Chapter 35 Paeonia
?PAEONIA
Adistinct sense of belonging swarmed Paeonia’s chest as though invisible hands had reached inside and lit a lantern within her ribs.
The sight of Rowan’s castle—its flickering lights glimmering through the dark, mist-laden trees—felt like the ache of returning home after too long away.
And yet, the warmth of it was unsettling, almost mournful, as though the castle itself welcomed her, whispering that she had always been meant to cross its threshold.
The soft amber glow of firelight danced behind the window panes, smudged and foggy from the rain-condensed surface.
She faltered in her steps, dread creeping into her bones, her head sagging slightly.
How could she feel that odd sense of comfort, wanting to race back to the castle’s grounds, and at the same time be crushed with apprehension at seeing those familiar faces?
The memory of her father, gaunt and pale, forced her to trudge forward before the front steps of the castle.
The gargoyles that guarded the stone staircase were stained darker from the rain, droplets sliding from them like teardrops.
The sun began to set in the distance, casting a gilded halo around the peaked roofing.
The castle was as magnificent as it was decrepit.
Rowan had proved himself uncaring of maintaining the beauty of the structure.
She wondered if he simply did it to contravene his brother who locked him here—that if Rowan was to be shackled to this realm, he wasn’t about to also take care of this castle, no matter what it meant to his family, or even himself.
That thought saddened her, that maybe Rowan still loved this place.
Had good memories filled with joyous laughter and late nights.
And still, he was so vindictive, so incensed, that he abandoned any sense of adoration or fondness that he very well might still possess.
Snow began to mix with the rain, and Paeonia pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, keeping her dry now that she was properly dressed.
She titled her head to better see the castle, letting the chill air fill her lungs.
Small snowflakes fluttered in the evening solitude, an ethereal sight, the castle mysterious and inviting just the same.
Her eyes halted their appraisal while she summoned her confidence, spotting a figure in the window on the second floor.
Her throat bobbed as she made out Rowan’s looming figure shadowed in the glass, his horns a dark cast that extended from his silhouette.
He seemed to be looking at her, but after another beat, he turned and disappeared.
Finally, she ascended the steps and took out her key, unlocking the door.
When she stepped in, the air not much warmer than outside, she paused. The castle was silent except for the soft melodic music that began to drift through the room. She let out a grounding breath before following the sound.
The trail led to the expansive conservatory dusted with time. The grand piano, larger than the one in the parlor, breathed a new life into the room. Hunched over, playing it, was Rowan.
The music was sweet, a rich melody that pleased her ears, but it had a haunting allure to it. It sounded almost threatening. She moved further into the room, edging closer to him.
“It’s beautiful,” she said quietly.
Rowan finished playing, dropping his hands to his lap. He slowly turned and faced Paeonia, his eyes slicing through her, almost making her want to gasp. “You’ve returned,” he said flatly.
He was cast in twinkling shadows from the candlelight, scars across his face, his horns curled above his head. Breathtaking.
“I had to see my father.” She was hesitant to keep eye contact, wavering under his strong gaze.
He didn’t speak. She hoped he wouldn’t stay mad for long—she needed his help.
“Rowan,” she began, pleading, “I need you to help him. I need him to live. He’s so sick, and I can barely—” Her breath hitched, thwarting her words.
Rowan stood, widening Paeonia’s eyes. He crossed the room, malice in his gait.
She gulped when he stood no more than a foot away.
He reached out a hand, and she thought he might caress her.
His fingers grazed her neck, pushing her cloak back, exposing her collarbones.
She held her breath, his touch warm. She hated how much she wanted his touch.
She hated that she wished to fall into his embrace and cry.
For him to tell her it would be okay, and that he would do anything to help her.
She yelped when his fingers hooked around her necklace and yanked it off her neck. He held it between his large fingers, looking it over. “So, you found it, did you?”
“Why would you take it from me?” she whispered.
“Because I’d do anything to break this curse.” He glared at her. “Anything.”
“Why did you take it?” she asked again.
“I planned to use it in exchange for my well-being.”
“You’d steal something so precious to me—?” She shook her head. “Why didn’t you just ask me for it?”
“If you knew what it would grant me, you’d never hand it over.”
“Stop speaking in riddles!”
His eyes darkened. “I would do anything to escape this place. And that includes hurting you.”
She pursed her lips. “You’re a liar.”
Rowan clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing momentarily at her words, before sliding off the key he had gifted her and throwing the locket back. She fumbled it in her grasp, gaping at Rowan. “In case you ever think of returning again.”
Her heart clenched. She felt like he had just driven a dagger into her belly. She almost couldn’t breathe. “W-what?”
He slid the key into his pocket and glared at her. “Leave.”
She shook her head, a droplet of melted snow gliding down her flushed cheeks. “Rowan,” she whispered.
He sneered at her, pointing his hand back the way she came. “I said, get out!” His booming voice threatened to shake the castle.
Paeonia shied away, wishing the wall was closer behind her so when she stumbled, she had something to cling on to.
He snarled at her, rage filling his eyes. “Go on! Leave me! You are no longer tied to this bargain.”
Only anger fueled his hurtful words, but something else lingered below. Self-hatred. Abandonment. She shook her head again, and his fist clenched like he was restraining himself.
“You don’t get to kick me out. Not after what you did. You should be begging for my forgiveness!”
He scoffed, likely astonished she could be this foolish as to argue with an angry beast. He glanced at the window, and she knew he was staring at his reflection in it, fully-shifted before her.
How he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself.
Maybe he would finally kill her like she always thought he might.
“Our bargain is broken. You left. You owe me nothing more. And I do not want you to stay. To beg for me to help you. I won’t. And I certainly won’t beg you to stay.”
“But you want me to stay?” she asked quietly. When he didn’t respond, she added, “I do need your help. And I’m not going to just leave. But not just because I want you to save my father.” She sucked in a breath. “You say you’d do anything to break this curse, but I don’t believe that.”
His lips curled. “I stole your necklace; trading it with a sorcerer to protect my gardens from wilting. So that I won’t die when I break my curse.”
She swallowed, confused. “Why would you die when—?”
“Because,” he dragged out, “if I break my curse, my brother will kill you. And that will kill me in return. Not just the pain of losing a mate, but because you are tethered to me. You control these gardens too. And if you die, there is no chance of them surviving.”
“Would the curse not free you from the gardens?”
“No. I am the last member of the Alder Court, the sole member in Lyth. The gardens are usually tethered to us all, but because I am the last one, they will remain tethered to me.”
Her fingers clutched her locket tighter, shaking her head, thinking. “Still, you never exchanged my locket. Here it sits, in my hand.”
He remained quiet, like he had no refute, the pieces coming together in Paeonia’s mind.
“If you wanted my locket so badly, you wouldn’t have waited. Wouldn’t have left it out on your dresser. You changed your mind. You were going to break your bargain with the sorcerer.” Paeonia edged a bit closer to him.
He shook his head but made no effort to deny her words.
“I understand why you’re so lonely.”
He huffed a breath, his teeth still showing. “I don’t need you to understand me,” he muttered. She bent her brows, and his chest rumbled. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you see something worth saving.”
She sucked in a breath. “I came back to save my father. But do you know what else? Do you know what is eating me alive with guilt? I came back for more than just my father, and it’s killing me. Shall I share why?”
His lip twitched. “Oh, do enlighten me.”
She shook off his tone. “I care about my father more than anything in the world, so yes, I did come back to beg you to help him. But more than that. I came back because I knew you’d help me.
I came back because I felt the pull. The only reason I managed to find my way here again was because I could feel where this place was.
” She shook her head. “No, not this place. You. I could feel where you were. And—” She lost her breath.
His eyes seemed to grow angrier—darker—at her words. He moved closer, and she had no choice but to keep stumbling backward until she collided with the wall. She had wished to have the wall for support earlier, but now, it just acted as a barrier to trap her in, a web for Rowan to feast upon her.
“Do not lie to me,” he hissed.
“I’m not. I came back for you.”
He scoffed. “You call me cruel.” He shut his eyes, head leaning back. “You’re the one who brings the flowers to bloom, knowing I’ll watch them die.”
Her hands shook as she forced herself to reach out for him. His eyes flashed open.