Kiss of Frost (The Dragon Stone Saga Book 1)

Kiss of Frost (The Dragon Stone Saga Book 1)

Graceley Knox




To Dee Miers

I’d have thrown this book out the window without your help. I can’t wait to see what shenanigans we get up to this year!





Prologue





Betrayal.

The place reeked of it. Blood and sweat torn from those who'd been sacrificed for gold, power, or something far less valuable—but just as costly. Iron chains secured Beck's arms to his sides, preventing him from using any of his magic.

Mages and their tricks. They'd finally caught up with his clan and now Beck and his brothers would pay the price. He twisted against his restraints. No give, not even an inch. All of this chaos, this unnecessary destruction, for a chance at power.

Human greed had never known any bounds.

The Sarkany Clan had avoided the Order of Ophal for centuries, but one simple mistake had put their entire future at risk. Beck had trusted the wrong man, a human, and never would again. Guilt and fury slammed into him like a thousand violent waves as two lesser mages grabbed Ryker by his throat to secure chains about his neck. Ryker thrashed against the magic-laced bonds that, with each touch, burned with more potency than the sun itself.

"Get your fucking hands off of him!" Beck roared from across the cellar. The dragon within his soul paced and snorted with rage at the sight of his brother's distress. He was helpless and those of Dragon blood never felt helpless. Beck's only task, his most important, was to secure the future of his people. Now he'd not only failed them, he'd failed his family as well. Instead of securing their future, he'd sealed their doom.

Another pair of lesser mages dragged Jagger from the far wall and forced him face first upon the cement slab beside the altar. His jaw and temples pressed awkwardly onto the hard surface and his eyes connected with Beck's. Gods help them. Beck would bear witness to his brother's end. He only hoped his sister, Isobel, would never suffer the same fate as the three of them. They'd sent her away, as far as could be, before all of this began.

Dayphis, the head mage, walked to the fire and pulled off a midsized sable kettle. He lifted it from the rack and placed it upon an altar that rested in the center of the damp cellar. Slowly, he poured the contents onto the red cloth covering. Sparks of magic and smoke drifted toward the ceiling as a half-dozen gemstones scattered along the fabric. Cautiously, he sorted the jewels into their respective colors of emerald, ruby, and azure.

The mage pulled a curved dagger from under his cloak and strolled toward Ryker with a wide smile on his face.

Panic forced words from Beck's lips. "You won't succeed in this, Dayphis. As one falls, others rise. You can't get rid of us all."

Dayphis stilled and turned to Beck. "Strong words for the man who sits at my mercy." He flipped the blade in his hand and walked toward Beck until he stood not a foot away. He leaned in. His hot breath stank of spices and iron. "The time of dragons is over. The age of mages has begun." Then he stabbed the blade into Beck's side.

Beck lurched forward before his body jerked back against the chains. Ryker and Jagger roared, calling out to Beck as they flailed against their captors. Each of his brothers' voices and the sounds of the cellar faded until they had become a distant memory as the last light of the world disappeared and darkness took him with it.





Chapter 1





Jem drops a box next to me, dust flying everywhere, dancing in the beams of light through her sunroom. She pushes back her pin-straight chestnut hair and huffs.

"Why did I agree to do this again, Ivy?" she asks as she opens another box with the box cutter.

I sneeze. Once, twice, and a third time. "I've got no idea, but you didn't tell me it would be this dusty." I pull my curly black hair back into a messy bun and wipe dust bunnies off my yoga pants. She asked me to help her look through a few boxes out of the garage. I'd forgotten just how many effing boxes we have out there. It's like a freaking storage facility.

"Sorry, I forgot about your allergies." Jem cringes. "I thought it would be a few boxes, not half of her garage."

"It's fine." I'll just be popping allergy pills like candy tonight, trying not to lose my voice as I sneeze. "What exactly are we looking for again? A box full of what?"

"Some old jewelry. My mom is frantic to find it. She thinks she left it in the garage rather than the storage at the shop." She shrugs.

Her mom is always frantic about something. Having to open her antique store on time. Having to get groceries or go to the next estate sale. She's eccentric, but she's always been there for Jem and me. When my mother abandoned me, she took me in, adopting me as her own. I'm forever in her debt for keeping me out of the foster care system and for teaching me that I am wanted and I'll always be loved.

"Well, I'll make more coffee and grab another box and we can get to work." I make the coffee and grab two boxes, dropping them off in the sunroom. I shuffle into the kitchen, grab us two mugs, doctoring it exactly as we each like it, black for me, two scoops of sugar for Jem.

The opening notes of an eighties rock ballad float through the house, and I settle myself into searching through these boxes, laughing with Jem as we sort through old photos, weird items, and some pretty incredible stuff.

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