“Yes, but you can negate the poison with a little lemon juice and…” He trails off, then knits a hand through his hair. “I’ve been talking about mushrooms for a long time, haven’t I?”
“Yes, but now I’m dying for that portabella stew you mentioned.” I throw an arm over his shoulder and bring my lips to his ear. “I love when you talk shroomy to me.”
He laughs, a sound I haven’t heard enough of lately. So what if Farron’s stories have a tendency to go on from time to time? I don’t care. As long as I’m the one he’s talking to.
Farron’s laugh dies as we approach the ruins, and he sighs. “Even Nymphia couldn’t stop the frost.”
Crumbling ruins spread across the field. Moss and vines crawl over long-fallen statues and pillars. This was once a place of worship, but now only a circular broken staircase leads to a fallen tower.
Worse than the passage of time is the frost. It covers everything with a pale-blue gleam.
“Poor Nym.” I follow Farron to inspect the worst of the frost. “I suppose you know all about her too?”
“I do,” he says. His hand dangles loose at his side, and I almost grab it. “She was the first High Ruler of Autumn and said to be a great friend of Queen Aurelia.”
“Ahh, yes,” I say. “Our lost Queen. Would be nice to have her help right about now.”
“You don’t think she’s ever coming back, do you?”
“I don’t know, Fare.” I run a hand through my hair. “Five hundred years is a long time to be gone. What do you think?”
“I think she’s out there,” he says softly. “Only because Castletree is still standing. It was her magic that created it. I think… I think we’d feel it if she were truly gone.”
We lap the ruins twice, investigating the ice, but there seems to be no source. This trail only leads to the nearby creek. Frustration lines Farron’s face.
Desperately, I search the ruins again, my gaze landing on the tower. Despite the collapsed walls, I’m sure we can still make it to the top.
“Come on.” I grab his arm. “We can see for forever up there. Might find a clue.”
We ascend the spiraling staircase. Despite its decay, the tower still holds a haunting beauty. The sun shines in through the broken windows, casting the stone in a golden light. As we climb higher, Farron’s hand slips into mine, our fingers intertwining. I wonder how this tower would have looked in its prime, with its walls gleaming and halls filled with the laughter of fae nobles. Did the Queen herself visit here?
As we reach the top of the tower, we step out onto the remains of a circular room. The roof has long since rotted away, giving us an unobstructed view of the Autumn Realm.
It is magnificent. But nothing is so enchanting as the man beside me.
He leans on the collapsed wall, his auburn strands dancing in the wind. He really belongs here.
If only he could see it. “Fare.”
He looks up at me, blinking. I cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss.
A soft, surprised sound comes from the back of his throat. For a moment, the ruins fade away, and all that exists is the warmth and softness of Farron’s lips against mine.
A smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “It’s been a while since you kissed me.”
“Too long. But for the record, my mouth is available for you anytime. My body, too.”
He sighs deeply, and my cock hardens at the sound. Gently, I kiss along his jaw, breathing in the scent of his skin. My hands drift through his soft hair and down his neck, but something cuts my finger.
Farron lets out a sigh and adjusts his shirt over the thorn collar. “Sorry.”
“I fucking hate that thing,” I growl.
“And you think I like it? But I’m grateful for Caspian in a way. There’s a peace knowing if I turn, thisthingwill take over, day or night. I don’t want that beast to hurt anyone anymore. I don’t want to hurtyouanymore.”
There are scars all over my body from Farron’s beast, like the three jagged lines down my back from our first year being cursed. Ez can heal the injuries, but the scars remain. A mark inflicted by a cursed beast is a hard thing to get rid of, even with Spring’s Blessing. Most recently added to the collection is the one down my chest and the other across my eye. But the biggest scar he left was not from the beast, but the man. One right into my heart.
I think he broke it. Broke it so badly I don’t ever want to find my mate, even if it means never breaking my fucking curse. A sick, twisted part of me would rather stay a beast forever than give him up.
