Rosalina
I SPEND THE REST of the night trying to calm my nerves from everything that transpired. First,
discovering something that might actually help the princes find their mates. But I haven’t dug into that
yet because when I went to find my research partner, he was in the midst of getting the best makeup
sex of his life. At least, that’s how it appeared.
What kind of relationship do Farron and Dayton have? It’s obvious they aren’t exclusive, figuring
Dayton brought that female back. Maybe I’m thinking of things in human terms. Fae might have
different expectations for relationships all together.
And meeting the Prince of Thorns. Caspian. The fury in which Keldarion had addressed him, the
possessive way he protected me. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. All the princes seem to have
their own reasons for hating Caspian, and even I can get on board with that. The thorns are really a
bad look for the castle.
You’re running out of time. What did he mean by that? Is there more to the curse that the princes
aren’t telling me?
A knock on the door draws me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I say.
Marigold pushes in her usual meal cart. Well, Marigold the plump brown racoon wearing an apron.
She told me she needs to hold on to some of her humanity, even in this form. I don’t know if I’ll ever
get used to seeing the staff like this.
Despite being allowed to roam the castle at night—as long as I don’t unlock rabid Farron—I spend
most of my nights curled up in bed, reading books I’ve borrowed from the library with a warm cup of
Rosalina
of the night trying to calm my nerves from everything that transpired. First,
discovering something that might actually help the princes find their mates. But I haven’t dug into that
yet because when I went to find my research partner, he was in the midst of getting the best makeup
What kind of relationship do Farron and Dayton have? It’s obvious they aren’t exclusive, figuring
Dayton brought that female back. Maybe I’m thinking of things in human terms. Fae might have
The fury in which Keldarion had addressed him, the
possessive way he protected me. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. All the princes seem to have
their own reasons for hating Caspian, and even I can get on board with that. The thorns are really a
What did he mean by that? Is there more to the curse that the princes
Marigold pushes in her usual meal cart. Well, Marigold the plump brown racoon wearing an apron.
She told me she needs to hold on to some of her humanity, even in this form. I don’t know if I’ll ever
Despite being allowed to roam the castle at night—as long as I don’t unlock rabid Farron—I spend
most of my nights curled up in bed, reading books I’ve borrowed from the library with a warm cup of
tea.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello, dearie.” She drops her paws from the cart, but still stands on two little legs. “I heard you
had quite the encounter this evening. Put the master in a right mood.”
That was another thing that took getting used to: the animals can talk. Absently, I wonder if the
princes’ wolf forms can too. “It seemed like the Prince of Thorns showed up just to taunt him.”
Marigold shakes her head. “I wouldn’t doubt it. Quite a nasty history those two have.”
“What kind of history?” I narrow my gaze. There had been venom when Kel spoke to Caspian.
“Now’s not the time. I like to gossip as much as the next, but there are some things even I won’t be
caught muttering about.”
I almost want to prod but a delicious smell hits me, and Marigold reaches her paws up to take the
lid off the tray. The roasted squash and fluffy bread from dinner.
“The master was quite adamant you be fed,” Marigold explains. “Said you didn’t eat any supper.”
Of course he noticed that. But my stomach growls staring at the food.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Marigold exits, her striped tail sashaying behind her.
I look down at my dinner plate. Why am I suddenly feeling guilty for not eating with Kel earlier? Is
it because I was the only one to show up? He’s my captor. I shouldn’t feel bad about anything.
“Arg!” I let out a frustrated growl, then slam the lid back on the tray. I grab a book from my bedside
table, put on my fluffiest robe and coziest slippers, then pick up my stupid dinner before I leave my
perfect temperature room in the Spring Wing.
“Can’t miss the Winter Wing,” I mutter as I walk. “Just follow the coldest breeze and most
hazardous hallway.”
One arm flies out to the side as I slip on the ice, while the other clutches my dinner tray against my
stomach. I know which door leads to Kel’s chambers because when Astrid gave me the tour, she told
me to never go there under any circumstances.
I’m not afraid. If Keldarion told Marigold to feed me, then he must have regained control of his
beast. What had set him off? Was it Caspian’s appearance or something else?
I pause at the door, and before I lose my nerve, give it three hard knocks. “It’s me. I came—”
Before I can even finish, the door creaks open, as if with a will of its own.
There’s no one behind it, and a bitter breeze whips at me through the crack. No worries about my
dinner being too hot, at least.
“Hello, dearie.” She drops her paws from the cart, but still stands on two little legs. “I heard you
That was another thing that took getting used to: the animals can talk. Absently, I wonder if the
“Now’s not the time. I like to gossip as much as the next, but there are some things even I won’t be
I almost want to prod but a delicious smell hits me, and Marigold reaches her paws up to take the
I look down at my dinner plate. Why am I suddenly feeling guilty for not eating with Kel earlier? Is
“Arg!” I let out a frustrated growl, then slam the lid back on the tray. I grab a book from my bedside
table, put on my fluffiest robe and coziest slippers, then pick up my stupid dinner before I leave my
“Can’t miss the Winter Wing,” I mutter as I walk. “Just follow the coldest breeze and most
One arm flies out to the side as I slip on the ice, while the other clutches my dinner tray against my
stomach. I know which door leads to Kel’s chambers because when Astrid gave me the tour, she told
I’m not afraid. If Keldarion told Marigold to feed me, then he must have regained control of his
I pause at the door, and before I lose my nerve, give it three hard knocks. “It’s me. I came—”
There’s no one behind it, and a bitter breeze whips at me through the crack. No worries about my
It’s freezing inside, and a thin layer of snow carpets the floor. Light snowflakes fall from the
ceiling.
“I came to uphold my deal. Dinner with you. Remember?” I lift my tray.
The room is an absolute disaster. The bed barely stands; threadbare blankets drape over the edge
and pool on the ground. The ratty couch is covered in snow, its cushions sagging in the middle and its
legs crusted with ice. The only light in the room comes from a strip of moonlight filtering through the
floor-to-ceiling window, casting eerily still shadows on the walls. Menacing thorns protrude from
every corner of the room, their long spindly branches reaching out and grasping at the frosty air. I’ve
never seen so many in one place.
I swallow in a dry throat. Is he even here?
Then, I spot movement in a dark corner, a shuffle of snow, and I’m staring face-to-face with two
glowing blue eyes. The rest of the beast is hidden by shadows, but the moonlight shines off those icy
spikes that protrude from his massive body.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the wolf rumbles and I gasp. So, he can speak. His voice is deeper and
louder than in his human form, like the cracking of a glacier.
I force my face to remain expressionless, completely nonjudgmental of his messy room and
terrifying form. “I’m here because I won’t be able to stand you berating me tomorrow for not
following through on my end of the deal.”
Can he hear the lie in my words? There’s a small table beside the couch, and I root through the
drawer before I find an old match. I spark it to life against the table and light a half-burned candle
stick. A soft, warm glow cascades through the room, and I push a pile of snow from the couch and
settle down.
My food is still hot, and we’re both silent as I eat. But I can’t stand the quiet. “I accidentally
walked into a rather awkward situation today with Dayton and Farron.” I put down my fork and look
across at Keldarion. “Is that what you meant by Farron being his own worst enemy?”
The wolf’s grumble is my only answer, so I’m left to fill in my own blanks. Farron seems adamant
about breaking the curse, but could there be a part of him that hesitates because of his own feelings
for Dayton? I finish the rest of my food, mulling it over. “Honestly, I’m kind of glad humans don’t
have mates. How awkward would it be if you found your mate and hated them? Or you were already
in love with someone else?”
“Mates are incredibly rare,” Keldarion rumbles from the corner.
It’s freezing inside, and a thin layer of snow carpets the floor. Light snowflakes fall from the
The room is an absolute disaster. The bed barely stands; threadbare blankets drape over the edge
and pool on the ground. The ratty couch is covered in snow, its cushions sagging in the middle and its
legs crusted with ice. The only light in the room comes from a strip of moonlight filtering through the
floor-to-ceiling window, casting eerily still shadows on the walls. Menacing thorns protrude from
I’ve
Then, I spot movement in a dark corner, a shuffle of snow, and I’m staring face-to-face with two
glowing blue eyes. The rest of the beast is hidden by shadows, but the moonlight shines off those icy
“You shouldn’t be here,” the wolf rumbles and I gasp. So, he can speak. His voice is deeper and
I force my face to remain expressionless, completely nonjudgmental of his messy room and
terrifying form. “I’m here because I won’t be able to stand you berating me tomorrow for not
There’s a small table beside the couch, and I root through the
drawer before I find an old match. I spark it to life against the table and light a half-burned candle
stick. A soft, warm glow cascades through the room, and I push a pile of snow from the couch and
My food is still hot, and we’re both silent as I eat. But I can’t stand the quiet. “I accidentally
walked into a rather awkward situation today with Dayton and Farron.” I put down my fork and look
The wolf’s grumble is my only answer, so I’m left to fill in my own blanks. Farron seems adamant
about breaking the curse, but could there be a part of him that hesitates because of his own feelings
for Dayton? I finish the rest of my food, mulling it over. “Honestly, I’m kind of glad humans don’t
have mates. How awkward would it be if you found your mate and hated them? Or you were already
“Probably for good reason. It doesn’t seem fair, to have no say who you fall in love with.” I
wonder if that’s what Farron feels. If that’s what the engaged fae princess in the book felt after she
met her carpenter mate. Or had finding him been the best moment of her life? I realize Keldarion has
been silent, and I feel a little guilty. “Don’t listen to me. You’ll love your mate. She’ll break your
curse. I’m sure this is me being a naïve human, as usual.”
A growl passes through the wolf, and he stands, snow falling off him in heaps. For a moment, I
almost think he’s going to come to me. But he circles like a cat getting comfortable and lies down
again.
Lies down facing away from me.
“Someone’s grumpy tonight,” I mutter as I put my plate on the floor. Should I leave? I’ve fulfilled
my duty of eating dinner. My gut twists. I know on the days when I’m lost in the darkest parts of my
mind, there’s always one thing that can pull me out.
From the pocket of my robe, I grab a book. “I’m still a little offended. Earlier, you asked about my
boring books. Well, my books are anything but boring.”
I open the fae book. It’s a great story, a romantic adventure Farron recommended about a druidic
princess and her ranger best friend trying to reclaim their magic. I’d read through half the book last
night. But now I turn to page one and start from the beginning.
“The tree was talking to me again,” I say, reading out the first sentence. “It had a faraway voice,
delicate as the whisper of wind through the leaves and sharp as the crack of a dry branch.”
I lose myself in the words, and Keldarion doesn’t interrupt or kick me out. After the first chapter, I
notice he’s moved slightly, his slitted glowing eyes watching me. And I hope he comes with me into a
jungle of adventure, of ancient beasts and old curses, and far from the darkness of his mind.
“Probably for good reason. It doesn’t seem fair, to have no say who you fall in love with.” I
wonder if that’s what Farron feels. If that’s what the engaged fae princess in the book felt after she
met her carpenter mate. Or had finding him been the best moment of her life? I realize Keldarion has
been silent, and I feel a little guilty. “Don’t listen to me. You’ll love your mate. She’ll break your
A growl passes through the wolf, and he stands, snow falling off him in heaps. For a moment, I
almost think he’s going to come to me. But he circles like a cat getting comfortable and lies down
“Someone’s grumpy tonight,” I mutter as I put my plate on the floor. Should I leave? I’ve fulfilled
my duty of eating dinner. My gut twists. I know on the days when I’m lost in the darkest parts of my
From the pocket of my robe, I grab a book. “I’m still a little offended. Earlier, you asked about my
I open the fae book. It’s a great story, a romantic adventure Farron recommended about a druidic
princess and her ranger best friend trying to reclaim their magic. I’d read through half the book last
“The tree was talking to me again,” I say, reading out the first sentence. “It had a faraway voice,
I lose myself in the words, and Keldarion doesn’t interrupt or kick me out. After the first chapter, I
notice he’s moved slightly, his slitted glowing eyes watching me. And I hope he comes with me into a
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A SHIVER RUNS THROUGH my entire body, and something wet prods my face. I twist, grumbling
sleepily. Why am I so cold?
“Get on,” a commanding, deep voice says.
My eyes flutter open, and I swat out my hands. Softness. Then I’m rolling until I’m surrounded by
silky white fur. A soft swaying motion makes my gaze droop. I think we’re moving. The next thing I
know, I’m falling into a plush bed.
I know these pillows, these blankets. My bed. Some survival instinct takes over and I scramble to
get my ice cube body under the sheets. But I miss the softness. The smell of winter.
With a sleepy hand I reach out and grasp a tuft of white fur, muttering something.
The fur slips from my fingers as I drift into oblivion.
Sun washes over me in the morning and I blink awake. When I swing my feet out of bed, they land
in a pile of fluffy snow.
Just how long had the Prince of Winter stayed beside me?