“There is already a savior here, child. I will keep you safe the way your loathsome Prince of Summer never could. I have restored Spring to its former glory, and Summer is next.” Kairyn tilts his owl helm at the child. “All you need to do is kneel.”
He says the words as if he knows I’m here. I stagger farther back into the crowd.
Magic crackles through the air. The kind of magic only a High Ruler can wield. It’s the Blessing of Spring. Kairyn only has access to such power because he manipulated Ezryn into passing the Blessing to him.
Dark vines writhe from beneath his hand, breaking into the wall, tearing apart the mural. Broken pieces of my family turn to dust upon the street.
One by one, the crowd drops to their knees, heads bent in submission. I should kneel, I should submit. But I can’t.
I can’t fight either, not yet. So, I slink into the shadows.
But Kairyn isn’t the only High Prince not hindered by a curse.
Farron.
Farron will find a way to save us. He always does.
CHAPTER 2
Farron
My paws pound against the wet earth, each step sending me bounding through the briars. How long have I been running? Days? Weeks? I don’t remember. But I know I haven’t stopped. Freed from the Enchantress’s curse, the wolf barely needs to sleep. I’ve survived with only the adrenaline rushing through my body and the odd goblin that dares to show its face to the Autumn wolf.
I’ve never spent this long out in the Briar, but without my token to magically transport me to Castletree, traveling by cover of bush and darkness is safest. I’d rather face the goblins here than Kairyn’s soldiers, who now block the pass from Summer to Autumn.
Briars tear at my fur, but I ignore them and sunlight sneaks through gaps in the huge, twisted thorns all around me. Through the breaks, I spot the glimmer of a rolling hill dotted with heather.I’m almost home.
But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to call a place home if she’s not there.
It’s been three months since I last set eyes on my mate. My last image of her—screaming and crying in pain as Ezryn was marched through the streets of Florendel—is etched into my mind. After that, I’d lost my wits to one of Kairyn’s corrupted plants. Dayton had found me. Saved me, as he’s always done. But he’d had the help of …
My fangs gnash together, and a growl rumbles through my chest unconsciously. I don’t want to think about Wrenley right now. Every fraction of energy I have has to be focused on the power of my legs, the strength of my paws. The will of my heart.
I burst out of the Briar, suddenly bathed in orange light. The smell of an apple grove wafts in the breeze, and I inhale deeply. For the first time in days, I pause and take in the Autumn realmlands. With the purple briars at my back and my realm before me, I allow myself a sense of hope.
Rosalina is alive. I know this in my heart. Even though I can’t feel our bond the way I should, it hasn’t slackened, only numbed. Wherever she is, the Nightingale must be keeping her magic at bay. But we’ll find her. I know we will.
I take off running again. The wolf’s instincts are sharp. Even so deep in the wilds, I know exactly the direction of my home city.
The last few months have been nothing short of torture. Dayton and I traveled to Summer hoping to find Rosalina and warn the steward, Dayton’s younger sister, Delphia, of the oncoming invasion. We were too late. By the time we arrived in Hadria, Delphia had fled to the sea and Kairyn sat upon her throne. My own sister, Eleanor, is a ward of Summer. A pain shoots up my chest. I can only hope she’s still with Delphia, safely in hiding.
Dayton, Wrenley, and I found a small apartment in the slums to shelter in while we tried to find any information. Where are the Princesses of Summer and Autumn? What is Kairyn’s next move?
Where is Rosalina?
I’ll find you, I say through my numb bond.I won’t ever stop. Your love is my guiding light through the darkness. No force in the Vale can keep us apart.
She can’t hear me, but I hope my love is strong enough to make it to her somehow. There can be no magic in all the world stronger than that of a mate bond.
I stumble, paws sliding against the slick grass as I run downhill.
I’m not the only one with a mate bond.
The image flashes through my mind: Wrenley, holding the will-o’-wisp to her chest. The beam of light shooting straight at Dayton.
Logically, I knew this was bound to happen. I always knew I couldn’t keep him. That he didn’t belong to me.
So why does it feel like my heart will rip out of my chest every time I think of the acolyte’s hand on his? Of how she always flutters right in his shadow, watching him with that focused gaze of hers?
