Page 55 of Forged By Malice (Beasts of the Briar #3)

54

Rosalina

T he Nightingale sails off me in a blast of ice, and I heave in great gulps of air, grabbing at my raw throat. My muscles ache. Through the haze of goblins, I see him. Keldarion. But even if I hadn’t seen him, I’d know he was here. My mate bond blooms bright in my chest.

But strangest of all, he’s not alone.

He’s with the Prince of Thorns.

They stand back-to-back in the middle of the grove as a host of Dreadknights and goblins charge. I can’t see the Nightingale through the throng. I wonder if Kel’s blast killed her.

With gritted teeth, I force myself to get up. I need to get to Kel, and at the moment, he and Cas are the legion’s entire focus. The two of them move with knife-edge precision. Though surrounded, not a single goblin makes it past their flanks. Magic—ice and thorns—flows perfectly with the strikes of their blades. It almost has the fluidity of a dance. A dance, I realize, they must have done many times before.

This isn’t the first time they’ve fought on the same side. It’s evident in the duality of their blows, the thorns covered in a dreadful frost as they penetrate the enemy, their feet moving in unison with each other.

A blur moves to the left, and I dodge as a goblin strikes out. Guess they’re tired of ignoring me. I shoot a briar from my bracelets, and it wraps around the creature’s torso, pinning it to the ground. Then I take off into the sea of bodies, letting my mate bond tug me to Kel.

He glitters white as snow through the chaos, swirling with Caspian’s purple and black shadows.

At least, I’m pretty sure it’s only leading me to Kel.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A Dreadknight steps in my path, his iridescent armor glimmering in the moonlight.

I yelp and throw myself to the ground to avoid his grasp. He kicks me in the gut, sending me rolling into a goblin . A goblin who doesn’t think twice before using its blade to strike me across the arm, leaving a line of sticky red blood. If I don’t get up, I’m going to die.

“Rosalina!” Keldarion roars, fighting toward me, Caspian at his back.

“Kel!” I scream. Yearning fights through the terror.

The goblin moves to strike again, and I throw up a thick briar to block its attack.

Rosalina, hold on! Farron yells in my mind.

At the thought of my mate, my body burns. I stand and white flames explode from my hands. They sear the Dreadknight in front of me. He screams, falling back.

And for a single moment, I see a path to Kel. Once I’m with him, we can help Ezryn break free of his nightmares. Breathing rabid with fear, I run, darting around the confused Dreadknights and goblins. They say Caspian’s name, voices tinged with confusion and … anger.

He’s betrayed them, I realize.

A goblin grabs at me from behind, ripping my dress, but I tug it free. Almost at Kel. Another goblin leaps in my path, chittering, blade outstretched. I don’t have time to stop.

A large bramble grows beneath my feet, propelling me up, up, up in the air, just how I saw the Nightingale use hers. The thorn hurls me forward. I’m weightless.

Then I fall into Keldarion. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close.

As if there was nothing else in the world, no goblins or knights, his lips crash over mine. It’s every longing moment of our separation being released at last. Something no dream could replicate.

My body blooms and lights at his touch, his soft mouth pressing against mine. And I pull away long enough to breathe his name.

“Oh stars.” Caspian rolls his eyes. “Do you two really need to do that now? Right now?”

Kel’s kiss deepens, hands tangling in my hair, and I don’t believe all the forces of the Above and Below could pull us apart now.

“Always surrounded by idiots.” Caspian sighs, but as he does, a great barrier of thorns grows in a tangle around us, delivering a tiny moment of respite.

The chilling touch of Kel’s body passes over me as I taste the snow and ice on his lips. Right now, I am safe. He pulls away and clutches my face. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s Ezryn. Those purple flowers spewed some pollen that trapped us in a nightmare,” I explain. “I threw myself in the water and it seemed to help wash everything off.”

“I’ll get him,” Keldarion says.

“Hope you turtle doves are ready,” Caspian calls, voice straining as he attempts to keep up the briar barrier. “Because the goblins really want to say hello.”

“Let them come.” Keldarion shoves me between himself and Caspian, then unsheathes the Sword of the Protector. When did he get that? It was under my bed here in the Spring Realm.

Caspian lets the barrier fall. The enemy charges. His thorn blade pierces one, and it comes back sticky with black blood. “Where’s your bow, Princess?”

“I don’t usually bring weapons to a party.” I duck under the swing of a Dreadknight.

“That was your first mistake.” He spins, and there in his hands is a bow made of thorns. “I trust you remember how to make the arrows?”

I take it gladly. Cas nods for me to follow, and we keep a close tail on Kel, toward Ezryn’s hunched form. He kneels in front of his mother’s sword, silent but shaking.

Kel sheathes his sword, then gives a mighty roar, heaving Ezryn up and hurtling him into the lake. Water splashes on the shore, but there’s no time to see if it works.

A host of Dreadknights surge toward us. I craft an arrow from my bracelet and notch it in the thorn bow. It flies, hitting its mark perfectly in a goblin’s skull.

“Nice shot,” Caspian purrs, striking a Dreadknight with his blade before kicking them.

Suddenly, I’m yanked back by a wet glove, and I’m face to face with Ezryn. His armor gleams with water, but there’s a familiar stillness to him.

Kel takes my position beside Caspian, keeping the horde from getting too close.

“Rosalina.” Ezryn’s voice is rattling. Hoarse.

Tears brim in my eyes. “You’re all right.”

“You are not.” Deep anger tinges his words. He quickly pulls off his gloves and puts one hand on my neck and the other on my scratched arm. Immediately, warmth passes through as my wounds fade away.

The shallowness of his breath, his shaking fingers … Whatever those nightmare flowers did, it left him weak, and now he’s using the last of his magic to heal me. “I’m all right.” I pull away. “Really.”

“Halt. All of you,” a female voice says. My blood goes cold.

The Dreadknights and the goblins obey immediately. The four of us gather in a tight cluster, the princes all pushing me to the center. I strain to look through their tall forms. There’s a sea of Dreadknights and goblins stretching so far, I can’t see the end of it. And she brought them all here to kill one High Prince.

Might have succeeded if Keldarion and Caspian hadn’t shown up.

Might still succeed.

The crowd parts as the Nightingale prowls forward. A chunk of her armor is shattered, the edges crusted with ice, leaving her shoulder exposed. And there’s the slightest limp in her gait, another patch of frost around her thigh.

Though I can’t say it leaves her any less deadly.

But it’s Caspian’s gaze she fixes on, and trilling laughter echoes off her armor. “I suppose they don’t call you the Great Betrayer for nothing. Won’t be the favorite after Mother hears of this, will you, brother?”

Brother. So, this is Caspian’s sister, the one he told me about months ago in the Autumn Realm. But he doesn’t seem inclined to answer her.

“Farron is close,” I whisper.

“Even with him, there’s still too many,” Keldarion growls, reaching for his necklace. “I will not risk you. We have to retreat.”

The Nightingale hisses like a cat. “Going to run away with your new family?”

“No.” Caspian straightens. “They aren’t my family.”

He steps in front of us, violet cape catching in the night wind, and twists a palm to the sky. “But let me remind you who is.”

From his hand sprouts a green flame.