Page 18 of Kiss of Frost

“Yes,” she said. “Both are spoken. It’s the intent that makes the difference.”

I touched the tip of my tongue to the bottle’s rim. “Tastes good, too.”

Desire darted through her eyes. “I’m a decent potion master.”

“Shouldn’t it be mistress?” I asked, raising a brow. “Because I’m totally on board with that.”

“You just threatened to spank me,” she said dryly. “Now you’re submissive all of a sudden?”

“Correction, I promised to spank you. It’s happening, lass. Mark your calendar. How much of this should I drink?”

“Two sips. Small,” she emphasized as I tipped the bottle back.

The potion tasted as good as it smelled—and it worked like a charm. Instant heat spread through me, chasing away the chill that had seeped into my bones. “You’re brilliant, Georgie,” I said, handing the bottle over. “That was much better than decent.”

She took a sip.

“Mistress,” I added in a silky voice.

She gave me a reproachful look as she corked the bottle, but I wasn’t fooled. She liked the compliment. I had a feeling she didn’t receive enough of them. Another item to add to my list.

Fortified against the cold, we resumed our trek. The sun dipped lower in the sky, but it remained bright, its rays turning the snow into a field of crystals. Giant mounds of frozen snow loomed over us as we lumbered forward. I’d insisted on transferring most of Georgie’s gear into my pack, which was stuffed with extra clothing and enough food for a week. She’d kept her backpack, though, and it bobbed with her movements. So far, the load didn’t appear too heavy for her. Maybe I could move more of her gear to my pack when she wasn’t looking…

“There!” she said, stopping and pointing. A castle tower peeked above the horizon, its stones sparkling white in the sun. Georgie looked at me. “It’s the White Gate.”

“Aye.” And I hope it’s not hungry. Unlike Georgie, I wasn’t keen on research. I hadn’t been the best student as a lad, and I preferred pop culture to the ancient sort. I didn’t know a whole lot about the Brotherhood of Ice Dragons—a lack I seriously regretted now—but I knew the White Gate was enchanted as hell. The fortress protected the Oracle, and it ate people who approached without permission.

“Are you nervous?” Georgie asked, eyeing me.

“What?” I drew myself up. “Hardly.”

“You look nervous.” She patted my arm, then moved forward, heading toward the White Gate. “It’s okay, dragon,” she said over her shoulder, “I’ll protect you.”

Cheeky witchling. “I’m not nervous,” I said, following.

“Try to keep up,” she called.

I chuckled as I let her take the lead, my gaze fixed on her pert backside.

The fortress was farther away than it looked, and we walked another hour before the full structure appeared above the horizon. As King Cormac had promised, it was coated in ice, with four sturdy towers pierced with arrow slits. A massive portcullis covered the front gate, its thick metal teeth thrust into the ice at the fortress’s base.

“Looks homey,” I told Georgie, squinting against the castle’s glare. The sun had sunken behind it, making the towers blush. If we were lucky, we’d reach the White Gate before the sun went down—or as far down as it would go in the Arctic in the middle of summer. I was building an argument for why we should stop and make camp for the night when Georgie asked, “So, how does it work?” She stabbed at the ice with her poles. “You’re a dragon, but you’re also an incubus.”

I smiled. “You want to know which half is more dominant.”

“I saw the faint outline of horns when we were”—she kept her gaze firmly on the snow in front of her as her voice caught—“together.”

“A quirk of DNA, I suppose,” I said. “My horns only appear when I’m feeding, and they’re never solid. No one’s really sure why it happens. There aren’t a lot of demon-dragon halflings running around. Demons love their horns. My mam is vain about hers, but I’ve never really given a shite about not having any.”

“Your mother… She’s a succubus?”

“Aye. Alive and well with my fathers in the demon plane. The incubi kingdom is a merry place, as you might imagine. I’ll take you some time.”

“Are you the only incubus halfling?”

“At the moment, aye. And that’s unlikely to change. Dragons inherit secondary magical traits from their mothers, so any bairns you and I have will be half witch.” I shrugged. “Of course, we won’t have children until we find our mate.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gnaw at her lip. I knew what question was coming next, but I let her take her time asking it.

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