dragons didn’t have mates, and they never would. This made them formidable weapons—and the perfect candidates to guard the immortal world’s most priceless treasures.

Like the Oracle of the North Wind.

Niall’s expression stayed solemn. “I don’t doubt that you studied, Georgina, but I can say with authority that none of the books you read tell the full tale. It’s been centuries since Cormac outlawed the practice of creating ice dragons. He’d already soured on it when Graeme approached him. At the time, our women were starting to fall ill and die. Cormac permitted Graeme to join the Brotherhood against his better judgment. Cormac regrets the decision.”

Callum looked at Niall sharply. “He does?”

Niall nodded without taking his eyes off me. “I’m not one to trumpet others’ tragedies, but in this case I believe it’s important for you to know what you’re facing. Graeme Abernathy joined the Brotherhood after he lost his mate.”

Callum paled. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well,” Niall said, tossing Callum a look, “you’re naught but a bairn among our kind.” Despite his teasing words, a shadow moved through Niall’s eyes. “It happened centuries ago. I’m not sure how Hamish died, but I believe it was some kind of accident. Graeme took his vows so he could stay alive. Although, I’m not sure you can call that kind of existence a life. Losing a mate is…” He cleared his throat. “It’s not something dragons can endure. History tells us only a few have managed it, and only due to some kind of magical intervention.”

“Like freezing their hearts,” I said, goosebumps lifting on my skin. I had to agree with Niall: a life without emotion was hardly a life at all. Why would Graeme seek it out? From what I knew of dragons, most followed their deceased mates into death.

Callum’s air of mischief disappeared, and a sense of readiness took its place. He looked ready to spring into action at the first sign of danger. “You should reconsider this quest of yours, witchling.”

My heart sped up. “I can’t. Trust me, I’m not looking forward to slogging through the snow and hoping the ice dragon’s castle doesn’t eat me. But I have to fulfill this quest.”

“Why? What’s so important about it?”

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