Page 59 of Forged By Malice (Beasts of the Briar #3)

58

Rosalina

W e’re in the Below. I know it in the way I know my own name or that the sky is blue.

But this sky is not blue. There’s nothing above us but a gray, murky mist. A tight coil of thorns wraps around my body, and I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping me upright. Kel, Ezryn, Day, and Farron are all bound as well, and we form a circle around … Caspian.

The Prince of Thorns kneels, heaving up black rot. Standing above him is her. Sira. Queen of the Below.

My thoughts turn to Kairyn, left alone at the lake. He saved Ezryn. But there’s no one who can save us down here.

Breath rattles in my chest as I struggle to get my bearings. A circular platform extends around us, surrounded by seven spiked pillars. As I peer down, I realize how high we are, surrounded by a land of darkness and shadow. In the distance, a lavender glow flickers like a distant candle, casting an eerie light upon the grim landscape. Cryptgarden, perhaps. I remember walking through the city on Caspian’s birthday, looking up at the tower on which we now stand.

The Tower of Nether Reach.

“No,” Farron whispers, eyes wide and shining. “My magic … I can’t reach it down here.”

“We’re too far from Castletree,” Dayton mumbles. “It’s too weak.”

I feel for my own magic. It’s distant, like an echo of what once was. But the thorns imprisoning us … They feel vibrant, close. I can still use them, I know it.

Taking a steadying breath, I hone in on my control of the thorns, making sure I can grasp the ones around me. It takes me a bit longer to connect with the briars snaring my princes, but once I take control, perhaps I can get us home.

“So careless.” Sira walks around Caspian, though it would be more accurate to say glides, as if she does not need to step at all. “What were you thinking, releasing that thing ?”

Caspian sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “The High Princes took out the Dreadknights and goblins. I was desperate.”

“Risking your sister’s forces instead of your own.” Sira tsks . “I cannot decide if you are idiotic or brilliant.”

“Oh, Mother.” Caspian stands. The fluidity to his movements has returned. “You know, I always have a plan.”

Mother? The Queen of the Below … She’s Caspian’s mother. She raised him. He truly is born of darkness.

“And you can help with your sister’s plan. Take their tokens,” Sira says.

“As you wish, Mother,” Caspian says lowly. He walks over to the princes one by one, ripping off their necklaces. The snowflake from Kel, the wooden rectangle from Ezryn, the golden leaf from Farron, chains snapping.

“W-wait,” Dayton begs as Caspian stands in front of him. “It’s just one of the shells. Don’t rip the whole thing. They’re important—”

“For stars’ sake,” Caspian grumbles, tapping his foot impatiently, but releases Dayton’s hands from the thorns long enough for the Summer Prince to carefully untie his necklace and remove only the shell that is the token of the Queen.

“And her? What does she bear?” Sira asks, taking a step toward me. “Such a troubling little flower.”

“Nothing important, I’m sure,” Caspian says quickly and stands in front of me. His eyes burrow into my own. “Did your precious princes give you any jewelry to match theirs?”

I tear from his gaze, but my stomach roils at the thought of losing my necklace. The necklace with the moonstone rose that belonged to my mother, and the golden leaf I was gifted from the Autumn Realm.

“Take it,” Sira demands.

He does, ripping it in a swift movement. Then he holds it up before his mother. “A little leaf to match her Autumn mate.”

Sira shakes her head, as if the notion of mates and gifts is beneath her. Caspian didn’t hand over my rose. What did he do with it?

“Very well then. I suppose today is not lost after all. Though I do not believe you received orders to assassinate the High Prince of Spring,” Sira says, walking over to her son. He’s taller than her, but somehow, she’s able to look down on him.

“Thought I saw an opportunity,” Caspian says.

Lie after lie. He’s taking responsibility for everything his sister did.

“Still,” Sira taps a pointed fingernail on the side of her cheek, “there are easier ways to kill the High Prince of Spring.”

All the princes roar at once, but Ezryn’s voice cuts over them all. “Then kill me and be done with it,” he growls. “Make the High Princes bear witness to my death and your power if that is your will. But let them live . And know that with my death, you will face the full wrath of Spring and my brother’s vengeance.”

My world narrows to a frantic, singular purpose as Sira looks him up and down. “Don’t you dare touch him!” I snarl.

She ignores me, instead gliding over to Ezryn and placing a finger under his helm, lifting it up so he stares at her face. “How very gallant.”

Keldarion’s voice is more roar than words. “Harming him will bring all the forces of the Enchanted Vale down on the Below, Sira.”

Her red lips curve into a sinister smile, and she turns away from Ezryn to face Keldarion. “What forces, High Prince of Winter? Your people who have not had the strength of a leader in an age? Autumn? Those trembling folks were hardly capable of winning one battle, let alone an entire war. Or do you speak of Summer? Nothing more than a child’s dollhouse. No. I do not think I will worry too much.”

Shadows spill from Sira’s fingertips, dripping to form two sinister serpents.

“Spring will never bow to you,” Ezryn yells, thrashing against his binds.

Keldarion howls, the tiniest glint of frost gleaming on the edges of the thorns. But his magic won’t reach here. The shadow serpents lunge from the ground, jaws unhinging to reveal inky black incisors.

“Ezryn!” I scream, and the thorns binding me fall away like waves rolling off sand. I stretch out my hand. Thorns from my bracelet strike at the shadow serpents. As they hit, the two snakes disappear into a cloud of smoke.

Sira turns to me, eyes flashing.

While holding her gaze, I try to reach for the thorns chaining my princes. If I could just connect with all of them, then we could escape.

“So, the rumors are true,” Sira snarls. “How is this possible?”

Kel, Farron. I spread the magic further, reaching to connect with the thorns binding Ezryn and Dayton. A smile spreads over my lips. “I—”

“I made a bargain with her.” Caspian steps in front of me.

Sira’s expression contorts into one of fury.

There’s a hard crack as she slaps her son across the face. “Fix this.”

Caspian inhales a rattly breath. Shadows leach from Sira’s fingers, wrapping over Caspian’s thorns until they all shrivel and die. I feel the loss of the connection, like someone cut off my arm.

Then, like his mother, shadows creep from Caspian. “No,” I gasp. The gloom forms shackles around the princes’ ankles and wrists. Two inky black ropes shoot out and wrap around my arms, tethering me to the ground.

And Caspian’s eyes are entirely void.

“Let me go!” I cry out, pulling at them, but they don’t give. I have no connection to these like I did the thorns.

Caspian shrugs, dusting his shoulders, and the last of the shadows fall away from him like clouds, eyes returning to that dark purple.

Twice today I’ve witnessed Caspian wield magic I didn’t know he possessed. I had noticed this gloom around his thorns before, but always thought they were connected. No, these shadows he inherited from his mother.

“Rescind the bargain,” Sira commands, then shifts her gaze to me. “And I would not resist, girl, or you may find my mercy for the remaining princes short-lived.”

Instinctively, I try to reach for the thorn bracelets around my wrists, but the shadows hold my arms taunt.

“What bargain?” Keldarion growls.

I can’t bear to look at him, nor the rest of the princes. I should have told them. Now, my lie is out in the open.

Sira gives a light chuckle at Kel’s obvious torment. “Well, darling, what are you waiting for?”

“I can’t rescind the bargain.” Caspian practically spits out the words, his usual musical cadence now clipped and short. “She hasn’t fulfilled her end of it yet.”

My stomach drops. I whip my head up, hair flying in my face, trying desperately to find Caspian’s gaze. But he’s not even looking at me. No, no, no. Certainly he doesn’t mean now. Not here. Not in front of the princes of Castletree.

Sira waves an uninterested hand.

“Rosie,” Farron calls out, eyes wide, expression frantic as he struggles against the shadows. “Rosie, what did you make a bargain for?”

“For this.” Firm hands grab me, and suddenly I’m pulled flush against the Prince of Thorns. Then his lips are on mine. The kiss is rough and quick. He pulls away near instantly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as if to rid himself of the taste of me.

“We can consider the bargain fulfilled,” Caspian says.

But I can’t form words, my lips trembling. I’d barely been able to think about what a kiss with the Prince of Thorns might be like, but I had never imagined that . Like merely touching me disgusted him.

A distraught agony filters through my bond. I’m not sure if it’s from Keldarion or Farron. It’s Kel’s gaze I catch first. Anger is clear on his face, but it’s not directed at me or even Caspian, but at Sira. Ezryn is rigid as stone. Farron looks lost, confused. His eyes flash. “Dayton!”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Dayton snarls, voice low and feral. He surges forward and changes, body rippling into that of the golden wolf.

Shadows grab him from mid-air, sending him slamming to the earth hard enough to crack the stone. The Summer wolf growls and spits but cannot break free.

“Day,” I gasp, my voice trembling with tears. What trace of magic had allowed him to transform?

Sira eyes him curiously. Is this the first time she’s seen one of the beasts of the Briar?

“Save your strength, Daytonales,” Keldarion orders, not taking his gaze from Sira.

The Summer Prince gives a low whine and submits.

Caspian rolls his eyes, then easily restrains the wolf in shadows. He leans in close to me, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Say the bargain is fulfilled, Rosalina.”

My gaze flicks to my thorn bracelets. Without them, I can’t make my own arrows, can’t protect myself. Can’t save the princes. But what choice do I have? I can’t even use them now, trapped beneath Caspian’s shadows.

I meet the Prince of Thorns’ violet-flecked gaze. “The bargain is fulfilled.”

A jolt surges through me, and a burning sensation shoots along my arms. The bramble bracelets uncoil, then drop by my feet. A small, thin thorn falls from Caspian’s wrist.

Caspian looks to the thorns, then back up to me. “Guess you’re on your own now. Just like the last time you were here.”

Unbidden tears slide down my cheeks at the loss of the thorns.

“I thought it would be quite amusing,” Caspian runs a hand through his hair, “to bargain a kiss from Keldarion’s mate. Didn’t think she could get in too much trouble making a couple of extra briars, figuring the castle he keeps her in is already covered in them.”

“The Golden Rose,” Sira purrs. “Is that how she got the nickname? From using your magic, my son?”

“Those simple Autumn folk will turn anything into a song. Give them a rock, they’ll call it a diamond. Give them briars, they’ll call them roses.”

“Hmm, you are certainly rash. You should have informed me of your plan from the start. But you’ve always had a clever mind when it comes to bargains.” Sira snatches his wrist. “Like that perfectly wicked one you devised for the Prince of Winter.”