Page 4 of Kiss of Frost

My heart sped up. The air between the three of them thickened—nothing a mundane would notice. But I knew air. It was more varied and complex than most people realized. Emotions traveled on it. Strong memories could linger in it. Passion could turn it electric.

Like now. Lust crackled in the imperceptible currents flowing through the spacious, ancient room.

Dragons are polyamorous. It was the first thing young witches learned when we studied the other immortals among the Firstborn Races. I’d been taught that dragons were obsessed with their mates—both of their mates. But I never truly understood it until now.

What would it be like to belong to two people? Witches rarely married for love. My mother always claimed we meddled too much with potions and spells for fate to bring us the perfect match.

There was no question that Niall, Cormac, and Isolde were perfect for one another. The queen gazed at the men with love shining in her eyes. Her lips curved as Cormac lifted Niall’s hand and brushed a kiss over his mate’s knuckles. Heat flared in Niall’s dark eyes, warming his expression.

After a long moment, Cormac turned his gaze to me. “The Oracle of the North Wind is guarded by an ice dragon. His name is Graeme Abernathy, and his fortress is called the White Gate, which sounds pleasant enough until you realize it’s covered in a layer of enchanted frost that eats uninvited guests. Do you know how dangerous it is to approach an ice dragon?” The easy, relaxed expression he’d worn in the antechamber fled, replaced with razor-sharp intensity and power that sparked against my skin. “And before you answer, lass, you should know that the Brotherhood of Ice Dragons answers to no one, not even me. They’re emotionless creatures incapable of compassion. Abernathy won’t sympathize with your cause. Not because he’s cruel, but because he’s unable to feel anything at all.”

My stomach flipped over. “Yes,” I said, my voice raspy in the suddenly quiet Hall. “I know these things.” The elders had set me the most difficult task they could think of. They’d done it on purpose because they didn’t want me to succeed. They believed I was too weak to lead my house. Unbidden, my father’s last words drifted through my head.

A dark wind is coming, Georgie. Only you can harness it.

He died before I could ask what he meant. But dying words held their own peculiar magic. Only fools ignored them. If I was destined to duel with darkness, I needed the power of my entire house behind me.

I lifted my chin. “My father led House Blackwood for five hundred years. His seat is my birthright and my fate. I don’t need the ice dragon’s sympathy. I just need him to stay out of my way.”

Cormac’s eyes gleamed with something that might have been respect. “Spoken like the daughter of Ramsin Blackwood.”

“I only hope I can live up to his name, sir.”

A door near the hearth opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair entered the Hall. He looked down at a smartphone as he spoke in a distracted tone. “Chloe just sent new photos, Isolde.” He lifted his head and stopped short as his gaze landed on me. His green eyes went wide. “Oh…” He darted a look at Cormac and cleared his throat. “Uh, apologies, Your Majesty, I didn’t realize we had guests.”

“New photos?” Isolde asked, her voice approaching a squeal. She jumped to her feet and practically flew from the platform to the dark-haired dragon’s side. “Lemme see, lemme see!” She grabbed the phone from his hands and peered at the screen, her glossy black waves falling around her shoulders. “Oh gods, he’s so cute.”

The dragon cradled his hand to his chest and gave her a look of mock horror. “Nearly snatched my hand off.”

“Quiet,” she murmured, swiping the screen. “I’m looking at an adorable dragon baby.”

“Aye, he’s a braw lad,” the dark-haired man said, his handsome face breaking into a smile that so closely resembled the queen’s, I realized he was none other than Bram McGregor, her twin brother. They’d been separated at birth by a demon physician who kidnapped Isolde so he could extend his lifespan by siphoning her blood. Niall had scented her presence in the demon plane and rescued her, setting in motion the discovery of Mullo’s duplicity and ultimate death.

On the platform, Niall and Cormac wore fond expressions as they watched Isolde and Bram. Around the Hall, the other dragons relaxed, identical looks on their faces. The softest breeze stirred, layers of love and affection swirling in the current. And it was no wonder, if the dragons had welcomed a new baby. Now that the Curse was broken, perhaps one of the mated triads would produce a daughter. Any female born to the dragons would likely be spoiled and pampered beyond reason.

Of course, she’d also be surrounded by suitors once she came of age. Not one but two mates would await her.

My nape prickled as I looked around the Hall, my gaze falling on each warrior. Plenty of women would be thrilled at the prospect of two burly, commanding men vying for her attention. But the dragons were known to be ruthless about their mates. Once they found their fated female, nothing but death could stop them from claiming her.

The prickling in my nape turned into a shiver.

Another man stepped through the open door behind Bram, almost bumping into Bram and Isolde in the process. Tall and strapping, his wide shoulders filled the doorway. His dark blond hair was a riot of messy waves.

“Och,” he exclaimed, stumbling back with a good-natured smile. “‘Tis a traffic jam we’re having.”

Without warning, a powerful gust of wind ripped through the Great Hall, snuffing candles and making the fire leap in the hearth. As the current tossed my hair, the same electricity that had arced between the king and his mates slammed into me.

LUST. It struck me squarely in the chest, the blow so powerful it knocked me back a step. Instantly, moisture flooded my panties. My inner muscles clamped hard.

I sucked in a breath, mortification and confusion swirling alongside my desire. At the same moment, the newcomer stepped around Bram and Isolde. Green eyes locked with mine.

And turned the color of emeralds set aflame. The wind gusted harder, tousling his hair. Between one blink and the next, ghostly horns appeared around his head and then vanished.

“YOU,” he said, his voice echoing as he pointed at me. As soon as he made the gesture, another wave of lust hit me, tightening my nipples until I cried out.

“N-No,” I said, backing up. Or trying to. Because every cell in my body screamed at me to cross the Hall and fling myself at the stranger.

“Aye,” he said, his green eyes glowing more brightly as he strode forward. “You’re mine.”

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