Kiss of Frost (The Dragon Stone Saga Book 1) Read online

  Praise for Graceley Knox

  "Graceley Knox debuts with a fantasy that will immerse the reader into her world, and make them never want to leave." – Once Upon an Alpha

  “Graceley Knox turns adrenaline into words, then combines them with a true storyteller's magic into a novel I couldn't put down. Her alternative world is richly drawn but passionately explored, and occupied by characters now woven into my heart…” -USA Today Bestselling author, Angel Payne

  “Graceley Knox has blown me away… This tale will take you on a magical journey that brings Fae and Goblins to life. Definitely the best Faery book that I have ever read.” - Tina at Bookalicious Babes Blog

  “Magical, pulse-pounding, and beautifully romantic… I can’t wait for more of this fantastic new series. Graceley Knox weaves a wicked spell!” – Lara Adrian, New York Times bestselling author on Mark of Truth.

  Kiss of Frost

  Graceley Knox

  Kiss of Frost Copyright © 2018 by Graceley Knox

  All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Prologue

  11. Chapter one

  12. Chapter Two

  Also By Graceley Knox

  Dear Reader,

  Acknowledgments

  About Graceley

  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.

  "I don't even know where Mom finds all of this stuff."

  "I know. It's like she's got a sixth sense about it." Jem laughs, holding up an old mirror.
"Do you remember when she used to take us with her just to pull her wagons full of stuff for her?"

  "How could I forget? My body hurts just thinking about it." I pause, smiling at the memories. "We got some cool stuff though. And my closet thanked me for it."

  "Right? We were the best-dressed teens in the whole town."

  "Yeah, we were." We talk back and forth about our adventures on weekends and holidays, the trip down memory lane helping us pass the time while we search for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

  Hours later, I push my arms above my head, stretching my sore back and rubbing at my neck. "Are you sure that the box she's looking for is here and not at the shop?" I ask, praying that's the case.

  "She said it was here. Trust me, she already destroyed the storeroom looking for it."

  "What's the deal with this jewelry? Is it worth a million dollars?" It's not like they need the money. Jem's family comes from old southern money and her mom's store has been featured all over as the best place to find what you're looking for.

  "She just said it was important we find it in time."

  "In time for what?"

  "Who the hell knows." Jem closes up another box, blowing her bangs off of her forehead with an aggravated breath. "Want to call it a day? You know how Mom is, everything is urgent, and your allergies are obviously bad."

  "Sure. Might as well." I sneeze again and try not to scratch at my chest. I need a shower to get all the dust off me.

  We'll pick it up tomorrow. I'll bring doughnuts." Jem smiles.

  "With the—"

  "Yes, with the sprinkles." Jem laughs.

  "You know me so well." I grab my giant purse and head for the door, waving as I head to my little studio apartment above the shop.

  I throw my keys into the bowl Ann, Jem's mom, insisted belongs in this space before I toe off my shoes, grab a water bottle, and flop belly down on the couch. A few minutes into whatever happened to be on and I'm out like a light.

  A loud metallic clang echoes outside my windows. I jump up and look through the water drops decorating the glass, the moonless night making it hard to see past the stairs leading up to my apartment. There's a shadow just a bit farther down the alley behind the shop. Metal screeches against metal again and I grab the gun I keep locked up by the door in case of emergencies. I tiptoe down the wooden steps outside my apartment and stay as hidden as possible as I creep closer to the potential robber.

  Feet away, I stop, listening as they mutter under their breath, but I can’t make it out through the sound of the rain hitting the asphalt. I can't quite tell if it's a male or a female, but I don't hesitate. I raise my gun and point it squarely at them.

  "I'm armed! Stop what you're doing and walk away!" Thankfully my voice doesn't shake, because the longer I stand here the more I'm sure my legs are going to give out.

  The robber turns, and I see a flash of green eyes from the streetlights behind me. They hold their hands above their head and I bravely take a step forward, my heart pounding.

  The potential robber lifts their hands, slowly reaching for the hood of their sweatshirt.

  "Slowly." I inch forward another step.

  The black hood falls back and I'm face-to-face with a young girl. Maybe fifteen or sixteen, I'd guess. She's got sharp features, her chin jutted forward with defiance, and her beauty is something women would pay millions for.

  "Please don't hurt me," she whispers. "They said if I call the cops, they'll kill her." Her voice shakes along with her entire body.

  I eye her up and down, seeing if I can spot any weapons. "Are you armed?"

  "Only with a lock pick." She lowers her arms and shifts from side to side. "Please, they have my mother."

  My heart softens despite my efforts to keep it hardened against this child in front of me. "Who does?"

  "They do. They sent me here to get them something they want. I don't know who they are. They just showed up and took them." Her words come out in a desperate rush and I remind myself to stay cautious just a little longer.

  "Who are these people?" I ask suspiciously. She's not giving me much to go on and I'm intrigued but skeptical. I reach out with my magic but don't feel any malice from the girl. Only desperation and sadness.

  "I don't know. They broke into our house and have my mom and my little sister. They said they were after something powerful and that we're the only ones who can get it for them. I just want to keep them safe." Her shoulders hunch and she wipes at her face.

  Can I trust her? Powerful men who need a teenager to find something? I can feel a bit of magic around her, but I can't tell if she's playing me or if she's just unaware of the fact that she has any power at all.

  "Can you show me what they're looking for? Maybe I've seen it and I can get it for you and this can all be over." I try to keep my voice light and positive, but every action movie ever is playing in my head. The villains get what they want and they kill the family to tie up loose ends. If I give this girl what they want, does the same fate wait for her and her family?

  She shoves her hand into her hoodie and then thrusts it at me, a crinkled picture pinched between her fingers. I smooth the paper out and see a necklace. One of the chunky ones that are so on trend lately. Large gems surrounded by diamonds, the largest in the middle and the rest around it, varying sizes. Ann always did have a good eye for the expensive pieces. In fact, she's known for it. Finding that one piece that people will go crazy for at an auction.

  "I've never seen this necklace. I'm sorry."

  The girl sniffles and my heart breaks. Who would put a child in this position? No one good, that's who.

  "But my mom might know. She owns the shop."

  A small smile shifts her features and I pray that I haven't just gotten her hopes up for nothing. Maybe Ann knows what the piece is, or can find it if she needs to.

  "Do you want to come inside and get warm and I'll call her? It's late, but she's probably still awake."

  The girl narrows her eyes, looking me over with caution. "You're not going to call the cops?"

  "No, I'm not. I'm Ivy. What's your name?"

  "Kay. My name's Kay." The girl's lips twitch into a small smile when she introduces herself, and again, I get a feeling of sadness from her. It's like she's not used to being happy.

  "Nice to meet you, Kay." I step to the side and motion her forward. "Let's get you warmed up and see if we can sort this out."

  We ascend the slippery wooden steps up to my apartment and I turn on the kettle for some tea. Maybe a bit of chamomile will calm our nerves. I set her cup on the table and keep an eye on her as she appraises my small but homey living space. I unlock my phone and dial Ann, hoping she's awake.

  "Ivy? Is everything okay?" Her voice isn't groggy so I don't think I woke her up. Thank the goddess.

  "Hey, Ann, yeah, I'm okay, just have a bit of a situation over here." I glance over at Kay. "Do you think you can come down here?"

  "What's going on?" Her tone is sharp and I can hear rustling in the background.

  "It's hard to explain and I don't want to say it over the phone. The shop is fine, I'm fine, but I need your expertise."

  "Did someone break in? Did you call the cops?" More shuffling in the background and then the click of a lock.

  "No, nothing like that. I'll tell you when you get here. Was that your car I just heard start?"

  "Yeah, I'll be there in ten minutes. Make me a cup of tea. Something tells me I'm going to need it."

  I sigh. "Yeah, you will. I'll see you in a bit."

  I click off and turn to see Kay examining my small altar. Jem, Ann, and I are all practicing witches. From what Ann tells me, she and my mother grew up together in the same coven, which baffles me. My mother neglected me to a point that Ann took me in and raised me as her own. She got drunk on power and forgot about real-life responsibilities and obligations. Now Jem and I are in the same coven, doing what we can to keep nature happy, and occasionally freelancing for the police force.

  "It'
s an altar." I smile warmly at her.

  "An altar? Like for human sacrifice?" Her eyes go wide and her glance bounces from me to the door.

  I laugh. "No, nothing like that. I'm not evil. I worship nature, not the devil." She still looks skeptical and I sigh. "Satan is actually not even a part of pagan religion. A lot of it is thanking the earth for allowing us to be a part of the circle of life and respecting that."

  "So you believe in all that magical stuff? Like love potions and flying broomsticks?"

  "I've got a broomstick but it's not getting me anywhere. And love potions aren't really a thing, but yes, I believe in magic. You don't?"

  Kay frowns. "I don't know. If there was magic out there, I'd have gotten my mom and sister out of this already with the snap of a finger."

  "It doesn't really work like that and I can tell you about it sometime if you're interested, but if you're not, no pressure. Ann should be here soon and I was just about to make a plate of cheese and crackers. Are you hungry? "

  She shrugs her shoulder. "I could eat."

  I'll bet she could. Her clothes are hanging off of her petite frame and her cheekbones might be so sharp due not to genetics but hunger.

  A few minutes later I place the platter of gouda, grapes, and salami on the table just as my front door swings open. Kay startles, jumping up from her chair, and Ann takes in the scene with her shrewd gaze. She slips off her dripping rain jacket and hangs it up by the door, kicking off her shoes and walking toward us.

  "I'm going to need two things, Ivy. That cup of tea and an explanation."