Silver Frost (Bitter Frost #3 of The Frost Series) Read online

  Silver Frost

  Bitter Frost #3

  of the Frost Series

  kailin gow

  Silver Frost

  Published by THE EDGE

  THE EDGE is an imprint of Sparklesoup LLC

  Copyright © 2010 Kailin Gow

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  For information, please contact:

  THE EDGE at Sparklesoup

  P.O. Box 60834

  Irvine, CA 92602

  www.sparklesoup.com

  First Edition.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  ISBN: 159748900X

  ISBN: 978-1597489003

  DEDICATION

  This dedication is for my husband who has been with me through the thick and thin of life. Although 13 years has pass since we said our vows on the first release day of Silver Frost, it seemed like yesterday when we pledged to be together forever.

  This dedication is for my mother, who fought three types of cancer for the last three years and is now cancer-free today. She is the strongest woman I know in mind, body, and spirit.

  Last, but most importantly, this dedication is to the readers – thank you for giving Silver Frost and the Frost Series a chance. It is because of you that I write.

  Prologue

  When I was younger, I dreamed dreams of Feyland. I was decked out in silk and satin – warm jewel tones hugging breathlessly against my body – dancing every night at the Fairy Ball. The waltzes were soft and low, my feet as light as whispers against the marble floor. I spent night after night in the arms of a fairy prince, who stared at me with eyes so piercing blue that I felt my whole body shatter and come apart ten thousand times in an evening. We would dance to the fairy waltz, tangled in each other's arms, gliding across the floor. The smell of bergamot would linger from the garden; the scent of jasmines would cloud our nostrils from so many bouquets spread across the ballroom walls. The light would sparkle as it faded into sunset, casting impish shadows through the stained glass windows. And I would be in the arms of a fairy prince who loved me, whom I loved with more power than the whole fairy kingdom could contain. But those were old dreams. I did not dream them now.

  Now Feyland had become a place of terror to me, and when I dreamed I screamed aloud, and woke up gasping, with my throat raw and my eyes red and bloodshot. Now when I dreamed of Feyland, I dreamed instead of the forest where Kian first took me on my sixteenth birthday, when I had first been stolen away from my normal, mortal life, and told that I was a fairy princess, destined to become a fairy queen. The forests' trees were black with shadow and the cobwebs of night; the terrain was rocky and sharp stones nipped at my feet at every opportunity. I dreamed that I knew nothing of my power, of my birth – and yet in the dream I was wearing the crown that told me that I was the Summer Queen, in charge of the whole expansive land of summer and light, crops, fertility, and sun. In my dreams I knew there was always on my heel an assassin, an assassin whose face I did not see and whose name I did not know, but whose purpose was made clear to me in the fear that throttled my throat and the terrified beating of my heart. And the assassin, I knew, wanted my blood, wanted my death.

  In the dreams I ran, ran with no magic or powers to protect me – for in the dream I knew none of my magic, but only how to run as fast as I could. I was alone, with no friends and no family, stranger to this even stranger place, where nothing and nobody made sense to me. The forests' tree-branches grabbed at me like so many sharp claws; the holes in the trees looked like eyes staring me down. The sound of the brook churning in the distance beat out the drumming certainty of my heartbeat, and as I ran the sound grew louder and softer in a senseless pattern, so that I couldn't even figure out where I was, or where I was going.

  And all the while the assassin's footsteps grew nearer, and I could see his shadow flickering out before me whenever he came closer. I could smell the smell of death stiff and brittle in the air; I could not breathe, or else only wheeze out sharp terror.

  At last I made it through the forest. I saw the Summer Palace in the distance – every night a little different in my dream-memory, but always unmistakable: the orange-stained glass, the cloud-capped towers that shone with golden turrets, the endless gardens out front with their spraying fountains and the smell, ever-familiar, of bergamot. And the palace meant safety – though deep in my heart it struck a chord of fear – but yet I knew my mission was to get back there, to escape the assassin deep within its chambers, behind its guarded walls.

  I ran, almost to the gate I ran, and began to breathe normally when the gate was just seconds away from my feet's reach, and then when I thought I was safe I felt the arrow ricochet straight through me and I fell to the ground. I fell to the ground, tasting dust and bitter earth. The assassin came closer and closer – and I could make out a tall figure, a man's figure. Was it Delano? He had tried to capture me many times before, and the memories of the days spent in his dungeon fill me still with other kinds of nightmares. But no – the hair was darker, for then I could make out the hair and it is anything but Delano's ashen blonde? Perhaps Flynn? The Winter Knight was known for his prowess and for his cruelty – he would have done anything to please the icy Winter Queen, and receive the bounty for having won the Winter Court the War. But no – as his face came closer it was clear...the hair is jet-black, and the eyes are piercing blue, and I knew then that there was no face and no hair and no eyes in the world that looked like that, except for the face and the hair and the eyes of the man I loved.

  Kian.

  The Winter Prince was before me, with his noble, knightly bearing and the impossible beauty that is paralytic at close range. And I wanted nothing more than to vanish into his arms, and his embrace, but I saw the look on his face and I remembered then that he was my enemy and that there was only one thing to do.

  Run.

  I leaped into the air, trying to escape, trying to run from him – but always I knew it was futile. Kian would know my every move, my every thought. When I feinted left, he followed me. When I darted to the right, he was there first. And at last he caught me around the waist, wrapping his arms tightly around me until all breath was expelled with a sharp sigh from my body, and then I knew that I was caught; I was trapped; I was his.

  I turned to face him, and then I forgot why I could ever have wanted to run. In his eyes I saw only the memory of my love for him, and my fear turned to longing, as I wanted nothing for him to hold me as he used to hold me, kiss me as he used to kiss me. His skin was cold like ice, and I shivered to touch him. When we were together, he had always been so warm....he used to tell me that I had warmed him, that it was my Summer blood that kept him flushed at the cheek and his heart beating quickly. I could feel his fingers trace the contours of my cheeks, down the length of my chin and then up again, stopping at my lips.

  In his eyes I could see the same love, the same longing. I wanted to kiss him; I wanted him to kiss me, and I could feel his longing so clearly I could not distinguish between my wanting and his. And in his arms I felt safe, warm, alive.

  “Kian...” My voice was only a whisper. “I knew you would come for me.”

  His face betrayed no expression. His eyes seared through me. “I will search for you always, Breena.”

  “I've returned!” I said. “I'm back – we're together...”

&nb
sp; “To rule,” Kian said. His voice was sharp and cold.

  “To rule with you,” I insisted, my voice rising higher. “To make peace. To rule for you – for us – for everyone in both kingdoms!”

  “I will never forget you.” His eyes glittered, showing hints of silver as his voice was roused to passion. He closed his eyes, breaking the connection between us. “But we are at war. We are enemies.” His voice began to waver “We can never be together.”

  “No!” I cried out, reaching up to him.

  Our lips met in a kiss, a kiss so powerful and strong that it felt our bodies had begun to shake, that they had been rocked to the bone by an earthquake within our breasts. It was like the first time we kissed – that same sense of love so strong that nothing else mattered, nothing at all. I wanted to lose myself in that kiss, for the kiss to stretch out into eternity, to feel nothing but the intensity of passion I felt in that very moment.

  We broke apart, and immediately my soul cried out for him, longing for him, needing him closer.

  “I am sorry, Breena,” he whispered.

  Immediately I felt my body crumbling, shaking so fast that the very atoms of my being seemed to dissolve, and then I was dissolving too, my emotions shattering me, until there was nothing left of me but silver dust – and a final longing stare of awe, of passion, of love.

  Our bond was broken. We were no longer intended for each other. Had we deluded ourselves with our love for each other that love was stronger than magic? That love was all that matters?

  With that kiss - that fatal kiss the beautiful but deadly Snow Queen bestows on mortals, now inherent in her son - the Winter Prince Kian, the bond was broken with my death.

  Chapter 1

  I sat up sharply, the harsh glare of dawn striking my eyes like lightning. I could feel my whole body shaking, my teeth chattering as if I had just been submerged in a pool of frozen water. The dream again.

  It had come to me almost every night in the week since I had been crowned Queen. Sleep was supposed to be my refuge – the only time when I was free of the watchful eyes of Wort and the other advisers of the old Queen, whose purposes I was not yet sure of, but whom I decidedly did not trust. Sleep was the only time I was free – when they were not watching me, judging me, waiting for me to make a false move. And yet I dreaded falling asleep, for my dreams were the most dangerous time of all. In dreams I met Kian again, but he was not the Kian I knew, the Kian I had loved. He was my enemy. Tonight I had dreamed that he had killed me, and it was I who had shattered into dust; sometimes it was the other way around. Either way, the promise of my dreams was sure. Kian and I were enemies. I could feel my love for him when I woke, but at night I felt only fear, fear that our love would be impossible.

  I heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” I called, but before I could finish my sentence Wort strode in, followed by a demure-looking handmaiden who kept her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. In her hands was a blue bowl, emitting the familiar smell of kelpie soup. As a baby, I knew, I had repelled one of these creatures; as an adult, I feasted on them – making use of the restorative and relaxing powers the kelpies were rumored to possess.

  “Kelpie will put your mind at rest, my Queen,” said Wort. He came over to me and patted my hand; his skin felt like ice. “After all, you have had quite a shock...your coronation was so unexpected...” He dipped the spoon into the soup and brought it towards my lips.

  “No,” I whispered. I still didn't trust Wort, and I wasn't going to allow him to feed me behind closed doors, where there was no witness to any potential crime.

  “Come now, Your Highness,” said Wort. “You must be clear-headed and strong in order to rule as Queen.”

  “I was clear-headed and strong enough a week ago,” I said, turning up my nose at the smell of the broth.

  “But all Summer Queens drink kelpie soup,” said Wort. “It will regenerate your powers, allow you to regenerate. All royal fairies in all the kingdoms drink it.” Wort did his best to smile a reassuring smile, which only made him look more like a toad than ever. “You haven't had any soup for two days.”

  “Daisy, give her the soup!” Wort shouted. This was not the handmaiden I recognized – what had happened to the old one? Daisy seemed bright and cheerful enough, but her eyes had a distinct dullness to them. “Actually – come here. Open your mouth.”

  Daisy did as she was told and swallowed down a spoonful of soup. She grimaced.

  “That wasn't so bad, was it, Daisy?”

  “A bit bitter,” Daisy began chattering. “Though the aftertaste wasn't so bad. Ask me, I'll tell you to add a bit of honey and maybe some coriander – or a spring or two of rosemary...”

  “That's enough, Daisy.” Wort rolled his eyes. “The point is, you're still breathing, aren't you?”

  “I suppose so, sir,” Daisy looked confused.

  “Well, if Daisy says it's good.” I reached for the spoon, but couldn't stop myself from adding. “But next time put in a spoonful of honey and a dash of coriander. And maybe two springs of rosemary.” I winked at Daisy.

  Daisy grinned behind me as I swallowed down the soup. It was all I could do not to make a face, too. No amount of honey could disguise the bitter taste of kelpie.

  “I'll leave the woman to dress you,” said Wort on his way out.

  “Let's get you dressed, then, Highness,” said Daisy. “I've got a gorgeous silk dress you should try – all the way from the Autumn Court! Red and orange silk!” She presented it, and I gasped at the way the silk fluttered so lightly in the gentle breeze. Like a brilliant flame, the dress lit up the room, bringing out the natural copper highlights in my hair. No doubt it was a beautiful dress fit for royalty, but I had something else in mind.

  “The Summer Knight Rodney. Does he have any armor he left behind?”

  “Of course he does!”

  “I want to wear that. You can will it to resize, if you think it would be too big.”

  Daisy's eyes grew big. “But you're a Queen!” she protested. “You have to wear something befitting a Queen – Wort said...”

  “I'm afraid I don't care what Wort said,” I replied. “I am my father's daughter – and as long as necessary I will take over his duties in the Summer Court. Including going out and meeting my subjects.”

  Daisy’s eyes widen. “The last queen did not even bother visiting her own homeland once she became Queen…”

  I smiled. “Perhaps the last queen did not care to as she was content waging war from the safety of the palace. I am the new queen here, and I am not nor will I ever be like the old queen.”

  Daisy immediately cast her eyes down and knelt on the ground bowing down. “I’m sorry to have offended you, my Queen.”

  “No offense taken,” I said. I saw the girl breathe out a sigh of relief. “Daisy, I would like to know, however, how you came to be here. You are from the Autumn lands, right?”

  Daisy looked up and nodded. “We followed Redleaf, Princess of the Autumn Kingdom, here for her marriage to the Summer King. It was part of the treaty.”

  I nodded. I knew about the Autumn lands being merged into Summer’s sovereignty. My father Foxflame had told me about it when he explained how he had to marry his brother’s fiancé Redleaf to assure peace between the Summer and Autumn Courts. Foxflame and my mother were already in love and together when Foxflame became the Crowned Prince upon his brother’s death. With his marriage to Redleaf, the Summer and Autumn Courts merged.

  “Tell me,” I asked Daisy. “Do you like it here?”

  “Oh, well, there is plenty to do around the palace, and I’m kept busy…”

  “I mean, do you like being here in the Summer Court, the Summer lands?”

  “Yes,” Daisy said. “Here we have food; there is plenty of harvest and sun. In Autumn, many of our people faced starvation.”

  “So for the most part, most of the Autumn denizens were grateful to be part of Summer?”

  “I believe so. For me, yes,” Daisy said frankly.

/>   “That is good to hear.” I patted Daisy’s hand in a gesture of sympathy. “I’m sure the death of Queen Redleaf shocked many.”

  “She was one of us, an Autumn denizen, the last of the royal Autumn fairies,” Daisy said. “There were those who had hoped to resurrect the Autumn kingdom, but many who are grateful we are part of Summer rather than Winter.”

  I had to smile. At least the myth of how vicious and cruel the Winter Queen was would keep the Autumn denizens in Summer loyal. I wanted to see what my denizens thought of the new Summer Queen.

  “Get me Rodney’s armor, Daisy. I must leave when there is enough sun.”

  “Nobody will believe you're a royal in a knight's garb, Your Highness,” said Daisy.

  “That's the idea,” I said. “If I'm going to rule this kingdom, I want to know about it. I don't want people to tell me what I want to hear – not like the last Queen, who would have cut off their heads for disagreeing with them. I want to know the truth.” If I was to be Queen, I reasoned, I was going to be a good one. I was sixteen years old and had learned the truth about my identity a matter of months ago. I had a lot of catching up to do. And I was finding out that nothing was at all like it seemed.

  In a few minutes I had donned the silver armor of a fairy knight and mounted my horse, the slight tightness at my breastplate the only hint of my gender. I kicked my stirrups in and began riding – the path out of the castle taking me through the palace gardens. I remembered the first time I entered Feyland, how beautiful it had seemed to me then. It had been terrifying, yet its strangeness had given it a fairy beauty. I had dreamed about it so many times that the place had felt familiar from the moment I entered, but so strange was that familiarity that it felt I hadn't known the place at all. I had been terrified of the denizens of Feyland – the monsters and Pixies and fairies who lived there. Now this place was my home, and the few creatures that frightened me were now my neighbors – to be lived alongside, to be reckoned with. They still frightened me, and I didn't understand them – and yet I knew that I must. I was responsible for their lives, for their care. I was responsible for keeping them safe from the Pixie invasions, and from the collateral damage from the war with the Winter Court. I was responsible for their health, their happiness.