Tears and blood stream down my face. No, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I was meant to find Farron. My Farron. Not this beast that has stolen his body and soul.
I clasp my knees and curl up. What else is left? The beast has taken Farron, and it will take me too. I’ll never find him, never see that sweet smile again or hear his laugh or spend another moment in his quiet company.
He’ll be lost forever in the dark, trapped inside the rage and desolation of the beast. He’ll never realize what he’s capable of. How there is strength in stillness. How peace is his power.
My body shakes, but it’s not from fear. It’s from anger. My hands grip the wet ground, and I stare up into the brambles, letting the rain that filters through splatter my face.
“Who are you to judge him?” I whisper into the void, speaking to the Enchantress wherever she may be. “How can you say his heart deserves this curse when you have not seen how he struggles each day to be worthy of his realm? When you have not heard the kindness in his voice when he speaks to his family, both his blood and his chosen? When you have not felt what it is to be loved by him?”
Now, my voice is not a whisper. I don’t care if the wolf hears. Let him. Let the whole damn realm hear me. I push to my hands and knees, eyes wide and focused.
That aching thing inside my chest reverberates like sparks cracking from a hearth. Farron. He’s here somewhere, and he’s alone and lost and scared.
I will show him that the fire burns within us. I will show myself.
I creep out from the brambles and stand up among the rain-drenched woods. The wolf digs at the end of the thicket but straightens as it sees me. It bares its maw in a vicious snarl.
That blue light from earlier flashes in my vision again. Moving with graceful fluidity, a shimmering will-o’-wisp dances through the air between us.
I realize why it’s here.
“I know you’re there, Farron,” I say. “I’ve come to find you. I will always find you. And I’m not frightened. You don’t have to be either.”
The wolf growls and snaps at the will-o’-wisp that flutters around its snout.
“You and I are alike, Fare. The world has always been too big for us, hasn’t it? Too loud. Too bright. But when we’re together, I can face the whole damned realm and everyone in it. Because you are my strength. You are my courage. I feel it here, within my chest.” I clutch at my heart, reveling in its steady beat. “My fire is within. I’ve always been afraid to see what happens when it burns. But I will light the whole world up for you.” I take a step toward him, chin held high. “I will light up for you.”
The beast lowers its head to the ground, stalking forward. Something flashes in its golden eyes. Eyes I know so well. Eyes that I love.
Blue light surrounds me. More will-o’-wisps. They paint my body with shimmering light. A single teardrop whispers down my face, but I’ve never felt stronger. “The fires of your heart cannot burn me, Farron. I have felt their warmth, and I would have them engulf me.”
The wolf lunges, and so do I. I wrap my arms around its massive neck, letting it tackle me to the ground. My face burrows into its fur. I barely notice the putrid scent or the sticky feel of rotten leaves on my fingertips. All I care about is that he’s in my arms.
“I love you, Farron,” I whisper. “I love you.”
At first, there is only the wolf’s guttural snarl, its hot breath on my skin, the pounding rain.
And then there is a spark.
It shudders through me, shifting and twisting, that invisible tether that’s been guiding me all morning. The wolf pulls back to stare at me, gaze wild but in a different way than before. More will-o’-wisps descend, now covering the wolf, too. A glow burns within my skin, calling to a kindred flame.
To the wolf’s flame.
Farron’s flame.
His body shimmers and shivers, the fur becoming flesh, claws to tender hands. All the while, the eyes remain the same. Magic ignites around us, and I can hear our hearts like a chorus: not separate, but a single entity, beating stronger than I’ve ever heard.
Farron’s fae body collapses against mine, still covered by the will-o’-wisps. Through their wavering blue flames, I see something that makes my heart take flight.
His body is healed, the wounds of the wolf faded away. And his mate bond… It’s not tangled anymore. It’s bright and beaming and beautiful. A glowing star.
I reach for him, and the will-o’-wisps disperse, their movements playful as they dance away into the forest. I clutch Farron’s face in my hands, staring at him with eyes that seem to see for the very first time.
Rain slicks his hair to his forehead, runs over his lips.
“You found me,” he finally says.
“No, Farron,” I say, “you found me.”
Farron, High Prince of Autumn and my mate, kisses me. A kiss born from the ashes.
68
Farron
There is nothing but the taste of her lips, her sweet breath whispering over my face, the tangle of her wet hair in my hands. Everything that I once was has floated away like cinders in the wind, and now there are only the parts of me held together by her.
She and I.
Woven together for eternity.
We kneel in front of each other, mindless of the mud and rain. I brush the damp strands of hair off her forehead. I have gazed upon the most precious art in the history of the Enchanted Vale, read poetry that would make the ancient gods weep, and studied maps of every wonder in the fae and human worlds.
But nothing compares to Rosalina’s beauty. It’s as if I can see her heart—her kindness, her joy, her humor, her generosity—wavering around like spirals of color. She’s glowing.
Mate.
My mate.
Born from the same star.
I know it, deep within every piece of me, that she is why I’m still here. Why the Enchantress did not allow me to cower away forever.
The Enchantress gave me a second chance. So I could love Rosalina.
So I could be loved by her.
Tears mix with rain, and I blink rapidly so I don’t lose one second of staring at her. A million thoughts compete in my mind: How did I get so lucky to find my fated mate, and that it is Rosalina? My best friend? And how had we found each other when I was caged within the darkness of the beast? I’d heard her calling for me, and for the first time, there was something beyond the shadows.
Something worth fighting for.
Other thoughts threaten to crowd my consciousness: flashes of tooth and blood and ice.
But Rosalina cups my face and smiles, and it’s as if daybreak spreads over my mind.
Only one thought is left.
Mate.
My mate.
I must claim her.
There is too much space between us; my lip curls back in an act too familiar to the wolf inside me. A visceral need that goes far beyond hunger or thirst. Rosalina undoubtedly senses the change in me as her pupils dilate, and her chest heaves with breath. As the rich scent of her arousal floods my senses, my control slips away.
Not in the usual way where I lose to the wolf.
This time, I’m losing to her. And she can have me.
My hands rake down her neck, her arms. She hurries to unbutton her blouse, and I pull it off and toss it to the side. Frantically, she reaches behind her back and unhooks her brassière.
My breath catches in my throat. Rain drips down the tip of her nose, over her collarbone, over the peaks of her breasts. Joy radiates from her beaming face.
I rise up on my knees and stare down at her. I wind her braid round and round my hand, then pull it gently so she’s looking up at me.
“You are my mate,” I say. “Submit to me. Let me claim you as mine. And in return, I will show you our love has always been inevitable.”