I leap up, grabbing his collar and slamming him against the wall. “How are you here?”
“Oh, just thought I’d take a quick jaunt to the most miserable and cold place in all the Vale.”
I snarl, drawing him closer. He must have traveled here from the thorns in the chasm. “I should rip you apart for what you did to Autumn. What you did to Farron.”
Caspian slinks out of my grip. “Unfortunately, there isn’t time for your empty threats today.” He tosses me my warm jerkin and boots.
Keeping my eyes locked on his, I lace the shirt and tug on the supple leather shoes.
A sharp pain cuts through my bond.
Rosalina.
“Damn, she’s fast,” he murmurs. “You’re going to need this.”
From the folds of his cloak, Caspian reveals the Sword of the Protector. How did he get that? I snatch the sheathed blade. But Caspian leaves his hand outstretched. “And you’re going to need me.”
“Rosalina is in trouble,” I growl.
Thorns and shadows curl around his feet. Rosalina’s terror grows through our mate bond. There’s no time to question Caspian’s game, to guess at his motives. There is no other choice. I take the Prince of Thorns’ hand.
His smile is maddening. The familiar sensation of thorns whips me under the earth. I shut my eyes as my body ripples with power, ice crackling out in every direction.
We burst through the surface like breaking through water, an explosion of shadows and ice. Dreadknights, goblins, and Ezryn. My brother is lying on the ground, clutching his helm and screaming. But my focus narrows on my mate, pinned by another woman.
Rage like a winter storm, born from the depths of my magic, courses through my veins. I swing the Sword of the Protector, and a beam of ice explodes from it. It strikes the woman in the chest and sends her flying into her knights.
In a blur of shadow, Caspian brandishes a long purple sword made of briars and dispatches a goblin charging at me.
“Are you with me?” I ask.
A strand of dark hair falls across his face. “Don’t see who else is going to watch your back when you go into a single-minded murder streak.”
Dreadknights and goblins from the Below face us. Yet, he fights at my side. There’s no time to question, not if I want a chance of rescuing Ezryn and Rosalina.
“Together,” I say.
His eyes flash like stars. “Together.”
54
Rosalina
The Nightingale sails off me in a blast of ice, and I heave in great gulps of air, grabbing at my raw throat. My muscles ache. Through the haze of goblins, I see him. Keldarion. But even if I hadn’t seen him, I’d know he was here. My mate bond blooms bright in my chest.
But strangest of all, he’s not alone.
He’s with the Prince of Thorns.
They stand back-to-back in the middle of the grove as a host of Dreadknights and goblins charge. I can’t see the Nightingale through the throng. I wonder if Kel’s blast killed her.
With gritted teeth, I force myself to get up. I need to get to Kel, and at the moment, he and Cas are the legion’s entire focus. The two of them move with knife-edge precision. Though surrounded, not a single goblin makes it past their flanks. Magic—ice and thorns—flows perfectly with the strikes of their blades. It almost has the fluidity of a dance. A dance, I realize, they must have done many times before.
This isn’t the first time they’ve fought on the same side. It’s evident in the duality of their blows, the thorns covered in a dreadful frost as they penetrate the enemy, their feet moving in unison with each other.
A blur moves to the left, and I dodge as a goblin strikes out. Guess they’re tired of ignoring me. I shoot a briar from my bracelets, and it wraps around the creature’s torso, pinning it to the ground. Then I take off into the sea of bodies, letting my mate bond tug me to Kel.
He glitters white as snow through the chaos, swirling with Caspian’s purple and black shadows.
At least, I’m pretty sure it’s only leading me to Kel.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A Dreadknight steps in my path, his iridescent armor glimmering in the moonlight.
I yelp and throw myself to the ground to avoid his grasp. He kicks me in the gut, sending me rolling into a goblin. A goblin who doesn’t think twice before using its blade to strike me across the arm, leaving a line of sticky red blood. If I don’t get up, I’m going to die.
“Rosalina!” Keldarion roars, fighting toward me, Caspian at his back.
“Kel!” I scream. Yearning fights through the terror.
The goblin moves to strike again, and I throw up a thick briar to block its attack.
Rosalina, hold on! Farron yells in my mind.
At the thought of my mate, my body burns. I stand and white flames explode from my hands. They sear the Dreadknight in front of me. He screams, falling back.
And for a single moment, I see a path to Kel. Once I’m with him, we can help Ezryn break free of his nightmares. Breathing rabid with fear, I run, darting around the confused Dreadknights and goblins. They say Caspian’s name, voices tinged with confusion and … anger.
He’s betrayed them, I realize.
A goblin grabs at me from behind, ripping my dress, but I tug it free. Almost at Kel. Another goblin leaps in my path, chittering, blade outstretched. I don’t have time to stop.
A large bramble grows beneath my feet, propelling me up, up, up in the air, just how I saw the Nightingale use hers. The thorn hurls me forward. I’m weightless.
Then I fall into Keldarion. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close.
As if there was nothing else in the world, no goblins or knights, his lips crash over mine. It’s every longing moment of our separation being released at last. Something no dream could replicate.
My body blooms and lights at his touch, his soft mouth pressing against mine. And I pull away long enough to breathe his name.
“Oh stars.” Caspian rolls his eyes. “Do you two really need to do that now? Right now?”
Kel’s kiss deepens, hands tangling in my hair, and I don’t believe all the forces of the Above and Below could pull us apart now.
“Always surrounded by idiots.” Caspian sighs, but as he does, a great barrier of thorns grows in a tangle around us, delivering a tiny moment of respite.
The chilling touch of Kel’s body passes over me as I taste the snow and ice on his lips. Right now, I am safe. He pulls away and clutches my face. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s Ezryn. Those purple flowers spewed some pollen that trapped us in a nightmare,” I explain. “I threw myself in the water and it seemed to help wash everything off.”
“I’ll get him,” Keldarion says.
“Hope you turtle doves are ready,” Caspian calls, voice straining as he attempts to keep up the briar barrier. “Because the goblins really want to say hello.”
“Let them come.” Keldarion shoves me between himself and Caspian, then unsheathes the Sword of the Protector. When did he get that? It was under my bed here in the Spring Realm.