Rosalina throws her legs over the side of the bed. “No, he’s in pain.”
“You can’t possibly know that. He’s probably watching us, laughing at how he’s deceived us all again.”
“No, Kel, I know it?—”
“He’s a liar. I willneverlet that future come to pass. I was as good as his thrall once. The same fate will not befall my mate. Whatever destiny ensues for the Prince of Thorns is his own doing.”
“You speak of Caspian as if he is a monster, but the only beast Isee isyou.” Briars crack through my floor, and a flash of gold shines in her eyes.
“You cannot leave Winter. I forbid it.”
“You forbid it?” Rosalina snarls and storms for the door. “If you want to keep me here, you’ll have to lock me in the dungeon. Which, if I recall, youloveto do.”
“Where are you going?”
She pauses, her hand hovering over the doorknob. “I’m not so foolish as to think I can enter the Below on my own. Ezryn, Dayton, and Farron are close. I’ll wait for them. But then I will go to the Below and rescue Caspian.”
Ice spreads below my feet, shattering across the room. “If they assist you, they will be disobeying the Sworn Protector of the Realms.”
Rosalina gives me a vicious glare. “Have fun prowling the grounds as a wolf tonight. Pick out a good cell for me.”
With that, my mate, Princess of the Enchanted Vale, slams the door.
5
Rosalina
Even the icy chill of the Winter Realm can’t chase the heatfrom my face. It’s been a few hours since I left Kel’s room, but I’m still seething. Storming out of the main building, I cross through the courtyard at the back of Keep Wolfhelm.
Kel makes me want toscream. What is it about him that infuriates me to no end? Let’s see. He’s stubborn. Pigheaded. Callous. Possessive. How could I even begin to explain Caspian is my mate when Kel is so convinced Cas is evil incarnate? How can he not see what I see?
He’s hurting, I think.He’s scared to love Cas again. Scared to loveanyoneagain.Quickly, I push the thought away. I’m tired of being empathetic, of taking on everyone else’s problems. Let Kel sulk. Mate or not, he doesn’t control me.
And once the other princes arrive, I know I’ll have their support.
That thought, at least, sends a glimmer of warmth through my body. My heart swells.They’re close. I can feel my bonds, strong and radiant, right beside my heart. Even Dayton’s.
I don’t know what miracle brought him back to me, but whatever it is, I’ll forever be grateful.
I picture Dayton, Ez, and Farron arriving—reuniting with them all. The five of us, back together again. It’s been so long. I can imagine Dayton’s brilliant smile, the dark pools of Ezryn’s eyes, and the shimmer of copper in Farron’s auburn hair. Kel crossing his arms and looking at me, up and down, a satisfied rumble in his chest?—
“Ugh!” I kick a snowdrift. I can still be mad at him, even if I crave the feel of his body.
One of Wolfhelm’s staff members found me pacing the halls earlier, muttering curses about Kel under my breath, and offered me a room in the guests’ quarters. It was stunning, complete with a fire already stoked, huge windows that look out over the walls to the horizon beyond, woven tapestries adorning the stone walls, and a plush four-poster bed. It will do until Kel decides to throw me in a cell.
I sigh. Of course, I know Kel won’tactuallydo that. He was probably the one who sent the lady-in-waiting to find me and offer me a room. And most likely the one who made sure the wardrobe was stocked with dozens of beautiful dresses. I pull the white fur cloak tighter around me and swish the skirts of my gossamer gown. Marigold and Astrid would love this.
My chest tightens. I can’t wait to go back to Castletree and see my friends. Seehomeagain.
But there’s someone I want to visit first.
I pass by glorious sculptures carved of ice: prancing deer, whales leaping out of foaming water, and dancing fae. Just as my lady-in-waiting had said, a small building sits at the very back of the courtyard. It’s square and made of stone, like most of the buildings here in Frostfang, though there are no windows.
I rap my knuckles on the wooden door, but there’s no answer. Cracking it open, I step inside. It’s warm, even withouta fireplace. I feel heat radiating off the copper pipes that run along the walls and ceiling. Metal and herbs scent the air; it’s a snow-dusted, sharp smell like the frozen pines outside. Racks of delicate glass jars line one side of the room, filled with curious powders, fragments of Winter’s flora, and roots suspended in briny liquid.
I move deeper inside, my footsteps echoing on the stone floor. Wooden tables are cluttered with scrolls and mortars and pestles. There’s a sense of complete chaos, but of course there is.
This was once Perth Quellos’s laboratory after all.
