Page 44 of Fated to the Frost King

A Mirrorbane.

A string of curses slipped past my lips, lost to the wind and the screams of terrified courtiers.

My blood turned to ice. From what I had read, they weren’t as aggressive as Tharnoks, or as fast, but they were a terror in their own right, not just because of their ability to hide in plain sight.

But, there shouldn’t be one here.

They were isolated. They didn’t seek people out or climb towering walls. And they didn’t hunt in the daytime.

They couldn’t.

None of the frostbeasts could.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the creature moved fully into view. It was taller than any fae, hunched and rimed with frost like the cold had claimed it from the inside out. Its limbs moved in too many directions at once, joints bending at angles that didn’t make any sense.

With every step, its flesh cracked and shifted, mimicking the stone, and snow, and bark, as if it hadn’t yet decided what it wanted to be.

Nevara went from utter stillness to fury in motion. The light caught on her staff as she spun it through the air, releasing a pulse of mana that hit the creature broadside. A spray of iridescent light burst against its hide, forcing it to reel backward, but not far enough.

The Mirrorbane exploded into motion, shrieking in fury as it tore through the garden. It blurred between shapes—tree, snowbank, hedgerow—striking at the fleeing courtiers from impossible angles.

Shards damn it all.

I took advantage of the general bedlam to reach under my skirts for my dagger, keeping it tucked close to my side and out of sight.

A jagged root shot out, yanking a courtier near the fountain off his feet and splitting him in two. The male running next to him fell backward, his scream dying mid-breath.

Soren surged forward, his hands pulsing red with Autumn fire. He hurled it at the beast in searing waves that hissed and cracked against its shifting hide. The Mirrorbane screamed,louder this time, a piercing, unnatural sound that clawed at my ears and scraped along my spine.

Lumen lunged with a savage snarl, fangs flashing as he launched himself at the frostbeast. But the monster flickered, phasing in and out of reality, one moment a glowing tree, the next a bed of frostlilies, almost like it was enjoying the game.

Still, the wolf found purchase. His jaws sank into one of the thrashing, vine-like limbs. Black blood oozed thick and slow, hissing where it hit the snow. The creature shrieked higher, harsher, then lashed out.

Another tendril whipped forward, wrapping tight around Lumen’s torso. It yanked him off the ground and flung him across the garden like he weighed nothing.

Bile surged up my throat.

He hit a marble pillar with a sickening crack, the sound loud enough to shatter breath from my lungs.

“No!” I screamed, reaching for the wolf as even more fire and iridescent light came sailing through the air.

The sound of bootsteps on stone echoed in the distance as the remaining courtiers fled the gardens, while the guards stepped forth to protect them. Or tried to. Screams cut short and spells fizzled, the snow drinking down the silence just as eagerly as it had the blood.

Nevara was in front of me in a flash—her staff gripped tight, pulsing with pale pink light. She charged forward as her cloak whipped behind her like a banner of fury.

She moved with terrifying grace, each motion honed by something deeper than sight. Her staff sliced through the air, guiding ribbons of concentrated mana that struck the monster like flickers of lightning, carving glowing rents in its shifting hide.

Another unearthly shriek tore from the beast as it turned to mist and vanished into nothing.

Breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat, every muscle locked tight. My knuckles whitened around the hilt of my dagger, and the tips of my nails bit into the palms of my hands hard enough to break the skin.

None of us were foolish enough to believe it had fled.

Blood dripped from my clenched fists onto the snow as I scanned the gardens for any sign of movement. The seconds ticked by like hours. My heartbeat drummed in my ears, thundering faster and faster until my breaths were coming too quickly. Panic clawed at my ribs, desperate to escape.

I took a deep breath in and held it as long as I could, willing my heartbeat to slow.

Across from me, Nevara stood tense, her staff glowing faintly where it touched the cracked stone. Her shoulders rose and fell with ragged, controlled breaths as she tilted her head slightly, listening to something no one else could hear. Her eyes were pinched shut, face taut with effort—until the ground beneath her feet began to rumble.

---