11. ROSE
Eleven
ROSE
The next day, the thorns begin to thin. Sunlight, not the dim glow that filtered through the thorn-covered windows, streams across the bed and hits my face, and I realize I haven’t seen the sun in fucking years.
I cry, and Kael holds me through it. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to fix it. He just wraps his enormous body around mine and lets me sob into his warm chest while the sun moves across the floor of my tower room for the first time in decades.
And I feel his fury at the curse, at the years stolen from me, at the parents who locked me away, at the woman whose jealousy cost me such a large part of my life. It’s a cold anger. The anger of a man who’s already calculating how to make sure nothing ever hurts me again.
“I want to go outside,” I finally say when the crying stops.
“Your heat…”
“Is calming down. I can feel it. The waves are getting further apart.” I press my hand flat against his chest. I push the truth of my words to him, the heat loosening its grip, its desperate need cooling to a warm ache. “Kael, I want to see the sky.”
He looks at me for a long moment. Then he gets up, finds his trousers, and holds out his hand.
“Then let’s go see the sky.”
We go down the tower together. His hand dwarfing mine, fingers threaded through mine, steady and warm. I’m wearing his shirt; it hangs to my knees, smells like him, and I’m never giving it back.
The thorns have retreated from the doorway.
What’s left of them is shriveled and gray, pulling back into the earth like they were never even there to begin with.
And beyond, everything has gone back to green.
There’s grass, trees, open air, and a sky so blue, so vast that I stop on the threshold and can’t freaking move any further.
“Rose?”
I shake my head. “Just give me a second, Alpha.”
I step outside. The grass is cool and damp under my bare feet. The air smells like pine, earth and morning. Birds are singing, the sun heats my skin, and I close my eyes, tilt my face up, and just breathe.
Behind me, I hear voices. Ronan’s I recognize from yesterday. “Your Majesty, King Alaric is…”
“Here.”
And that’s my father’s voice. He sounds older than I remember, rougher, a bit cracked.
I turn.
He’s standing twenty feet away. His hair is all white. It was ebony when I fell asleep and now it’s white… he’s thinner, his face is lined, he looks like he’s aged a hundred years, not a couple of decades, and my heart shatters.
“Daddy.”
I throw myself into his arms, and he holds me so tight I can’t breathe. He’s shaking, this big, proud, powerful king, shaking. Then my mother is there too, throwing her arms around both of us, sobbing and whispering my name over and over like if she stops saying it I’ll vanish again.
I feel Kael standing back, giving us space. A warm, steady presence in my chest.
I’m here.
When I pull back from my parents, my mother cups my face. Her hands are thinner than I remember. Her eyes, though, are the same warm brown. And they’re full of tears.
“My baby. My baby girl.”
“Hi, Mama.”
My father’s eyes move past me. To Kael, who’s standing at the base of the tower, massive and scarred and fucking unmistakable. Then they go to the mark on my neck. And his eyes narrow…
“Rosalind.” His voice is dangerously calm. “What is that on your neck?”
“Uh… a bonding mark?” I ask than I say, thorn between amusement and worry about his reaction.
“I can see that. Whose bonding mark?”
I step back and hold my hand out. Kael steps forward and takes it. His fingers close around mine and through our bond, I feel his steadiness and complete absence of fear.
“Daddy,” I say, “this is Kael Voss, King of Valdemar. He walked through the thorns. He woke me up. And he’s my mate.”
My father stares at our joined hands. Then at Kael. Then at the mark on my neck. Then, at the matching mark on Kael’s neck.
Then, at Kael again. I almost laugh…
“You bonded my daughter,” he says flatly.
“Yes, sir,” Kael nods.
I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
My mother, God bless her, takes one look at us, at our joined hands, at our matching marks, at the way we’re standing close, like we cannot be separated, and bursts into new tears. Happy ones, I hope…
“Oh, you found each other.”
My father opens his mouth, probably to say something kingly and threatening, and my mother puts her hand on his arm.
“Alaric. Look at her.”
He looks. Really looks. Past the bonding mark, the too-big shirt and my tangled hair. My daddy looks at my face, my eyes. Then his jaw unclenches, and he turns to Kael with eyes that are still sharp but no longer lethal.
“You’ll take care of her.”
It’s not a question.
“With everything I have,” my mate promises.
My father nods once. Then he pulls me into his arms again and holds me so tight I feel his heartbeat against mine.
“I missed you, my little rose,” he whispers at my temple.
“Missed you too, Daddy.”
He laughs, letting out a wet, broken, fucking beautiful sound.
I reach back without looking and find my alpha’s hand.