Forged by Malice (Beasts of the Briar, #3)

Swords firm in my hand, we sprint out of the castle, immediately hit with a sharp torrent of rain. I blink through the water, finding a cluster of goblins streaking green flames just about to cross the bridge.

“If they make it to the Briar, we’ll lose them for good!” I yell. Our feet splash in the puddles. Shit, we’ll never catch them.

“Keep running!” Rosalina yells. But she stops and draws her strange thorned bow.

Her gift from the Prince of Thorns.

But I obey, hitting the edge of the bridge as the goblins reach the other side. And there, glinting in one of their hands, is something wrapped in old cloth. If I fucking lose Kel’s sword while he’s gone, he’s going to kill me. I pick up my pace.

A thorn arrow sails through the air, but lands wide of the goblins. I glance over my shoulder. “You missed.”

“No, I didn’t,” Rosalina says. Then she swipes her hand overhead. The thorn arrow expands, exploding into a patchwork of briars, blocking off the exit of the bridge.

The goblins careen to a stop, chittering in agitation, trapped.

Trapped with me.

Perfect.

I draw my blades and take the moment of surprise to dispatch two of them. The others panic, slipping on the slick stone. They may be covered in green flame, but they’re not so fucking scary when I’m armed. Going for the head, the last four are goners before Rosalina even catches up with me.

She slows to a stop, wind and rain tousling her hair and soaking her clothes, so they cling to her full curves. Her eyes widen, shifting back to dark brown. She stares at the piles of ash and black goblin blood at my feet.

“We make a pretty good team,” I say.

“That we do.” She smiles, then retrieves the hastily wrapped package from a pile of ash. Carefully, she unfolds the old cloth, revealing the sheath with an icy hilt sticking out.

“Careful,” I say. “Don’t touch that without the sheath.”

“Wouldn’t want to get fingerprints on this prized possession,” she says sarcastically. “Kel might stick me in the dungeon again.”

A lot worse would happen to her than that if she tried to wield the Sword of the Protector. But my mind is still stuck on why the goblins would attempt to steal it. “They really were after Kel’s sword. I wonder what use they could have for it.”

“One of them mentioned a gift for Sister, whatever that means.” She carefully sets the sword down, then walks over to me, running a delicate hand over my bare chest until she reaches my back. “They hurt you.”

“Just a scratch.”

Her expression turns steely. “Do you remember when you told me if anyone touched me, you’d kill them and fuck me in their blood?”

I run my hand through her rain-soaked hair. “What are you implying, Blossom?”

She lets her hand rest on my chest. “They hurt you. Now they’re dead. So—”

I step away from her. “We should get the sword out of the rain.”

Her eyes flash. “Dayton, when I saw you in danger—when I felt you were in danger—every part of me exploded. I don’t think that type of magic just happens. The only other time was when I needed to protect you all. Protect Farron and Kel, my—”

“Don’t go there, Rosie.”

“Why not?” She grips my arm. “Can’t you feel this?”

A growl sounds in my chest, and I yank my arm away. “Do you want to know what I feel, Rosalina O’Connell? What I really feel?”

“And what is that, Prince of the Summer Realm?” Her mouth has shifted into a snarl. I’ve made her mad.

Good. I’d rather her mad than whatever the hell she was trying before. “Relief.”

“Relief?”

“Yes. When I found out you and Farron were mates, all I felt was relief. Relief neither of you belonged to me.”

Her face crumbles. “Day, that night we all spent together …”

“Of course, I want you and Fare, but I also know how fucking awful that would be for both of you.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not true.”

“Everyone I’ve ever loved has met a terrible fate, Rosie. Every single person.” My voice breaks. “I thought for sure I’d take Fare down with me because I can’t give him up. But you saved him from me.”

“Stop it.” Rosalina grips my arm over the bargain cuff Farron and I share. “There’s nothing terrible about the love you and Farron have for each other. And there’s nothing terrible about what’s between us. I haven’t been brave enough to say it yet, but Dayton, I …”

My entire chest feels like it’s caving in, and I haven’t cried in fucking years. It might be salty tears running down my cheeks, or maybe it’s just rain. “Rosie, stop. I can’t bear it, please.”

But she doesn’t stop. Of course she doesn’t.

“Daytonales, you are my mate.” She snatches my jaw. “Let me fuck you in the blood of the enemies we slayed and prove it.”

I can’t keep her. I can’t own her. But I could give myself this moment. One time with the most perfect woman to ever live. My resolve is weakening, every part of me aching for her. One night with me won’t kill her. She’ll have Fare. She’ll even have Kel.

My death has always been hovering just beyond the horizon. And here it fucking is. Maybe not the death of my body. That’ll carry on. But my soul, my heart—they’re not going to survive losing her.

But I’ve never been one to make the best decisions.

Rosalina stares up at me, eyes flashing like the raging storm.

“Fuck it,” I growl and take her in my arms.





11





Rosalina





Dayton pulls me against him with such force, I’m completely thrown off my feet and into his arms. What was it he had said to me once? That he wanted to crash beneath my waves. Well, now every part of us is colliding.

Rain slides down our faces as we kiss. His tongue parts my lips. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he holds me tight, one hand gliding up my back, the other firmly cupping my ass.

“Fuck, Blossom.” He peppers my jaw with sweet kisses. “You have absolutely no right to be this beautiful, this fierce, and this damn good a kisser.”

A feeling of absolute freedom washes over me, and I burst out laughing. I told Dayton I think he’s my mate.

He sits me on the edge of the bridge’s railing, his hips pressed between my legs. My body thrills at the feeling of his hardness. Blinking through the sheets of rain, I make out his signature cocky grin, golden hair a wet tangle.

“I once tried to escape over this bridge,” I say.

“You’re not going anywhere now,” Dayton growls. He grips my leather breastplate and tears it off in one swift movement.

“I liked that—”

“I’ll get you another one.” Darkness passes over his eyes as he takes in my body, clearly visible beneath the soaking wet fabric. A purely male groan sounds in his throat as he lowers his mouth to my neck and drags his teeth to my collarbone. “I intend to rip this thing to bits.”

“Do it.”

Tearing sounds through the air as my dress becomes little more than tatters, and the Prince of Summer desperately claws for my skin. Drops of water fall off his eyelashes as he blinks back the rain to take me in.

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