24. Farron
24
Farron
L ife is certainly full of idiosyncrasies.
One day you’re High Prince of your realm, living your life as if you have the world at your fingertips. And the next day, you’re a blood-seeking monster ready to tear the face off the first living thing you see.
And one day, you’re the same blood-seeking monster but a human woman walks into the dungeon determined to free you from yourself. And despite trying to tear her face off… She forgives you.
Like I said. Idiosyncrasies.
It’s been almost one full month since Rosalina has joined us as our guest. Well, that’s not quite right. She’s technically a prisoner. She can’t go home by Keldarion’s orders. Often, I wonder to myself if she’s planning an escape attempt. But without an escort through the Briars, she’d be fine prey for the goblins.
As I climb the ladder in the library to fetch one of our oldest relics from the top shelf, I cast a glance down at her sitting at the table. She’s leaning over some loose papers we found on a back shelf, comparing the information to a different text. Her nose is scrunched up, eyes determined, and dark brow furrowed.
I can’t help but wonder if she’s enjoying her stay in Castletree. Every day we meet in the library for research, and every day she brings even more determination and optimism.
After twenty-five years of being surrounded by doom, gloom, nihilism, and total denial, I have to say it’s refreshing.
I tuck the small book into my waistband and push my feet on either side of the ladder, sliding all the way down.
“Jeez, don’t do that. You’ll break an ankle,” she says.
I chuckle and hand her the book. She snatches it and immediately starts pouring over the Table of Contents.
It’s been so long since I entered the human realm, and I spend so little time outside of Castletree, I don’t ever see the few humans who’ve accidentally wandered through the Enchanted Vale and chose to stay. Rosalina’s nothing like how I remember humans.
Her dark hair tumbles over her shoulders, falling in a wavy cascade down her back. A few leaves have nestled into her tresses. Tracking back and forth across the page, her brown eyes sparkle in the late afternoon light. And the curves of her body are perfectly on display in a tight cream-colored chemise with laces down the front and a flowing brown skirt that sits snugly across her hips. The laces of her blouse have come loose, opening the front to reveal a glimpse of the milky-white mounds of her breasts—
Oh, stars. What am I doing? We’re researching. I’m not ogling her like a piece of meat the way Dayton always does.
But though my logical brain agrees with this notion, my body does not. I quickly sit so I can subtly adjust myself under the table. Thank the stars she’s so absorbed in her work.
Perhaps I could ignore these pesky inklings of desire if she were merely beautiful. But she had to go and be smart as well, sharp as the many thorns around Castletree. Delight fills me every time we bounce ideas off of one another, and she seems to pick up and connect with a concept like no one I’ve ever seen before. And I’ve never met anyone who wants to stay in the library for as long as she does. If we didn’t have Kel’s mandatory dinners—and my beast’s arrival every night—I’d suspect we’d stay here until dawn.
Rosalina starts reading out loud, but I can’t concentrate, which is entirely abnormal for me. Research is the one thing I can lose myself in. The one thing that gives me hope.
But every part of my mind is concentrating on two things and two things only: the perfect pair of breasts in front of me.
Why did I sit here? I could have sat anywhere else, but I’m front and center now to the entire display. I try to look elsewhere, but I can’t help it: my eyes flick back to her, leaning over the table, shirt totally agape. Her breasts hang heavy and soft, the nipples barely covered by the chemise. Damn, if she were to adjust slightly, everything would be visible.
I can’t move now. My cock stands at full attention, straining against my pants with urgent need. If I get up, she’ll clearly see me pining for her. And that’s not an option. This is her home now, and the last thing she needs is to assume one of her captors wants to throw her over this table and fuck her on top of the books we’ve been pouring over for the last month.
I scrub my face with my hands. No, no, no. What is wrong with me? I’m not like Dayton, a man-whoring rapscallion. Over the last month, Rosalina and I have become… Dare I say it? Friends?
At least acquaintances in a way she isn’t with the other princes. Keldarion seems to loathe her. They spend our forced dinners exchanging snarky comments before Kel usually loses his temper and storms back to his room. Ezryn, despite my urging to get to know her, refuses to engage beyond the most basic exchanges. I can see it in his shoulders: the way he tenses when she tries to talk to him, or even just when she enters the room. And Dayton… Dayton does as is expected. When he’s not too drunk to focus, he stares at her like she’s the last drop of water in the Vale and he’s dying of thirst.
My face heats, and I have to concentrate to keep my expression neutral.
“—interesting, right?”
I blink, and Rosalina glowers at me. “Farron, are you listening to me at all?”
“Huh?” I straighten, suddenly feeling like I’m a boy again, caught daydreaming in class.
“What I was just reading? It’s interesting, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes. Very interesting. Good find.” I clear my throat. She still hasn’t corrected the loose laces of her bodice.
I flick my gaze from her face back down to the spectacular sight of her breasts. It would be so easy to reach out and cup their fullness, to spin her around and push her down onto the table. We’ve been together nearly every day for the last month. I’ve seen her look at me when she thinks I’m not aware. Her eyes scanning my body from top to bottom, lingering on my chest, my arms.
What would she do if I tried?
She raises a brow and looks down to where my eyes are trained. Notices the loose laces. “Oh god, I’m a mess,” she mumbles and quickly does them up. “Sorry.” Her cheeks heat a brilliant pink.
I stand so quickly, my chair clatters to the floor. I snatch her trembling hands away from the laces and they fall loose. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. It’s… You make me nervous.”
Her eyes widen until the whites show all around. “ I make you nervous? You’re an otherworldly prince who lives in a castle . And you’re smart and nice to me—for some reason—and you’re, like, super hot and oh my god, I’ve said way too much…” She trails off, eyes down at the floor. With a mumble, she finishes, “I usually wear hoodies.”
A beat passes between us and I laugh. She raises a brow at me, then laughs too. “Why are we laughing?”
“I don’t know what a hoodie is,” I admit. “But it sounds ridiculous.”
“You don’t know what a hoodie is?” she cries. “Oh my god. I need to get you one. You’ll never go back to your waist coats and fancy vests and suspenders—” She slaps my chest softly, before resting her fingers over my collarbone.
“Farron,” she whispers and closes her eyes. “If it were up to you, would you set me free?”
Something deep within me snarls in my mind: No. Mine. Mine forever. But I shake my head, wavy strands of hair falling in front of my eyes. “Of course I would, Rosalina.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “What’s it like to know you have a mate out there, someone just for you?”
I let out a deep sigh and lean back in my chair. “I don’t know, honestly. As you’ve learned, mates are quite rare. It’s not something most of us grow up thinking about.”
“So, fae don’t wait around for their mates.” She runs a hand along the tattoo on her right wrist. “Do you get married like humans do?”
Grabbing a book from across the table, I flip it open to a page. An image bordered in flowers depicts a fae marriage. “In a fashion, yes. There are ceremonies to dedicate your life to another. Though they don’t have the same magic as a mate bond.”
“The magic.” Rosalina’s eyes widen. “The magic we’ve read about. Is it real? Hearing your mate in your mind, the sparkly feeling, the overpowering sexual urges—” Her face flushes.
“I don’t know.” My face grows hot as well. “Ezryn’s parents were mated. And I believe Kel’s grandparents. They may know a bit more about it.”
Rosalina rolls her eyes. “Like they’d ever talk to me.”
I continue to flip through the pages. “The lack of a mate bond doesn’t stop some rather wild fae from trying to mimic the magic with their own chosen partner. It can be quite dangerous.” I end on a page with swirling purple and green illustrations.
“Mimic the magic?” Rosalina asks.
I run my finger over the rough paper. “All fae have the magic of bargains, and some fae use them with their lovers to make a love pact. It could be as harmless as remembering to say ‘I love you’ every day or else you’ll sprout a white hair, or as grave as your own death if you ever strayed to the wayward lips of another.”
“Can the magic really do that?”
“Fae magic is powerful,” I explain. “The stronger the love, the stronger the bargain. These fae are desperate to recreate the power they glimpse in mates.”
Rosalina runs her fingers along the picture, then looks up at me. “Well, I hope when we find your mate, Farron, she’s everything you’ve ever dreamt of.”
How can she know I’ve been dreading that moment for years? But there’s such kindness in her words, I can’t help but smile. “Thank you, Rosie.”
She flushes. “Rosie?”
“I mean, Rosalina. Sorry, I—”
“No.” She grabs my hand, and I wonder if she can feel my racing pulse. “It’s cute.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes so wide. She’s the one that’s cute, that’s beautiful. I wonder what her lips taste like, the sound she’d make if I were to run my tongue along her neck…
She shifts closer. “You don’t deserve this life. You’re so good and kind. The Enchantress is truly evil.”
At the memory of the Enchantress, anger and shame and utter guilt roar up inside of me. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. I’m not like the rest of them who deserved it. Not like the one who betrayed his realm, or the one who abandoned it. Not like the one who misused his power.
And yet I am trapped here all the same.
“Farron? I’m sorry. I’ve said too much.” Rosalina turns around and rubs her arm.
“No, it’s—” As I’m about to decide if I should tell her about the night of the curse, a booming clatter arises from outside the library doors leading from the entrance hall.
Boisterous laughter and the breaking of glass sound. And then… a woman’s voice.
“Oh fiddlesticks,” I mumble. It can only be one thing.
I sprint out of the library with Rosalina behind me. I have to find out what’s going on before Keldarion does.
We run down the Autumn passage, leaves and twigs snapping beneath our feet.
“What’s going on?” Rosalina cries. “In case I never mentioned it, I’m not huge on running—”
As we round the corner to the top of the staircase overlooking the entrance hall, I freeze.
Oh, fuck. It’s worse than I thought.
He actually brought someone here.
Dayton leans against the rose gold frame of the mirror, a jug of foul-smelling alcohol in one hand, and the ass of a busty blond fae in the other.
It’s all I can do to intake a snarling breath. The wolf inside me lunges at my chest, clawing at my ribs. He’s desperate to break out. And if I let my rage take over, it will be a blood bath in here.
But even that won’t be as bad as what would happen if Keldarion sees a stranger inside the castle.
We run down the stairs and into the main foyer. Rosalina doubles over, panting. But her eyes aren’t on Dayton or the fae woman. They’re on the mirror. Oh right. I suppose we haven’t explained that. She probably thought it was a decoration.
The brilliant mirror waves with iridescent light. It’s about the size of a door and it lights up the room with fractals of blue and red and green. They flicker across Dayton’s bare chest. In fact, he’s only wearing the traditional garb of the Summer Realm, a short leather girdle that hugs tight to his muscular ass. His long blond hair falls over his shoulders and he’s got that sleepy half-smile he always gets when he’s pissed out of his mind.
The blond fae woman is obviously drunk too, grabbing at his chest and laughing between hiccups.
“Dayton,” I growl. “What are you doing?”
Dayton flicks his gaze at me, and his eyes sparkle with mirth. “Farron, you’ve come to welcome me home. Don’t worry. It’s quite unnecessary.” His words slur and he chucks the bottle to the ground. It rolls toward Rosalina. She slams her foot down on it to stop its movement.
“Dayton, this is highly irresponsible, even for you,” Rosalina says, and her serious tone almost makes me crack a smile. Almost. “You know what Keldarion did to his last visitor.”
“Well, aren’t you just Queen of the Castle now?” Dayton laughs.
The fae woman pitches forward, squishing her considerable chest against Dayton’s bare body. My heart pounds and I dig my nails into my palms to concentrate on the pain. “Dayton, why are these two nattering at us? I thought we were going to your bedroom.” She reaches down and grabs Dayton’s cock through the leather.
My face burns, and I hate the way Dayton smiles as her hand massages him. He’s putting on a fucking show, tilting his head back and squinting his eyes. “You’re right, darling. Look at these two. Like nattering flies.” He grabs her by the shoulders and shoves her against the wall, but his eyes are on me. “Maybe they want to join us.” He runs his tongue across her jaw and down her neck before burying his face in her tits.
Rosalina stiffens beside me, and her face is beat-red. “J-join you?”
Dayton looks up from the fae woman’s breasts. “You interested, blossom? Come over here, and I’ll show you how the fae make love.” He licks his lips, gaze intense.
I can’t say anything. I can’t even move. Rage fills every fiber of my being. How dare Dayton disobey Keldarion’s sacred rule? Kel may be a crotchety, paranoid asshole, but this rule protects us. No one comes into Castletree. No one.
And to parade this fae in front of us, this random woman in her sheer gown that barely covers the top of her thighs… Well, I should have expected that. I’m used to Dayton staring at me when his cock is buried deep in another man or woman. But to ask Rosalina to join…
I want to rip his throat out. I want to scream at him. I want to storm out of here and let him face Keldarion’s wrath.
But I’m rooted to the spot.
Coward.
But… she’s not. Rosalina shakes her head and wrinkles her nose. “Enough. Dayton, you need to grow up. I have no idea how old you are. Probably like four million. But you’re acting like a stupid teenager.” She storms over and grabs the fae woman’s arm. “And you! Do you know how dangerous this is? You don’t even know anything about where this idiot has taken you.”
“He’s the fucking Prince of Summer—” the fae woman begins but Rosalina cuts her off with a tug toward the mirror.
“Yeah, and he’s a jerk for taking you here. It’s dangerous. But he doesn’t care about you.” She levels a glower on Dayton that sends ice down even my spine. “He only cares about himself.”
Dayton looks like he wants to respond, but he wavers on his feet before slumping against the wall.
“We need to get you home. How do I work this thing? Farron?” She turns back to me, but my muscles still feel frozen. “Farron, snap out of it. I need you.”
I need you.
It’s like those three words ignite a fire under me. Rosalina needs me. I surge forward, stumbling over my own feet, before straightening before her. “Y-yes?”
“Work your magic on this enchanted mirror thing,” Rosalina says. “We need to send our new friend back home.”
“Right.” I cough then take the fae woman by the shoulders. She looks like she’s going to punch me… or be sick.
Taking a deep breath, I place a hand upon her forehead and feel for the deep magic within Castletree. Every day, as the curse strengthens, the tree weakens. Even now, I have to strain to bring the slightest bit of magic to my fingertips.
“This is but a dream. When you awaken, you will remember this as a figment of a fitful sleep,” I whisper. The wisps of autumn magic—the decay, the falling leaves, the ending that lies within—seep into her mind, muddling this memory.
She blinks, her eyes foggy.
“Now, think of your bed. Can you picture it? Can you see it?”
“Yes,” she murmurs.
I point her toward the mirror. “Very good. Keep that picture in your mind and walk through. You’ll find yourself exactly where you want to go.”
“Such a strange dream,” she mumbles as she steps into the mirror. Her body ripples with shimmering light. And then she’s gone.
I turn to see Dayton sitting on the floor, his head nodding against his chest.
I know why he does it. The same reason Keldarion won’t leave the castle. The same reason Ez prefers to be the beast instead of the man. The same reason I lose myself in research. We’re all trying to escape.
But damn if it doesn’t break my fucking heart when he does.
“Is he okay?” Rosalina asks, walking over and poking his chest.
He swats her hand. “I’m awake.”
“Sorry, Rosie,” I say. “I know you were telling me something exciting that you found, but I think I’ll have to cut our research session short. I’ve got to get Dayton to his room.”
“Can I help at all?” She looks so genuine, concern painted across her features.
“No, trust me. This isn’t the first time,” I say.
“And it won’t be the last,” Dayton slurs before his head falls to the side.
“Okay. I’m going to keep looking at that book you found,” she says.
I squeeze her hand, wanting one last piece of contact between us before she leaves. “I’ll be in the Summer Wing if you need anything.”
She nods and leaves, her wide hips sashaying up the stairs and out of view.
I blow out a huge breath and tell my cock to get on the same page as my head.
And right now, that means dealing with the two-hundred-and-fifty pounds of drunk-ass muscle before me.
“You’re an idiot,” I snap as I lean down to heave Dayton’s arm around my shoulder.
“You like her,” he says in a sing-song voice.
I haul him to his feet. Stars, he’s heavy. “What?”
“You liiike her,” Dayton sings again. “I saw the way you looked at her. You like her—”
I slam Dayton against the stone wall. “I like you ,” I snarl. “And if you pull that shit again, Keldarion will rip your throat out—”
Dayton snags a handful of my hair and pulls, so I’m looking straight up at him. Damn, for being so drunk, his reflexes are still fast. Breath comes ragged out of my throat. Our chests touch, and his pecs glisten with sweat. “You chased away my fuck, Farron.”
“You don’t need her.” My voice is a raspy growl.
“I don’t know about that,” he says. “My cock is desperate for something tight and warm.”
“You’re too drunk,” I counter.
He grabs my hand and forces it onto his girdle. His bulging hardness is evident even through the thick leather. “Fucking try me, Farron.”