Chapter 45
?ROWAN
Agentle light tickled Rowan’s skin, licking and tugging him in Paeonia’s direction. A feeling so gentle, so in tune with another person that he was almost forced to his knees. But now he hated her softness, the light that led him and Laurus to her.
They moved about the halls, the shadows wrapping around his wrists. Paeonia’s light retreated whenever Laurus’ shadows got too close, and Rowan wondered if they’d start to retreat from his darkness too.
Rowan followed her trail throughout the castle, the golden glow now wafting around a bend in the hall, leading him straight for the gardens where he could sense Paeonia lingered. Why was she still here?
His heart almost stopped when he saw her with the other Stoneborne in the entry of the gardens. How perfect she was. Even without that ethereal glow all the females he had ever known possessed, she shined like something marvelous. Straight out of a dream.
“There she is,” Laurus chimed.
“Do not hurt her,” Rowan growled.
Laurus slid into his shadows, spiraling into the garden, and Rowan had to watch as the others gasped. He moved quickly, darting out the door, around the bend, and off the terrace. But Laurus already had Paeonia in his roots that slithered all around her.
His garden determined the strength of Rowan’s prowess, and even with it blooming so fully lately, it still wasn’t how it was before the curse overtook him.
She whined, terror crossing her features, and Rowan had to look away from her. His brother’s corruption had gone too far, had poisoned him entirely, and he would never stop, never be satisfied, never rest, until Rowan was made to endure the same agony he had suffered. Until his ruin was mirrored.
“Perhaps, I’ll grant you the honor,” Laurus crooned, his voice slick with malice.
Rowan’s brow furrowed, a prayer caught in his chest that Laurus’s mind had not drowned so deep as to crave such cruelty—to force Rowan to wield the blade himself. Once, his brother had been gentle, forgiving. Now, he was nothing but fractured steel, jagged and cruel.
Laurus’ grin cut like metal. “Do not fret, brother. I only jest. I will see to it myself. And you will watch. You will feel what it is to lose as I have lost at the hands of a brother.”
“If you touch her,” Rowan threatened.
Laurus’ gaze slid toward him, dripping with disdain. “You’ll do what?” To mock him further, Laurus’ shadows slithered tighter around Rowan’s arms. “You cannot even move.” He turned toward the Stoneborne looming in defense of Paeonia, his voice a lash. “Stand aside.”
When they didn’t move, Laurus shook his head and lifted his armored hand. His shadows surrounded the Stoneborne, cinching them in their vise, shoving them across the room, leaving Paeonia undefended. Her eyes widened in terror, pleading as they gazed at his brother.
“I do so wish to be the one to take her from you,” Laurus cooed, tilting his head as he examined her. “Just as you had done to me.”
Rowan sneered, his hands ready to tighten around Laurus’ neck if only he could reach. Paeonia’s soft voice caught his attention, diverting his eyes to her, away from his brother.
“He didn’t mean to.”
Laurus laughed, his shadows twirling around Pae, fluttering her skirts, climbing across her neck, making her shudder. Rage unleashed inside Rowan, roots from the trees nearby begging to sprout from the ground. Some managed, delving higher into the night, wanting to tear Laurus away.
Paeonia seemed to notice, her eyes flickering to the source of the light’s shadowing.
“He didn’t mean to,” Laurus repeated in mockery. “Such a sweet, little thing.” His shadow acted as a hand, tilting her chin. “How a delicate, naive girl could be that monster’s mate is beyond me. If anything, I’m doing you a kindness.”
Paeonia flinched, yet she narrowed her eyes at him, like she thought she might intimidate Laurus. He half expected her to look his way, to beg for help, but to his surprise, she held her ground while his brother threatened her. He didn’t know if he found it admirable or completely fucking foolish.
“Pae,” Rowan called, but she didn’t waver.
“It was Astara. She was jealous. She loved you,” she told Laurus. “She told Georgia to go to the gardens that night knowing Rowan was waiting there.”
Laurus growled. “It doesn’t matter who sent my Georgia to the gardens!”
Paeonia flinched. “It’s not his fault! He had to fulfill the bargain.”
Laurus grinned, but there was no joy in it. He slowly turned his head toward Rowan. “You hear that? Your little lover thinks you a good enough fae to have not killed Georgia out of your own free will.”
Pae finally met Rowan’s eyes, and she seemed lost.
“Pae,” Rowan said again, shaking his head. “I knew what I was doing when I killed Georgia. I didn’t just lose all autonomy.”
“B-but, Astara said—”
“It doesn’t matter if she sent Georgia out. I killed her. I took her life.” He groaned as her eyes widened. “I never told you I had good morals, so don’t fucking look at me like that.”
Her throat bobbed, and she shifted her attention back to Laurus, her shoulders sinking. She really thought she had found some perfect explanation as to why Rowan killed Georgia.
“He’s a shadow ledger, sweet Pae,” Laurus said, his hand replacing his shadows and wrapping around her neck.
Rowan made a low sound in his throat, his roots beginning to break through the windows.
“He always had it in him to do terrible misdeeds. And don’t think that’s the only one.
You should see what he does in the darkness of the night. ”
A tear slipped from Paeonia’s eyes. Rowan was so focused on her, he hadn’t realized Castor slid up to his side.
“The locket,” he whispered.
Rowan glanced down at him. He could feel the warmth from Paeonia’s necklace even as it rested on her neckline several feet away.
“What about it?”
Castor snarled, leaning in closer, hissing, “Your blood bond. It’s imprinted on the locket. It’s hot with magic. A blood bond is stronger than a curse because the parties involved must do it willingly.”
Rowan’s eyes remained fixed on Laurus’ hands on Pae’s neck. “It is,” he growled. Tonight was the final night; the time which Rowan had to supply Veran with bond’s end. And he failed to do so. Couldn’t get himself to do so.
He was about to break his bargain.
He’d lose all his magic, the gardens would fall, and he would die. All this pretense, tricking Paeonia to falling for him, and how poetic for him to still fall to his demise.
Paeonia fought against Laurus, and Rowan could feel her racing heart. Feel her terror. The pain that stole her breath.
“He’s no saint. And neither am I,” Laurus hissed. He leaned in, his lips inches from her own. “I am going to relish this.”
“Paeonia,” Rowan called sternly.
Laurus whipped his head to look at him, irritated, his face red with anger.
One of Rowan’s roots used this distraction to slither along Paeonia’s side, tickling her hand. She looked astonished as her attention fixated on Rowan’s magic. Then, a small flower bloomed at the end of the root. A peony.
Her lips wavered, tears in her eyes.
“I thought about dragging this out,” Laurus sneered, “but perhaps I’ll just snap her neck now. Get it over with. Leave you with her corpse.”
Rowan’s eyes remained on Pae, and she gave him a pleading look.
Laurus shoved her to the ground, his shadows encompassing her body. “Or perhaps,” he drawled, a sick grin forming on his lips, “I’ll take her here, before you. Let you watch as she whimpers and cries. Then, I’ll kill her.”
Laurus’ shadows bound Rowan like chains, wrapping tight across his arms and chest, stifling the very breath from him.
Once, he might have torn free—might have bested his brother as easily as snapping a branch—but that strength was long buried.
Now the darkness writhed over his skin, biting deeper, reminding him of every failure.
“I’m sorry.” Rowan bit out.
Laurus’ jaw worked, his eyes sharpening.
“I’m sorry, Laurus. I never wanted it to be her. I failed you as a brother. I betrayed you.”
Laurus’ gaze slid to Paeonia, cruel and knowing. “Do you love him?” His voice was a silken rasp, already savoring the answer. He didn’t need to hear it—he could see it in her trembling, in the way her eyes sought Rowan even in terror. When she confessed, it would seal her doom.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
Rowan thrashed against the bonds, his chest heaving with rage, but the shadows only constricted tighter.
Paeonia’s fingers twitched, reaching for something—anything.
And the garden answered. The vines that slithered across the stones to her, a single blossom bending to her hand, its stem curling between her fingers like a vow.
Light sparked at her touch—gentle, then fierce—like dawn piercing through storm clouds. The glow licked at Laurus’ shadows, making them recoil with a hiss before they slithered back, doubling down, wrapping across her shoulders and throat.
Rowan’s heart clawed against his ribs. “No!” His voice broke, raw with desperation.
He locked eyes with her, silver meeting green, and something inside him cracked open.
“Don’t take her from me,” he said in pain.
It wasn’t soft, wasn’t tender—the words tore out of him, rough and jagged—but they were truer than anything he had ever spoken.
Even as darkness wrapped her in coils, she smiled. A small, defiant curve of her lips, as though she saw through every shadow to the male beneath—the monster, the curse, the ruin—and loved him still.
That smile undid him.
The creeping numbness spread faster now, a petrifying weight crawling from his feet upward, stiffening bone, locking muscle. His fingers began to wither to bone, his chest seizing. He was slipping away. He was losing his magic.
And Laurus, triumphant, raised his hand to deliver the final blow.