Page 23 of Frost Bound

Backwards it was.

Dahlia fled down the stairs. She darted to the right at the first landing, heart racing. The short hallway led to a large, circular, domed room lit by small decorative lanterns. Floor-to-ceiling plush curtains puddled on the stone floor. Divans and couches littered the center of the enclosed indoor pavilion.

The voices grew louder still.

She reached the first alcove and yanked back the curtain, only to hesitate. A bed. What if the queen’s destination was this bed? Plus, there was too much light. Nowhere to hide.

Lia dropped the curtain and sprinted for the farthest alcove. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as she slipped behind the fabric. Thankfully, this alcove was dark. She clutched the tray to her chest and tried to breathe shallowly. Her pulse leapt as she spotted the queen and her entourage through the crack between the curtain and the wall.

“I want this pavilion to be transformed into a state of decadence by the morning,” Allium commanded.

“It will be done,” a matronly servant commented, a firm line between her thick gray brows.

Dahlia backed away from the curtain as the queen moved out of sight, her voice drawing nearer. “Those bloody monsters ruin everything! To arrive early is beyond rude.”

Arrive early?

Lia stepped back onto what felt like someone’s boots. She frowned, brows furrowing. What the devil was that? Glancing over her shoulder, Dahlia squinted into the dark, making out a shape.

A statue. It was just a massive statue.

She blinked up at the naked, masculine chest and pierced nipples bathed in shadows before rolling her eyes. Only in the Asteran palace would she find something so crude and barbaric.

“Get this place cleaned,” the queen seethed right outside the curtain. “I will not have our enemies believe we’re simpletons incapable of cleanliness.”

Dahlia’s attention snapped back to the flimsy textile separating herself from the monarch. It waved as someone passed it.

She drew farther back, her back brushing against the statue. There was nowhere to hide. Dahlia hugged the tray close to her chest.

Please don’t let her find me.

The air changed and the hair along the nape of her neck rose a moment before a huge hand closed over her nose and mouth. She released a little squeak and tried to surge forward. A tree-like arm banded around her middle and jerked her back into a hot, hard body, knocking what little air she had from her lungs. The tray dug into her ribs painfully, caught beneath her attacker’s arm.

She clawed at their forearm with her fingernails, desperate to escape. Their breath skated across the top of her head.

“Don’t fight or I’ll kill you,” a deep, terrifying, heavily-accented voice hissed in her ear.

Chapter Nine

Neve

This was notwhere he wanted to be.

The tinyvallesin his arms flailed and scratched at his forearm with her blunt, clawless nails.

It was pathetic.

As if she could get away.

He cocked his head, tracking the sound of the queen and her entourage.

They were right outside the nook. If Neve didn’t get the human under control, they’d both be exposed. And that was something he couldn’t afford.

“Don’t fight or I’ll kill you,” he growled softly in her ear, her language feeling uncomfortable on his tongue. While he’d learned their common tongue as a child, it wasn’t often that Neve had spoken it.

She froze, terror perfuming the air so much that his eyes watered.

Godsteeth, he hated that stench, but at least she believed him.

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