Mira's POV
The carriage hit another bump, and my head slammed against the frozen wall for the hundredth time.
Three days. Three endless, freezing days since Kaelen locked me in this moving prison and left. No food except old bread shoved through a slot in the door. No covers except the thin cloak I'd worn at the wedding. And no explanations about where we were going or why he'd left me alone after dropping that terrifying bombshell about the binding showing everything.
I hugged my knees tighter, trying to conserve warmth. My breath came out in white puffs that turned to ice crystals before dissolving. This was nothing like the Southern Kingdom's gentle winters. This was cold that bit, that clawed, that wanted me dead.
Through the tiny barred window, I watched the world turn into nightmare.
The trees weren't trees anymore—they were twisted statues of ice that looked like screaming people frozen mid-run. The snow didn't fall softly. It struck in horizontal sheets, driven by wind that howled like dying animals. And the sky... the sky was wrong. Purple and gray and black all mixed together like a bruise that never healed.
"Where are we?" I whispered to no one.
As if answering, something moved outside the window.
At first, I thought it was just wind-blown snow. Then I saw the teeth.
A creature made of live blizzard pressed against the glass, its face constantly shifting—forming and reforming features that weren't quite animal, weren't quite human. Eyes like black pits in white fog. A mouth that opened too wide, showing ice fangs.
I screamed and threw myself backward.
The thing laughed. Actually laughed. The sound was wind through broken windows, nails on ice, everything terrible mixed together.
Then it was gone, swept away by the carriage's speed.
My heart hammered so hard I thought it might crack my ribs. That wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Monsters didn't exist. They were just—
The carriage jerked to a stop.
I heard voices outside. Angry sounds. One of them was the guard who'd been driving—the same one who'd sneered at me during the wedding.
"—shouldn't even be traveling this route," he was saying. "Frost demon country. If the King wanted her dead, he should've just said so instead of—"
"Careful." A woman's voice, sharp as breaking ice. "That's your Queen you're discussing."
"Queen." The guard spat, and I heard the sound hit frozen ground. "She's a person. A lying person who tricked him with whatever magic—"
"The binding accepted her," the woman interrupted. "That means something, whether you like it or not. Now shut up and drive. We're behind schedule, and I don't fancy explaining to His Majesty why we let his bride freeze to death."
The carriage lurched forward again.
I pressed my face against the window, trying to see who'd saved me, but all I caught was a flash of white hair and silver armor before we were moving too fast.
Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time felt wrong here, like the cold had frozen it too.
When the carriage finally slowed again, I thought we were stopping for another fight. Instead, the door flew open, and freezing wind rushed in like a live thing.
"Out," the guard ordered.
My legs barely worked after days of sitting. I stumbled out and instantly fell to my knees on ice-covered ground. The cold burned through my dress in seconds.
"Get up," the guard said. He wasn't even looking at me. He was looking at something ahead, and his face had gone pale. "You need to see this."
I forced myself to stand, using the wagon wheel for support. Then I turned.
And my breath stopped.
A castle rose from the frozen mountains like a black crown made of dreams. It wasn't built—it was carved from the rock itself, all sharp angles and impossible towers that shouldn't be able to stand. Ice covered everything, making it shimmer purple-black in the weird twilight. And at the very top, I saw shapes moving. Huge shapes with wings.
"The Frostspire Citadel," the woman's voice said behind me. She was older than I'd thought, with silver-white hair in a warrior's braid and eyes that glowed slightly gold. "Home of the Dragon King and his court. Your new home."
"That's not a home," I whispered. "That's a tomb."
She smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "Smart girl. Most humans don't understand that until it's too late." She pointed forward. "The King is waiting. Try not to embarrass yourself when you meet the court. They're already betting on how long you'll live."
"How long did the others last?" The question emerged before I could stop it. "His other wives. How long before they died?"
The woman's smile disappeared. "The longest made it four months. The shortest..." She paused. "Three days."
Three days. The same amount of time I'd been stuck in this carriage.
"What killed them?" My voice shook.
"That," the woman said softly, "is the question everyone wants answered." She leaned closer, and I smelled winter weather and old magic. "But here's what you need to understand, little bride. Those women were stars. Trained officials. Powerful magic users. And they all died anyway." Her golden eyes cut through me. "You're just a scared girl playing dress-up. What makes you think you'll do any better?"
I had no answer. Because she was right. I was nobody. Nothing. A servant claiming to be royalty, marching toward a death everyone expected.
The guard grabbed my arm, pulling me forward. "Enough talking. The King doesn't like being kept waiting."
We crossed a bridge made completely of ice—I could see the bottomless chasm beneath our feet—and approached massive gates carved with dragons. They opened without anyone touching them, moaning like waking giants.
Inside was worse than outside.
The backyard was full of them. Dragons in human form, all beautiful and terrible, turning to stare at me with glowing eyes. Some whispered. Some laughed. One woman with white hair and cruel smile said loudly, "She won't last a week. I'll take that bet."
And there, at the top of black ice steps, stood Kaelen.
He looked different here. More dangerous. His eyes glowed brighter silver, and frost spread from every spot his boots touched. He wore armor made of dragon scales that reflected light like broken mirrors. And his expression was totally blank—no warmth, no recognition, nothing.
Like I was a stranger.
Like our wedding meant nothing.
"Bring her," he ordered, his voice carrying across the entire courtyard.
They dragged me forward. I tried not to trip, tried to keep some dignity, but my legs kept shaking from cold and fear.
When I reached the steps, Kaelen descended slowly. Everyone went silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
He stopped inches from me, so close I could see ice crystals building in his white hair. His dragon eyes studied me like I was a problem he was deciding whether to solve or destroy.
Then he spoke, and every word fell like a death sentence: "Welcome to the Frostspire, false bride." His hand shot out, gripping my chin and pushing my face up. His touch burned with cold. "The binding showed something interesting. You're not fully human—there's magic in your blood. Old magic. Hidden magic."
My heart stopped. How did he—
"So here's what's going to happen," Kaelen continued, his beautiful face showing nothing. "You're going to tell me exactly what you are, who sent you, and what you're hiding. Or—"
He released my chin and stepped back. Behind him, the courtyard changed. Dragons showed themselves, shifting partially—wings, claws, scales emerging from human skin. Dozens of them. All watching. All waiting. "— I'll let my court find out the hard way. And trust me, little lie," Kaelen's smile was all sharp edges and winter death, "they're very good at extracting truth from liars."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in a garden full of dragons who looked at me like I was dinner.
But that wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was the man who stepped forward from the crowd—tall, with dark hair and eyes that glowed red instead of silver. He smiled at me, and it was the smile of something that had been waiting a very long time for food to arrive.
"Hello, cousin," he said to Kaelen's receding back. Then to me: "I'm Dorian. The King's son. His only living relative."
He circled me slowly, and everyone watched like this was fun.
"I should warn you," Dorian whispered, close enough that only I could hear. "The King's last wife? She didn't die by accident. And the person who killed her—" His red eyes gleamed. "—is still here."