I walk over to him and stare up into his golden eyes…except they’re not all gold anymore. Specks of green float through his irises. “Farron, how did you get this magic?”
A smile—that delirious smile—breaks out over his face. “I stepped into the pool of Green Flame and was offered a great gift.”
“The Baron, my father,” Caspian rasps, “offered him a seed of his power, and Farronfoolishlytook it.”
“Your father?” I whisper.
I glance around. Dayton’s on the ground now, still trying to control his breathing, while Ezryn kneels beside him and rubs his back. But from Keldarion’s rigid expression, I can assume he already knew.
It all falls into place—that magic that never felt like it belonged in the Vale. No wonder Caspian resented it so much.
“Another secret.” Caspian shrugs. “I suppose Mother just couldn’t find a single fae in this universe who could stand her.”
“What did you offer in exchange for this power?” Ezryn asks, turning to Farron.
“It was a gift,” Farron says.
“Gods like Furiondemius don’t give gifts,” Keldarion says. “Don’t be naive, pup.”
Farron lets out a breathy laugh and turns from Kel. “Scorn me if you will, but without my gift of the Green Flame, Daytonales would be dead. Sira would have killed us and started her reign over the Enchanted Vale.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, but my voice holds little conviction.
“I do,” Farron says, deep and commanding. He grabs my shoulders. “I took this power for you. For your mates. For all the Enchanted Vale.”
“We don’t understand this magic, Fare. I’m worried.”
“Magic isn’t inherently evil or good. You know me, Rosalina. You know who I am, down to the stars that made me.”
Tears streak my face as I look at him. “In the starlight way.”
“The Green Flame let me keep the Summer Prince with us,” he continues. “It saved us in our darkest hour, and it will help us claim the Enchanted Vale as ours alone.”
His words should comfort me, but they don’t. Maybe it’s the desperate expression on Caspian’s face, how I’ve never seen the Prince of Thorns so silent, or the heartbreak running through Dayton’s mate bond.
Or maybe it’s because Farron is clearly looking at me, but I can’t unsee the image of him in Mount Rhuvenmark, wreathed in the power of the Green Flame.
“You shouldn’t have kept this from me.”
“I know,” he says and awkwardly, almost stiffly, drops his forehead to mine. “I’m…sorry.”
“It’s not me you have the most to apologize for. It’s him.” I pull away.
Dayton has moved, hand on the enchanted doorknob, already turning the dial to Winter. “I have nothing to say to him,” he mutters, then pulls the door open, walking into Keep Wolfhelm.
I look at Farron. “Until you make it right with him, it’s not right between us. Day might need some space, but you should at least see if he wants to talk privately.”
Farron gives a long sigh and runs his hands through his hair. “Yes, Princess.” He stops in front of Caspian and wipes a tear off Cas’s cheek. They stare at each other for a moment, then Farron heads to the door. He pauses and looks back at us. “The Green Flame will save the Vale. I’ve seen it.”
66
Dayton
Idon’t want to be here anymore.
Though I’m not sure wherehereis.
In Winter, where it’s too damn cold all the time? Or this body, which shouldn’t even be walking, living, breathing?
