I smile as Dayton continues on with another story of chasing a monkey through the city when it stole Farron’s glasses. I know I should look away, but I can’t. Can’t help but notice the hard lines of his muscles as he stretches and washes the sand from his hair. How his stomach ripples, the tempting line of hair that dips below his waistband. How I’m envious of the droplets of water that caress his body.
“Time for this to come off,” he says suddenly. Then Dayton lunges at me, tackling me beneath the water.
We plunge into the cold depths. Here, where no one can see us, his hands are all over me, rubbing away the lotusweed goo. I open my eyes underwater and see him looking at me intently, taking in my barely covered body. His hair flows in golden waves around him.
Dayton smiles when our eyes meet. He leans in close.
Does it make me a horrible person if one of these times I don’t push him away?
But it’s not a kiss. He brushes away the rest of the goo from my face, then drags me to the surface.
“Thank you,” I say.
His gaze is already on the sky. “Think we lingered too long. Looks like I’ll be making my way back as a wolf.”
“I like your wolf,” I say.
Something flashes in Dayton’s gaze, an emotion I can’t quite place. He’s unusually quiet as we step on shore. I take Justus’s clean clothes and go behind some trees to change. The tunic is long enough to be a dress, and I secure it around my waist with a rope belt before gathering the rest of our clothes in a bag.
When I walk out from behind the trees, the wolf is sitting as patiently as a golden retriever.
My nose crinkles as I look at him. His fur has always been covered in seaweed and shells, but it looks worse than ever. Barnacles are crusted along the sides of his face and sickly pale coral is tangled among his golden fur.His curse is intensifying …
A deep pain cuts through me. We won’t be on this island forever. Soon, we’ll return to Hadria, and Dayton will need to complete his mate bond. That’s the only way to break his curse.
I can’t help him with that.
But there are still some things I can do.
“You look like you’ve been rolling in the surf.” I run my fingersthrough his fur, pulling out the seaweed and shells. He stays quiet as I do, but every so often, he knocks me with his massive snout or nearly trips me with his tail. Finally, I’ve freed all of the debris and tossed it to the jungle floor.
“Rosie,” he says, “do you think it was fate that brought us to this island?”
I’ve finished my job, but I can’t remove my hands from the wolf’s soft fur. I turn to look into his seafoam eyes. “You’re part of this realm, Day. Not just one of the people, but part of the land, as well. Perhaps the tides knew this was where you needed to be.”
He gives a long sigh, then trots back in the direction of Justus’s cabin. “So, it is fate.”
I hike my bag over my shoulder and struggle after him through the thick foliage. “Why do you sound so upset about that?”
Dayton shakes his head, golden fur blowing in the warm night wind. “The thing is, I’ve been trying to convince myself this whole fate thing is a hoax. Because I haven’t liked a single twist fate’s woven for me.”
I stay rooted to the spot as he breaks through a thick line of trees. Dayton’s words slowly make their way through my mind. Fate. Fated mates.Is he talking about Wrenley?
CHAPTER 52
Caspian
Waking up with the Autumn Prince in my bedroom wasn’t something I ever imagined happening. Farron is curled on the floor beside my bed in a bundle of blankets. He didn’t want to share with me.
Misty light shines in from the floor-to-ceiling balcony, illuminating my room. My bedroom is one of the few places in the Below I can stand. A beautiful vanity sits against one wall, next to a large wardrobe overflowing with garments of deep purples, rich maroons, and black. I cross to it and throw on a sheer robe, knotting it at my waist.
The crystal-lit fireplace crackles with sparks of bright pink, blue, and yellow.
Opening my door, I find breakfast already delivered. Carrying the silver tray, I cross to my bed and remove the lid to uncover a platter of freshly baked pastries and a bowl of pomegranate seeds. A pot of hot coffee steams beside it with small cups of cream and sugar.
“What’s that delicious smell?” Farron mumbles sleepily. He sits up, yawning and stretching. His shirt rides up to reveal his stomach.
“Sorry.” I take a bite out of one of the pastries. “Only enough for one. I don’t usually have overnight guests.”
