48. Rosalina
48
Rosalina
T his room has one bed and one bath. I’d be lying if they both weren’t appealing to me right now.
Slowly, I place the dry clothes we’ve been given on the bed. There are clean towels on the comforter. A bright pink blush stains Farron’s cheeks as he softly closes the door behind him. “I’ll go downstairs while you bathe,” he says. “You’re shivering.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, it’s not like you haven’t seen…”
And there it is spread out before us: the time in the hot springs when Dayton pleasured me while Farron watched… and refused to join.
“Just turn around,” I say. He nods, and I slowly peel off my soaking clothes, my breasts feeling extra tender from where he touched me. I live for those moments when he breaks free and acts . But I know it’s not fair of me to think like that, not when he has to find his mate.
A small gasp escapes me as I dip my toes into the clear water. Pin pricks alight over my cold skin as I slide in.
“How’s the temperature?” Farron asks.
“It’s perfect,” I sigh. “The sound of the rain, a warm bath… Give me a good book and some chocolate and it’d be a dream.”
He chuckles. “I think we left our books in Thea’s saddle. But chocolate I’ll remember for next time.”
I glide a hand through the steam. Farron shivers, dripping by the door.
Slowly, I rise out of the tub. “That felt amazing. Your turn—I don’t want the water to get cold before you have a chance.”
“Get back in, Rosie,” Farron says. “I’m fine.”
I lower myself into the water. “What if I face one way and you face the other? We won’t even touch.”
He lets out a sound part way between a growl and a moan. “That’s probably a bad idea.”
“Well, either that or I’ll get out so you can get in. I can’t just sit here, watching you shiver.”
He tilts his head, auburn hair dripping down his back. “Fine. Face the bed.”
There’s the wet slap of clothing on the ground, and I scoot myself to the edge of the tub, knees drawn to my chest.
The water rises close to the top as Farron steps in. This wooden tub is deep, but definitely not long enough for a nearly six-foot human and a six-foot-something fae prince. He slides in and his back brushes against mine, skin freezing.
I hiss in a breath, resisting the urge to lean against him.
“The water is warm,” Farron says.
“It is.”
Rain pitters against the window and in the distance, thunder rumbles. But inside, the hearth crackles comfortably.
“If it were any other night, this wouldn’t be such a bad place to stay,” Farron says.
My eyes drift to the corner. “There’s only one bed.”
“I know, Rosalina.”
I sink deeper into the water. The movement slides my spine against his. The thought of him so close, his lean body bare… Is his cock hard? Do you want me as much as I want you?
My hand dips between my legs. I brush the sensitive bundle of nerves, and a sharp gasp escapes me.
Farron stiffens, and I immediately remove my hands from the water. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
He laughs lightly. “Would you like me to get the knots out of your hair?”
Gingerly, I touch the rat’s nest on my head. “Okay.”
“I’m going to turn around. Stay where you are.”
The water splashes over the edge, and then his hands are on my shoulders. He tips my head into the water. I clasp my arms over my stomach as Farron delicately untangles my hair.
I squint up at him, his face soft, cheeks red from the warm water, the brown freckles like constellations across his nose. Even the thin collar of thorns around his neck looks enchanting.
“You’re really beautiful, Fare,” I whisper.
His fingers still, but there’s the quirk of a smile at the edge of his lips. “Sit up.” His elegant hands stroke through my hair and he begins to weave it into a braid.
“Wow, you’re really good at this,” I say.
“In Autumn, the idea of weaving or binding things together is very important,” he says, hands dancing through my hair.
“This idea is celebrated many places in the human world, too,” I say. “Where I’m from in the Pacific Northwest, the Coast Salish Peoples create beautiful textiles by weaving wool. And my father once told me of an ancient Celtic ritual called handfasting. Two people have their hands tied together to symbolize the binding of their lives.”
“Your world is beautiful,” Farron says. He lowers his head and whispers something too low for me to hear.
“Hmm?” I ask.
“Here, it’s customary when you braid someone’s hair or offer a bracelet or other woven item to imbue the braid with well wishes and good thoughts for the person.”
“What were you saying about me?” I whisper.
He places the braid over my shoulder. “That’s a secret.”
I turn in the tub, water sloshing over the side, until we’re looking at each other. “You braid Dayton’s hair all the time. What do you imbue then?”
He smirks. “Lots of things. Sometimes I wish for him to stop being such a dumbass. But most of the time, I speak of the love I feel for him, and a wish that he could feel the same.”
The breath catches in my throat. The way Farron’s looking at me, it’s as if he’s telling me the same. “Farron…”
“Why are you holding your arms that way?”
“Oh,” I say. “Not exactly the most attractive position. My stomach’s all scrunched up.”
Anger flashes across Farron’s face, and he reaches under the water to pull my hands away. “Stand up.”
“I—”
“Do it, Rosalina,” he says, command rippling in his words. I bite my lip and slowly stand up before him in the bath, the warm water sliding down the curves of my body.
“You are absolutely perfect,” he says.
There’s not only lust, but something reverent in his gaze. Like he wants to devour me down to my very essence—body, mind, and soul.
Every part of me aches to give him that. To merge ourselves so completely, I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
“Can I sit down now?”
“No. I’m admiring the view.” Farron smirks and leans back, arms spread on either side of the tub. The move and air of confidence seems like something he must have learned from our dear Summer Prince.
At the thought of Dayton, my heart pangs for him in a sudden desperate beat, and I wish he were here. Not that he wants anything to do with me.
“I know the others find me attractive,” I say, shifting from foot to foot. “Kel probably can’t help it because of the mate bond, but when he saw me this way, his desire was intense.”
Farron licks his lips, and his hand dips beneath the water as he adjusts. Does the idea of my mate seeing me like this turn him on? “Ezryn is the only one who hasn’t seen me naked.”
“Witnessing you unclothed would send Ezryn into the panic of a century. Honestly, I would love to see it.”
So Farron doesn’t just like the idea of seeing me with Kel, but with Ezryn, too. And he might not have joined in, but I think he enjoyed watching Dayton and me in the hot springs. “Ezryn has seen naked women before.”
“They aren’t you.” His eyes darken. “Are you really so unaware of the effect you have on them? The effect you have on me? Sit.”
I do, closer now, between his bent knees.
“Who made you think such a way about yourself?” His voice drops from flirty to serious, and then his gaze shifts to my wrist.
“I didn’t want to admit what Lucas truly was. Couldn’t let myself see the monster behind his smile.” At the mention of Lucas, the water seems to drop in temperature.
Farron brings my wrist to his lips. “Ezryn may have healed the wound, but only you can heal the scar. And some scars go deeper than your skin.”
“I should have let him die. The things he said when I tried to help him… How he attempted to hurt me again…”
Farron shakes his head. “Kindness and empathy aren’t weakness, Rosalina. Those things will always prevail.”
“I kept making the same mistakes with him, over and over. I thought I’d changed in the Enchanted Vale, that I’d learned everything I needed to know about myself. But when I got back to Orca Cove, I couldn’t even say no outright to the engagement.” Thoughts I’ve locked away in the deepest part of my mind spill out. But sharing them with Farron isn’t scary. I know he won’t judge me, no matter how much I regret my past choices. “Sometimes, I hate her. The girl I was. Sometimes, I’m worried she’s all I’ll ever be.”
“There’s no timeline for healing, Rosalina. You can be courageous one day and fearful the next.” He lets my hand fall and cups my cheek, leaning closer across the steaming water. “You’re on your journey, and that’s all that matters.”
“Same for you, Farron. Forgive the boy who was scared.”
His lips tremble. “But what if I’m still that scared boy?”
I place my hand over his. “What if I’ll always hate who I was before?”
We stay there for a heartbeat that feels like a thousand years, and I see myself reflected in his amber eyes. Bare and raw before each other. “I could be brave for you, Farron.”
He leans closer, his forehead resting against mine. “And what if I could love you? Past, present, and future? Every part of you, Rosalina.”
A gasp sounds in my chest, and I blink up at him. But before I can speak, he grabs my face and pulls me into a kiss.