25. Rosalina
25
Rosalina
I ’m the first one in the dining hall when Astrid brings me down after my afternoon walk around the grounds. I’d felt strange after Farron left with Dayton. Something about the whole situation annoyed me. I couldn’t stop picturing the fae girl sucking on Dayton’s neck like a vampire.
But a few laps around the grounds and tearing leaves into tiny pieces made me feel slightly better. It wasn’t like I was jealous. How could I be jealous when I was literally trying to find the princes’ mates? But I knew that Dayton’s mate wasn’t that blond fae.
Thank goodness Farron got rid of her. I’d felt better the moment he’d shoved her through the mirror. It always seemed odd placement for décor, but now I understand what it actually is. An enchanted transportation mirror… The fae woman only had to picture where she wanted to go, and it had carried her there. Unfortunately, it had needed Farron’s magic to work, otherwise I could use it to go back home.
The staff spread dinner across the table as I take my seat. Today there’s baked squash topped with nuts, a side of roasted vegetables, and more of that fluffy bread.
Where is everyone?
I pull out the book I’d taken from the library to continue my research, more motivated than ever to prove that the fae woman was not Dayton’s mate.
“It’s rude to read at the table.” A rough voice jolts me from my book, and I look up to see Keldarion standing at his usual seat across from me.
His pure white hair is wet, dampening the fabric of his shirt. It seems almost a size too small, clinging to all the right places. His scent fills me with a strange thrill, a combination of pine and something more primal—a salty sea musk.
“You were in Dayton’s hot springs.”
“I do bathe,” Keldarion says, loading his plate with food, “occasionally.”
I can’t help but laugh at that, and when I look up at him, he’s stilled, and giving me a bemused expression. Flushing, I look away. The rest of the table is still empty.
“Dayton drank a little too much,” I say, careful not to mention the guest he brought in. “Farron went to help him.”
“Farron makes a show of trying to untangle the curse.” Keldarion utters a sound of displeasure from the back of his throat. “You’ll soon find that he’s his own worst enemy.”
“Where’s Ezryn?” I notice his empty seat.
Keldarion puts an especially hard slam of roasted squash on his plate. “Hunting.”
“Hunting? Like for food?”
“Goblins,” Keldarion says. “His efforts are a waste, though. For every one he kills, the Below creates two more.”
“Why does Ezryn go if it makes no difference?”
Keldarion inclines his head. A water droplet slides down the strong curve of his jaw. “Ezryn has a great hatred for all creatures of the Below. Hunting is how he controls that rage.”
I guess it’s just going to be me and Keldarion for dinner tonight. Nope, not awkward at all…
Keldarion runs his hand through his hair before returning to serving his dinner, but his scent wafts toward me again.
I can’t help but give another deep inhale. There’s something so incredibly right about his smell mixing with Dayton’s, a fusion of winter and summer.
I shake my head. What is wrong with me? Maybe it’s something about being in the fae world, but I never noticed smells this much before.
It gives me an idea. Maybe mates smell the same, and we can use that to help them find theirs. I turn back to my book and thumb through it, looking for any information about scents.
There’s a clink in front of me as Keldarion drops a perfectly prepared plate of food. Even with the extra roll, just how I like it.
“I was going to eat,” I mumble, turning back to my book, “right after this chapter.”
Keldarion grabs my book and yanks it up. “I told you. It’s rude to read at dinner.”
“It’s also rude to steal someone’s book.” I don’t let go. Neither does he, and suddenly I’m dangling as he’s holding both me and my book above the ground.
I glower at him and kick my legs. A terrible ripping sounds. I guess this book wasn’t built to hold a grown-ass woman, because now I’m falling through the air.
Keldarion drops the book and grabs me around the waist. I let out an unladylike “Oof!” Now he’s holding me like we’re about to walk into our first house.
This is so embarrassing.
But it’s also strange. I’m not worried about being too heavy for him. He doesn’t look strained. Just angry.
I’m used to that.
“My book,” I whimper as the pages of it flutter around us. I reach out and grab one.
“What was so important anyway?” he grumbles.
“It was for you, idiot. I’m researching mates, remember?”
An annoyed rumble sounds in his chest, which I feel because I’m literally pressed right against it. “It’s a waste of your time.”
“No, it’s not.” I can’t even look at him. Instead, I read the page in front of me. This is a passage I haven’t seen before. My brows shoot up, and I scramble in his arms to get down.
But he doesn’t let me go. Instead, we awkwardly tussle until my arms are looped around his neck, my legs around his waist, but I can’t concentrate on that because I’m so focused on this page. This could be good. This could be really good.
I finish reading the page. This is it! This is the first real lead I’ve found.
Except I’m still in Kel’s arms like some sort of demon spider monkey, and I’m not sure why he hasn’t put me down yet. I know he’s a powerful force of nature, but he’s gentle with me. His hard body presses against my curves and his heat travels through me like wildfire. How can he be a Prince of Winter when I’m melting in his strong embrace? My skin tingles and my heart races. The intoxicating scent of pine merged with salt makes my head spin, and all I want is more.
The touch of our hands during the bargain hadn’t been like this. That was nothing compared to now. His muscular arms tighten around me, like he’s never going to let me go. His inhale is a delicious shudder.
Wait, what? Is he seriously smelling my hair right now?
Breath catches in my throat. “What do I smell like?”
His body stiffens, then he growls, “Get. Off. Of. Me.”
I scramble off him, my heart thumping against my ribs and my throat constricting. His face doesn’t show the rage I expected, rather something indefinable, as if he’s trying to convey a meaning I can’t quite discern. “Your mate… I—”
“What?” he says through clenched teeth.
“I think I know a way to find her,” I say, and his expression softens. I wave the page in my hand. “It says here that sometimes in great trauma, the mating bond can lie dormant for years, even decades. Perhaps all your mating bonds were suppressed during the curse by that wicked enchantress. So, we need to trigger it. Bring it to the surface. It mentions here it can awaken during something big, like a mate being in danger, or during a moment of significance.” My fingers dig into the sleeve of his shirt. “If we could figure out how to stage an event like that, maybe you could all find your mates.”
“You’re rambling,” he says, but his voice has lost all menace.
“I have the best idea! Oh my gosh, I have to find Farron.”
I duck and scramble to pick up pages of the torn book. “Thanks for the help!” I look back at him as I exit the dining hall, but he’s just staring at me, that same unreadable expression on his handsome face.