Page 41 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

My heat builds as I dig my feet into the frozen sand and push both of my arms forward again, fighting the relentless frost, burning and burning through the oncoming storm until streams of lava and icy water churn around my feet, a growing river that reaches my calves.

As fast as I can burn through ice, more gathers, deadly shards closing in around me. Closer and closer.

As hard as I fight, I’m losing.

A useless roar leaves my lips as the wall of white engulfs me on both sides, snow pressing in around me.

I can’t stop it.

Whirling shards of ice cut across my skin like knives, the force of frost snaps my bones, and the clear patch of air…my hope…disappears.

The tempest swallows me.

Chapter Fourteen

Stellen

Awareness comes to me in pieces.

A thump of energy striking my heart, forcing the muscle to contract.

The shriek of wind. Snowflakes biting my cheeks.

A gentle tickling sensation at my chin, and the scent of Thyra’s hair like white roses. Her voice whispering urgently, coming at me like an echo…

Maxim.

A blanket lies over us, a cocoon of⁠—

My eyes fly open, my ears clear of deathly silence, and the chaos rushes in.

A fierce blizzard rages around us, shards of ice striking at my legs, arms, face. And at Thyra’s back where she lies as if she were trying to protect me.

She’s curled over me, her head tucked under my shoulder, her hand on my heart. She’s breathing, but barely.

“Thyra!” I jolt into a sitting position, wrapping my arms around her and keeping her close, turning my back into the worst of the storm, trying to shield her. “Thyra!”

I reach for her face, only for her head to tip back over my arm, her eyes closed and her lips blue. A trail of blood is frozen where it must have trickled from her mouth.

Deep, dark blood.

“No, Thyra! What did you do?”

That’s when I catch sight of her right hand where she presses it to my heart.

A band soaked in blood is wrapped across the back of her fist and around her wrist.

I don’t understand what I’m looking at until I spot the small sliver of yellowed material on one edge.

My sister’s ribbon. Seeped in a song carrying my darkest anger and cruelty.

My worst sins now clutched in Thyra’s hand.

I told her I was capable of horrors.

All my pain…

I thought those horrors would die with me. I wanted Thyra to have the anvil, to break the curse, as she’s destined to do.