Thorns of Frost (Fae of Snow & Ice, #2)

“It’s exactly like that, but with practice it becomes near instantaneous and only requires a single thought.”

I knew we had work to do, that there were likely thousands of fields like this throughout the continent that I needed to save, but it would be so much easier if I wasn’t so dependent on the prince for everything. Perhaps then I could work without him and these insufferable reactions to him would cease. “Can I try?”

In a blink, his protective Shield was gone, and the icy gale bit into my skin again.

Closing my eyes, I felt for my magic inside me, that pulsing hum of power in my gut. All of my affinities were tangled together. My tutor had ensured me that eventually I’d be able to differentiate what was what and be able to feel their subtle differences, but I wasn’t able to yet.

My magic throbbed as it had yesterday, and I remembered how I was supposed to be practicing my Outlets, but I still didn’t know how to open them while also calling forth my magic simultaneously.

The prince’s heat fluttered against my body when he stepped closer. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he was there. His sheer size broke the wind, allowing me a moment’s reprieve from it.

“Picture a dome in your mind.” His mouth caressed my ear as his breath tickled my neck. “Let your magic rise inside you as you imagine creating a protective bubble around us.”

My stomach clenched at his nearness, but I scrunched my eyes closed and forced myself to concentrate. A flash of heat hit my skin. My eyes flew open to see a dome of fire around us. It melted the snow falling upon it, but it didn’t stop the wind.

“Oops.”

The prince chuckled. “Close, but not quite.”

Closing my eyes, I tried again. A dome. A shield. Allow my magic to rise. Create a bubble around us.

The wind slowed, and some of the cold abated.

“Good, very good.”

I opened my eyes and grinned when a similar dome appeared around us, but it wasn’t quite as strong as the prince’s. A few snowflakes still penetrated it, and a light breeze caressed my cheeks.

My grin turned into a frown. “It’s not as strong as yours.”

“But it’s still very good, Ilara. Impressive actually.”

“Really? But . . .” I held out my hand and caught a snowflake. “It’s not a sealed dome.”

“Only because this is new to you. Give yourself time. Your power rivals mine.” He sounded so certain of that, so convinced that he was right. “But you should conserve your strength right now. You need to replenish this field’s orem, and then you have training. It’s important that you’re resting thoroughly each night and consuming high amounts of sustenance. Learning new affinities demands much of a fairy.”

“So no late-night dates?” I replied hopefully. “Sandus told me the king has ordered that the Trial continue as planned, and that the Olirum Accords still stand, meaning that I have to date the other males.”

The prince’s jaw flexed. “That’s correct . . . for the moment.”

My heart pattered as that fierce light grew in his eyes. That strange need for him followed, as though my body craved for me to step into his embrace and bring my lips to his.

What in all the realms, Ilara?

I turned away from him, my breaths coming faster as I forced myself to rest my magic. My dome disappeared.

In a blink, another formed, stronger and larger, thanks to the crown prince. A flush of warmth blew over my face, and I raised my eyebrows at him. “How did you do that?”

“Increasing the air’s particle activity produces heat.”

I sighed. “However that’s done.”

“You’ll learn.”

“But obviously not today.” I sank into the snow and pushed the powder to the side until I found gray dirt beneath it. A tangle of thorny stalks encrusted in ice lay on top of the soil.

My lips tugged down. “How long has it been like this?” This field looked even sicker than Harrivee’s.

The prince sat beside me. “Over a full season. It was the first to fully die, the fields around it dying next, as though the orem’s death started here.”

Digging my fingers into the cold ground, I felt for a hum of life. Unsurprisingly, I found none. “It’s the same as the field by Barvilum. Nothing’s here.”

“At the moment no, but that’s why I brought you.” He leaned back, lying on the snow as though it were a bed.

I snorted. “Making yourself comfortable?”

“Considering we’ll be here for hours, I don’t see why not.”

Sighing, I set to work. Similar to last week at Harrivee, I sank my fingers into the dirt as I would have if I were laboring back in Mervalee. Not even sure what I was doing, I simply did what I’d done before—poured my concentration into the soil and imagined that I connected with it as though it were my garden back home, and a part of me wondered if that was why my affinity had worked. I did a lot of visual imagining while I worked the fields, and perhaps I’d unconsciously called my budding affinity to the surface without even knowing it.

I worked quietly, and the prince remained silent. Outside of his bubble, the wind raged, the sound loud enough that its faint scream slipped through his Shield on occasion.

I loosened more dirt between my fingers. “You seemed to enjoy Lady Endalaver’s company yesterday.” As soon as the comment left my mouth, I wanted to kick myself.

Why did I just say that?

The prince pushed himself up on his elbows. His lips curved as he regarded me with unveiled interest. “She’s certainly not shy, is she?”

I glared at him. “It doesn’t matter to me if she is.”

“Really? Is that why you asked about her?”

“I don’t know why I asked. Forget I said anything.”

“I don’t think I will.” He pushed up more, his smile growing, and now I wanted to strangle myself. “Lady Endalaver is powerful, but she’s not as strong as you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Considering I can barely call forth my magic, that’s debatable.”

“Don’t mistake practice for strength. She’s had several decades of training on you.”

“Yet I’m supposed to catch up in a matter of months.”

“It’s imperative that you do.”

“Why? You don’t fancy marrying Lady Endalaver?” Just the thought made bitterness coat my tongue, but I swallowed it down.

“Not particularly.”

“She seemed to have you wrapped in her affinity yesterday, so you could have fooled me.”

“Her affinity.” He scratched his chin. “Yes, that manipulation affinity she possesses is quite dangerous.”

It wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t deny being enthralled by her. Not wanting to continue any talk of Georgyanna Endalaver, I sank my fingers more into the soil, relishing its coldness as that old anger began to simmer inside me again. The fact that he hadn’t denied enjoying Lady Endalaver’s company only strengthened it.

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