24. Rosalina
Rosalina
The shadows have stopped moving.
The thorns have retracted from my skin.
My body aches, and my lips are still swollen from his kisses. I sit up as the Prince of Thorns crosses the room. He picks up his discarded cloak.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, love?” He tosses the cloak over to me. “Couldn’t keep your eyes off it.”
How did he know?
He lazily pumps his cock as he watches me search through the folds of the fabric. Empty. Empty. He must have moved the rose.
The Prince of Thorns lets out a pained groan as cum spills over his hands. He sighs and stares me straight in the eye. “Would have rather emptied that in you. Guess I’ll have to start getting creative to make that icy bastard fall out of love with me.”
My eyes drift to the frosted thorn bracelet on his wrist.
Kel will always love you, I say in his mind. As I will.
He either doesn’t hear or ignores me and wanders to the attached privy.
A long sigh escapes me. My plan didn’t work.
Why do I feel this way?
I should be furious. Sickened. I should be screaming at the moon for ever believing he could be saved.
But instead, I press my hand to one of the thorns that broke through the mattress.
Because for a moment I saw him.
Not the Prince of Thorns.
Not the green fire god with eyes like molten emeralds and a voice that cracks the sky.
Caspian.
The man who once touched me like I was something precious. The man who saved me again and again. The man who stopped me from creating a darkness in my own heart, who bore that burden for me. The man who told me he feared his own magic and what might happen if he ever lost himself.
He lost himself.
And now I’m standing in the aftermath.
I drag my knees to my chest and try to breathe.
But the way he touched me, the way he looked at me, just before he pulled away… He was in there.
One thing is clear. I am the only person in the Enchanted Vale capable of breaking the Prince of Thorns.
And if I can break him, I can put him back together again.
The door opens and he steps out, looking immaculate. He snatches the cloak from my hands and fastens it around his neck. “You think my mother didn’t feel the rose as soon as I brought it to the Below? She commanded me to hand it over.”
My stomach drops. Sira has the rose? No. No, it can’t end like this… “Why hasn’t she used it then?”
He huffs a breath. “Controlling the will of all her creations is a monumental task. It takes a great deal of magic, even for my mother.”
“It’s why she’s been getting you to gather her creations here,” I say. “Everyone she got you to barter with to come to Cryptgarden under the promise of an alliance. She’s luring them here to take control.”
“Exactly. She’s making them promises of creating more of their kind, more riches, more power. She’s holding a gala soon where all may gaze upon the rose’s splendor. But it’s all a front to have them in one place.”
The pit in my stomach grows wider. She’ll steal their wills in one sweep. We don’t have much time.
The Prince of Thorns grips my jaw before dragging me into a kiss. “Don’t leave this room. I have to go. One of your mates is causing trouble.”
And with that, briars spring from the floor and carry him away.