Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar Book 2)

The dragon’s fire blasted onto the water. At first, it felt like a warm bath, a relief from the ice. My toes thawed, and my muscles relaxed. Then, it became a punishing bath, the kind of bath that Ava enjoyed. The water grew warmer until it felt like how I imagined a volcanic lake. With Modron’s magic, it reached my shoulders, coils of steam twisting around me in a thick fog.

I grimaced, bracing for more heat. But just as I thought it was about to scald my skin permanently, icy power ripped through me. My ice magic surged through my veins, and strength pumped through my blood. My thoughts swam with wild euphoria.

When my throne had broken, the loss of my magic had felt like losing one of my senses. Now, it crashed back into me with a sharper focus than ever before. The power of it was almost overwhelming, vibrating through my bones. Cold magic spilled from my body, cooling the steaming river water.

Had the gods blessed me?

I snapped the chains that bound my wrists, keeping my hands hidden under the water. The moment Moria realized I was free, she would circle over me with the Sinach and set me ablaze.

Mist billowed around me. Once the water reached my neck, I ripped off the collar that bound me to the pole.

I dipped under the murky surface, sending icy currents out from my body. I swam through twisting streams of muddy river water—some currents surging with heat, others chilled by my magic. But with ice and dragon fire mingling together, the heat was bearable.

When I was close to the dais, I rose from the water and exploded with frost. Glacial wrath poured from my body. This was my kingdom, and I would protect it from these monsters, from the nightmarish shadows encroaching on it.

The Sinach roared, breathing fire onto me, but I blocked it with ice. A brutal stream of hoarfrost burst from my chest, extinguishing the dragon’s flames. Frost rippled over the creature’s scales, and it recoiled.

Moria leaped onto the creature’s back, and the Sinach took off into the skies, maroon-black scales gleaming with ice. As I climbed onto the dais, I searched for Modron. The old crone had already disappeared. The spectators in the stands were running, searching for exits.

The Sword of Whispers echoed inside my skull. I needed to get my hand on its hilt.

I raced down the exterior stairs of the amphitheater, following the Sinach on foot. I ran barefoot through the snow, but the cold no longer touched me.

I raced through the wind in my tattered white clothes. To my left, dark, bare trees lined the snowy fields, the castle a small shadow against the white expanse.

I pumped my arms, legs burning with exertion. Snow kicked up around me as I sprinted. I could run fast, but not nearly fast enough to keep up with the Sinach.

What had happened to give me my power back? Aeron, perhaps.

I didn’t have time to mull it over because Moria and her Sinach were circling again, the dragon’s frosted scales gleaming under the dull winter sky. Like King Caerleon, she’d try to burn me to death.

Except now I wouldn’t be so easy to kill.

The Sinach approached, scorching the earth with consuming fire. I countered with a plume of frigid air that doused the flames. The Sinach’s dark wings beat the air, and he opened his mouth to roar, his fangs glinting in the dull winter light.

Another incendiary burst from the dragon’s maw seared the air, but my magic crackled up my spine and erupted from my chest. Frost raced along the dragon’s scales, turning them white and glazed. The Sinach’s movements grew jerky and uneven.

Moria turned her dragon away from me, heading back to the castle. I followed her on foot again, feet pounding in the snow.

As I raced toward the castle, I spied a figure with black wings like a moth’s. My world tilted.

Ava, my love, what the fuck are you doing?