Chapter 24 Caspian
Caspian
With what little freedom I’ve earned for saving Rosalina and the princes from our uninvited guest, I find myself in Wolfhelm’s library.
It’s nothing like the library in Castletree, which is the first place I’d gone after aligning with Kel over twenty-five years ago.
I’d seen a boy sitting in the corner, red-faced and peering out from behind a stack of books.
Back then, I wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or frightened by me.
The prince leaning against the wall bears little resemblance to the boy I once knew. He doesn’t even have a book in front of him. The frost on the window behind him glints like shattered glass in the pale light. Farron’s amber eyes are distant, fixed on something beyond the horizon.
I take a step closer, unsure if he’s aware of my presence. “You know, in the Below, you promised to pick out some good books for me,” I say, keeping my tone easy, though his silence unsettles me. “Doubt you’ll find any in Kel’s boring library.”
Farron shifts, his gaze sliding to meet mine. His face is unreadable. “There’s heat in Winter’s heart,” he murmurs, his words slow and deliberate. “A pulse too wild, too ancient. It stirs, like a beast in a fitful sleep. The stars shift in patterns even the ancients could not name.”
A chill creeps down my spine. “What are you saying?” I ask. “Are you speaking about Mount Rhuvenmark? You and Dayton are exploring it tomorrow, correct?”
“The day after tomorrow. I want to do some research first.” Farron tilts his head, his breath fogging the glass behind him. “I haven’t thanked you yet.”
“Like I said, I’ve had plenty of practice being the villain.
” Everything I told Ezryn was true. I’m not sure why I did it.
I know what it’s like to be in Farron’s position—a crowd bearing down on me for something awful.
No one ever stepped in to take the fall for me.
“You owe me,” I say. But the truth is I want Farron to know he still has friends… if we even are friends.
Farron snaps his gaze to me. We’re more than that now. We share the same magic.
“Stop that,” I snap at him.
“We share a mate. Is it so strange you can hear my thoughts?” Farron asks. “But we share more than a mate. Caspian, I need to ask you a question.”
“I’m not talking to you about this.” Because truthfully, my mind hasn’t been my own long enough to figure out a plan since Farron threw himself into the pool and my father manipulated him into taking a piece of his essence.
I don’t have any answers. I’ve been trying to think of a way to get his magic out of me for my entire life.
But how to get it out of someone else? I’m at a loss for ideas.
As for what Farron did to Dayton…
What will the Baron of the Green Flame demand for such a gift?
I bite my tongue to stop from snarling at Farron that he dare not use such power again. But what will that do? It’ll make him want to use it more. And why wouldn’t he? It brought back the man he loves.
“Caspian.” Farron steps closer to me. He still smells of cedarwood and amber, the faintest trace of smoke curling around him like the dying embers of a fire. “Why have you never accepted the gift of the Green Flame?” His voice is soft but insistent, a knife sliding beneath my guard.
The words hit me harder than I expect, and for a moment, the library vanishes.
I’m back in the desert, the sun blistering the horizon into molten gold.
The air tastes of ash and salt, and the sand shifting beneath my feet is hot enough to burn.
There’s the flash of a dark-haired woman reaching for me, an explorer clutching her around the waist. Come back to us, Cas.
Then it erupts: the roar of fire, the searing pain, the world fracturing. The memory is sharp and jagged, cutting through my chest. I see the fire devouring everything, the sands writhing like a living thing—cold and hollow—as the Green Flame consumes me.
I snap back to the present with a gasp. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I feel the shape of the wooden camel, clutching it until my knuckles turn white.
Farron’s amber eyes are watching me, unblinking, waiting for an answer I can’t give.
“I have accepted it, Farron,” I say, my voice hoarse. “And every time, I lose myself entirely until I’m a creature of my father’s will and malice.”
“You were young then.” Farron waves a dismissive hand.
I circle him warily. How does he know my age? “You keep calling it a gift. It’s not.”
“You’ve used it sparingly in such grand displays.
I didn’t appreciate it when you destroyed the Nightingale’s army in Spring.
Didn’t understand that’s merely a mote of the power inside you.
” Farron’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t look away.
“You’ve carried it all this time but never truly let it burn. Only that once, so long ago.”
The words stick in my throat like thorns. “I’ve seen what it can do. I’ve felt it. It doesn’t just burn—it destroys. And you don’t come back the same.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy and charged. Farron’s expression softens, but his eyes remain intent, as if he’s trying to pull the truth from me without me saying another word.
“Some things aren’t meant to be wielded,” I add.
Then his hand is on my face, forcing me to look at him. “You could have the whole world on their knees with the power you wield.”
I know, I think, not sure if the words reach him. That’s what I’m afraid of.
Shifting out of his grip, I give a light chuckle. “Come, Fare, why would I want the whole world on their knees? It’d be much more entertaining if it were only you before me.”
I take a step away from him, turning my attention to the towering ice shelves. Farron grabs hold of me. In one swift motion, he slams me back against the shelf, the impact sending books cascading around us like falling leaves.
He tilts his head. His soft curls almost brush past his chin. They frame his face in a way that emphasizes his jawline, strong and dusted with stubble. “You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, Cas.”
I open my mouth, close it. I’m suddenly at a complete loss for words.
His hand is firm on my shoulder. I’m wearing nothing more than drab, spare clothing they rustled up for me, but Farron must have brought some of his finery from Autumn.
His attire is darker than usual—deep maroons and browns that seem to drink in the light rather than reflect it.
“You said I owe you,” he says. “I could repay you right now.”
His eyes pull me in—the same amber hue as always but deeper, like molten gold caught in shadow. They drop to my lips.
“Careful, pup.” I smirk. “There aren’t any guards around to catch us. You wouldn’t be able to play this off as a diversion.”
“I don’t want diversion,” Farron says. “I want you.”
Then he kisses me.
His hand is on my jaw, his lips on mine. He’s not hesitant or questioning but warrior-fierce. Heat flares between us, cutting through the ever-present damnable cold. I find myself holding on to his tunic, pulling him closer, despite knowing I should stop.
The scents of cedarwood and smoke envelop me as he opens his mouth, tongue pressing between my lips. Farron slides his hand around the back of my neck, anchoring me to him. The kiss is desperate, like it’s the only way for him to bridge the gap I’ve placed between us since he stepped into the pool.
When he pulls away, his breath is warm against my cheek, and his gaze locks with mine. “You can fight me on this later,” he says, “but right now, I really want to kiss you again.”
Fuck him for doing this. Because after the never-ending pain in that prison of fire, gods, does it feel good to be touched like this.
I say nothing, because I can’t. Instead, I grip the front of his tunic tighter and pull him back to me.
This time, I kiss him.
There’s no hesitation, no moment for breath or thought—just heat, ferocious and unrelenting. He grabs my waist, drawing me in until not even a sliver of space remains between us.
I gasp against his lips as he shifts, his hands sliding down to my hips.
With surprising ease, he maneuvers me backward, his movements deliberate, until the edge of a table presses into the backs of my thighs.
Farron breaks the kiss long enough to meet my gaze, his amber eyes dark with intent, as if daring me to stop him.
I don’t. Stars, I need to. But I’ve already descended to the Below with him. How much further can we go?
“I tasted you,” he says, pupils blown, “when my tongue was deep inside her. I still tasted traces of you.”
A groan escapes me. I know he was with Rosie last night. Her scent is all over him in such an intoxicating way. Now I’m imagining it. “What would our little Flower think if she came into the library at this very moment?”
A wild grin spreads over Farron’s full lips, and he pushes me onto the table with such a force it sends books scattering to the floor. The cool wood presses against my back, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from him as he leans over me, his weight pinning me in place. “She’d be dripping.”
As if I’m not aware. I have Farron to blame for a lot to do with Rosalina.
After I first left her at Castletree, I swore I’d never see her again.
But then, of course, Rosie had to witness not one but two of her mates fucking.
Her arousal had been so strong. I’d tried to resist it, but the pull dragged me up to her.
If Kel hadn’t shown up, I’m not sure there was much that would have stopped me from dropping to my knees and promising her everything just for a kiss.
“That she would.” I sigh.
Farron’s hair falls forward in loose waves, brushing against my skin as he hovers over me, his lips claiming mine once more.
“Farron—” I breathe out between kisses, my voice catching on his name. My hands find the fabric of his tunic, clutching it as though letting go might shatter whatever fragile, dangerous thing blooms between us.
“You’re beautiful, Cas. I’ve always thought it.”
“And you, Autumn Prince, were always so…” I hesitate, cute on the tip of my tongue. But that doesn’t quite fit him anymore. “Enchanting.”
Farron lowers to me again, his hips pressing against mine. Fuck, he’s hard, and it’s making me…excited. Farron’s kisses trail from my mouth to my jaw, the rough stubble of his face scratching against my skin. He moves lower, his lips tracing a path down the curve of my neck.
“I want to mark you,” Farron says, voice lowering to an animalistic growl. “Do you think Kel would be jealous?”
My breath hitches.
“He doesn’t care about Rosie and me because we’re mates,” Farron continues. “But you…you he has no claim on. You he discarded.”
Discarded. Yes, that sums it up. Despite my taunting, the Winter Prince has barely spoken to me since I’ve arrived. “Kel just wishes I would leave.”
“Hmm.” Farron’s tongue flicks out before his lips press into the sensitive skin of my neck, sucking gently at first, then harder.
I can’t control the sound that escapes my throat—something between a gasp and a whimper—as the sensation floods through me, sharp and dizzying. My hands grip his shoulders, the faint scrape of his teeth sending sparks through my veins. I arch my hips, unable to help but grind against him.
“Fare,” I groan. “Fare, if you don’t stop, you’re going to find out Kel’s thoughts really quick.”
Farron pulls back. His amber eyes meet mine, gleaming with something primal and possessive. He smirks, his thumb brushing over the tender spot on my neck. “We’ll pause for now. I want to see you yearn for me for a while.”
Farron stands, straightening his vest, then strides from the library with the confidence of a god.
I fall back to the table, gasping. What in the seven realms did I create by taking our sweet Autumn princeling to the Below?