Three days after Kieran's death, the Fire Prince came calling.
Reign was inspecting the wounded when she felt it. Heat washing over the camp despite the arctic wind. The smell of smoke where there should only be snow.
She turned and saw him walking through the battlefield like he owned it.
Kael Veyr, the Fire Prince, picked his way through frozen corpses and scattered weapons with the casual confidence of someone who'd never met a threat he couldn't burn. His armor was scorched from recent combat, but his grin was sharp enough to cut through the cold.
The air rippled around him, heat meeting her lingering frost in waves of steam.
"Well," he said, surveying the c*****e with obvious appreciation. "Queen of Frost and Blood. Has a nice ring to it."
Her wolves tensed, hands going to weapo
