Princess of Frost - Mila Young Page 0,60

only means one thing... There's another cursed in the kingdom. It's the only explanation.

Screams and thundering footfalls flood the village behind me, and I turn to the spreading chaos. People rushing to their homes, guards closing off the main road and ensuring everyone gets inside, while other villagers have packed bags, desperate to escape, except there's nowhere to go. The fucking hobgoblins ambushed the village and stole a dozen females in broad daylight. They killed several men and then vanished.

I'm seething with fury, muscles tight, while dread burns like acid in my veins. The army's ready, the villagers already know they need to keep low. Those able to fight have joined the ranks, and the plan is to use my ability combined with Licia's to give us a fighting chance. But if there's infiltration into my village by the enemy while security is posted and a poisonous wall surrounding it, then we're in deeper shit than I first thought.

Dread rages in my chest. Things just aren't adding up... why did the hobgoblins take a few females when they were going to come full force at us with their army? I refuse to believe this is anything but a game to get our attention. They are flexing their power, taunting us.

The enemy will destroy our world if we allow them to take over.

I march over to Tielo, the General of Strategic Planning who's talking to Kade near an open area at the end of the main road. Behind us the stone wall closes the access, making it inaccessible, while a wide road stretches out in front of us with homes and storefronts on either side.

"Have we searched every house?" I ask, needing to be sure the hobgoblins aren't hiding.

Kade shakes his head. "We're halfway through the village and there's nothing."

"The families of the kidnapped girls are knocked out and the neighbors saw nothing."

I ball my hands. "If they aren't coming in through the wall, then there's another passage. A tunnel? We're missing something."

"Of course, Your Highness." Tielo nods, his posture stiff, his voice clipped. "I'll send a small team to search the grounds again." Tielo marches toward the general farther away, while I turn to face Kade.

I exhale, my nostrils flaring. "What the fuck are we missing?"

Kade’s shoulders rise with a deep inhale as he stares at people running up a side street before darting into a yard. Guards are ushering others away, but it's like herding cats and no one listens.

"Our scouts have confirmed the hobgoblin army is coming up from the north,” Kade instructs. “We're setting up the cavalry and ground troops there."

I glance up a side street that leads up to the northern section where all the farms stretch out. Several people are running across the road, when one of the men swings his attention to the soldiers near us. The moment my eyes lock with Warrick, the head chef in the palace, I stiffen. Apprehension coils in my chest at the way he studies the guards, shadows darkening his eyes.

Most of the managers leading the servants in the palace were told to remain on the castle grounds. Though panic makes people do stupid things, there’s something odd about him today. Warrick jerks away and darts out of sight behind houses and trees. I turn to Kade with instructions to go pay Warrick a visit when a guard charges in my direction.

The wide-shouldered man pauses feet from me, his raspy breaths racing. "Your Highness, we found a hobgoblin. Alive."

Adrenaline slams into me. "Show me," I snap, and we're running away from the main street, making our way behind a line of houses. Fences enclose yards and up ahead, a cluster of guards gather on the open field behind the homes.

My throat goes dry. This could give us answers to what the hobgoblins have planned. The guards part on my arrival, and I shove forward to where half a dozen swords are pointed at the hobgoblin.

He kneels on the grounds, hands bound at his back, his mouth parted and armed with yellow teeth and two tusks sitting up and over his upper lip. Thick, messy dark hair covers his head, his nose wide and flaring with each breath. His chin lifts, sandy colored eyes locking with mine, his wiry eyebrows sticking out wildly, and he unleashes a tremendous growl. He spills into a rant in Ghantik, the hobgoblin language, harshly spoken words punching through screams and shouting in the background.

He spits on my boots, his lips twisting into a