Dreams of Ice and Shadow

Book 2: Frostbite

by Kathryn Troy

Synopsis

Luca has discovered his father's hideout. He hunts the legendary vampire alone, pushing Katelyn away to safety. Luca's pursuit of his father drags him to the edge of his sanity. But Dracula is not so easily bested. He evades Luca so he can tap into Katelyn's power—the magic that lies at the heart of Icarya. Luca's heart sinks as his father draws him further and further from his eternal love.

Across the Great Sea, Katelyn is summoned to the slave city Likhan. After the death of Seht Reza, Likhan teeters toward revolution as her nephew Darien seeks the throne. To help him, Kate must work alongside Alaric, the assassin who will stop at nothing to win her back in Luca's absence. The dark forces mounting against Darien leave Kate vulnerable to the destructive pull of her elemental nature.

When Kate attempts her most powerful spell yet, her life, Luca's happiness, and the existence of all Icarya hang in the balance.

Dreams of Ice and Shadow is the heart-stopping second volume of the Frostbite series, where gothic terrors invade epic fantasy, and Katelyn and Luca's passions burn brighter than ever as the dangers facing Icarya threaten to separate them forever.

Release date: May 18, 2018

Print pages: 192

Sample

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The Indigo Forest was steeped in shadow as the sun sank, staining the waters beyond the cragged slope leading to Cathair. The canopy of the trees pulled closed, a tightly woven net drawing the darkness into its dense center. There, a shape blacker than the forest’s deepest shadows lurked. Two bright lights ringed with a searing, luminescent red darted between thick trunks. Elongated paws crept through underbrush without the resounding crunch of dried leaves and dead grass. The beast stopped in a small clearing and rested on its powerful haunches. Baring its extended canines, the wolf reached its front paw up to its face. The paw separated into pale, prehensile fingers midair and reached into the mouth of a human face. The menacing canines remained. The lycanthrope’s clear eyes, straight nose, and thick dark brows made him the mirror-image of Luca. Or rather, this visage had been Luca’s inheritance. The sole difference was the cold, calculating countenance that was permanent on the shadow’s face.

            He retrieved the crystal orb he had carried in his lupine mouth, examining it carefully. He had taken the orb from an abandoned campfire, trying to uncover its secrets, and the path to wielding the untold power he sensed with every fiber of his undead existence.

            Dracula had studied for days and nights without end, searching for the clue that would unlock the magic trapped inside the crystalline sphere. Just as he felt he was nearing a breakthrough, his hideaway had been discovered by his son, born of a human mother, and razed to the ground. Luca had also succeeded in destroying Rene, the only consort Dracula had taken since unwittingly tracking his son across the universe and into the magical realm of Icarya. His seething anger was mitigated by his pride.

            Despite the setback, the vampire lord seemed to have stumbled upon the very answer he sought. Before Rene’s house had collapsed, the orb had soaked in blood and grown before his eyes. His piercing gaze dissected the orb now, sifting through its murky contents for an explanation. His pupils caught the impression of a quick, slight movement. He rotated it in his palm, but the center of the orb remained stubbornly obfuscated by a pale cloud of plasma.

            Tempting fate, the dark prince brought his index finger to his mouth, puncturing the tip and dropping a small quantity of blood onto the orb. The crimson droplet ran down the curve of the orb, filling in a crease in his palm. A moment’s disappointment was stymied as the line written in blood shrank, pulled into the orb by an unseen force. It took a breath, emitting a sound like ice expanding. Dracula peered again into the milky obscurity. This time, he spied an impossibly small, humanoid form.

            Elated, Dracula laid the orb at his feet and pulled a small, sharp dagger out of his singed coat. He dug the point into his hand, feeding the orb a continual stream, eyes gleaming as he watched it grow. Sensing his son’s nearness, he withdrew his blade suddenly. Their fated reunion, the meeting that Dracula had planned with such diligence for millennia, was rapidly approaching. Father would soon be ready to face his formidable son. But not yet. He grabbed the sphere, grown too large for him to close his fist around, and evaporated. The cells of his body transformed into waterlogged air, spreading a thick blanket of fog throughout the forest, looking for refuge.