“Make no mistake, I don’t do it for him.” He jutted his chin toward Asterious. “I do it for magickind. For my family,” he said. “And if this half-breed mutt prince is my best hope of seeing them again, then so be it.”
Asterious glared at him, but his voice was hopeful and sure. “I cannot promise to restore everything lost—but I can promise to try.” He turned away, resuming his forward pace toward the edge of the forest with Brenn and Caramyn trailing on either side. “Bring those that you find to Vaerwynd. We can build ally camps in the witchlands.”
Brenn flicked his head in acknowledgement before straying from the path as the clear landscape ahead came into view through the lines of the trees ahead. “My horse awaits further down,” he said. “If I find anyone willing, I’ll do as you’ve asked. And Caramyn,” he looked at her, his words landing softer. “It’s been an honor.”
Caramyn lifted a hand in farewell, dipping her head in a slight bow. A few shuddering breaths and trudging steps later, Brenn had already put a wide stretch of forest between them, their paths, and their destinies, quietly diverging among the trees.
“You trusted him enough to tell him all that?” Caramyn blinked, lining her steps with Asterious’.
“I’m not sure I have much of a choice. He already knows everything else. Besides, I’m sure you’ll burn him to a crisp if he tries to double-cross us.” Asterious laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of him.”
Caramyn wrinkled her nose. “What makes you think I’m worried about whether or not we see him again?”
“You kept his talisman, didn’t you?” Asterious teased as Caramyn shook her head without response.
Their steps quickened as the edge of the Woods greeted them. The last light of ember sunset dwindled through the branches and guided them towards the silhouette of a small camp where Leejia, Starke, Tyrios, Gariel, and Riven awaited them. They met them with tears and embraces and tale of how Wyran managed to slip into the Woods, despite their efforts to stop him.
“It was as if the Shadows wanted him for some unknown purpose, drawing him in while casting us out.” Leejia explained.
“The Shadows have a way of making people think they’re in control.” Caramyn uttered. “Wyran was just a willing pawn in a much bigger game.”
“As we all seem to be at some point or another…” Asterious stared into the stretch of open land before them, the looming Bleak Wilderness waiting to be traversed before the next snowfall. “For now, we return to Vaerwynd Court to regain our strength. We’re going to need it for whatever lies ahead.”
Alofreise nudged his hand, and he gave the stallion an affectionate pat before mounting, Caramyn settling behind him in the saddle. Together, they all set out for home, back to the forbidden witchlands, leaving the Shadow Woods and all that it held behind.
65
For Now and Forever
Caramyn
It had been days since they’d returned. Vaerwynd castle was buzzing with life, as a new hope had sprung within the court as the account of what happened in the Shadow Woods spread, but also a sense of unspoken fear, for now the Shadowborn lived and breathed within their walls.
Frostlight would begin in a few weeks. Asterious assured her even Sinevia wouldn’t disregard Evylere’s largest and oldest celebration shared by magickind and human alike if she wanted to maintain her influence over the people. Felhold and the rest of the kingdom would be busy with the season’s preparations, andit would give her some time to become more familiar with her power.
But Caramyn hadn’t left her room, for fear of losing control of herself once again. Whenever she thought too long or too hard about even the slightest frustration, flames flickered at her fingertips like ash-tipped amethyst. She suppressed thoughts of how fiercely she missed the feeling of Asterious’ body against hers, and how she saw him each night in her dreams, and the embarrassment she felt knowing the prince likely could feel the strength of her desire through their bond.
At sunset, she stood at the window of her room watching snow flurries dust the withered garden below.
Her room.
A knock at the door made her turn.
“Come in,” she said gently.
“You have a gift,” cooed Azell, peeking her head in through the door. “If you want it.”
Caramyn lifted her chin in curiosity as Azell entered and placed a long box across her bed. With a mischievous smile, the maid exited without another word.
Caramyn peeked beneath the lid with slow, careful movements.
There within the box lay a ballgown—sleeveless—glittering like the night sky and accented with fabric rosettes and intricate vines of lilac and wisteria. Quite possibly the most beautiful piece of clothing she’d ever seen. She picked it up by the corseted bodice to examine the delicate beadwork closer. And beneath it, she found a handwritten note.
I know you prefer personal deliveries, but I’m afraid if I’d taken the pleasure of bringing it to you myself, I wouldn’t be able to experience the fullbrunt of your rejection, if you decide to leave me standing in an empty ballroom—as I so rightfully deserve. But if you still want that dance for your birthday, consider it yours.
With a blush that left her cheeks heated, Caramyn smiled. Azell returned soon enough to help her into the fitted strapless bodice, smoothing out the thick satin skirts that bloomed from beneath the corset and flowed to the floor, and doing her hair into an intricate half-up, half down style that left her loose brown waves tumbling down her back.
With a deep breath, Caramyn counted the steps down the stairs, focusing on keeping her emotions in check as she made her way to the grand ballroom. Just before entering, she stood at the half-open door, remembering where she had once lingered in the darkness in awe at the beauty of the empty ballroom on the other side and yearned for a moment like this. Finally, still clinging to her breath, she pushed the door open, and walked through.
