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The roses bled faster, soaking the ones below. The curse was almost complete. Her breath came short, stripping the magic of the seasonal realms. Her magic. She would not be able to stray from Castletree for long, lest there was no one to keep it strong. Castletree needed to stay healthy for George.
But sacrifices were required.
The queen raised her hands and watched the princes, her daughter’s mates, change into what they truly were.
The bodies writhed on the floor, limbs twitching, backs arching, until they changed. Fur and jaws and claws.
Four monstrous wolves.
But the spell did not end with them. No, Aurelia’s curse leaked across the castle. These princes had treated their citizens like animals to be corralled, leaving them abandoned. So they would see what it was like to fail their people, to have animals as subjects.
She observed her monsters.
The bloody roses hovered above their heads, and she reached up to touch each one. “I lay a curse upon this castle, upon all those within it, and upon each high prince of the Vale. Every night, you shall take the hideous form of a beast. This spell may only be broken by winning the true love of your fated mate and accepting the mate bond that has long been woven among the stars.” Either they would be worthy of her daughter, or they would die. A tear ran down her cheek. “For only then will you have proven you are worthy of your destiny.”
The wolves fell to the ground before her, the minds of beasts muddled with that of the fae.
Aurelia rose higher into the air, summoning the deepest corners of her magic. The cursed roses sunk down, then melded with the four flowers planted in the earth. Now only four roses remained: the pink of Spring, the turquoise of Summer, the orange of Autumn, and the sapphire of Winter.
The spell was sealed.
Aurelia faltered, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. The loss of magic was staggering. “These roses will remain at Castletree. When all their petals have fallen,” Aurelia said, closing her eyes, “the curse will be sealed forever, and you will be beasts for all time.”
The wolves howled, and she knew it was time to go. Aurelia disappeared into a beam of light. She wove through Castletree, watching as animals ran wild, fae failed by their leaders.
She appeared outside the doors, touching the bark and feeling it tremble beneath her touch. “Do not worry. I will return shortly to guide these monsters into the rulers they are meant to be. And if not, beasts they shall ever remain.”
Anya returned as dawn was cresting over Orca Cove. The tide was out, and light painted the log cabins gold and red and pink. She breathed in the air. Salty and crisp, it was different from the Vale. There was no prickle of magic or strange sweetness…
It was not necessarily a bad thing.
She found George still awake, worry drawn across his features. He ran to her, clutching her tight in his arms. She told him all of it, of the state of the Vale, of Rosalina’s mates.
“I’ll have to return there and set things right,” she said, brushing the hair back from his brow.
“We’ll make it work,” he said with an ever-determined smile on his face. “Lots of parents have busy jobs. I’ll stay with Rose while you sort things out in the Vale. Can you still spend weekends with us?”
She laughed. “Yes, George, I can come and go as I please.” The prospect felt within reach as she spoke it aloud to George. He had a way of weaving clarity through her chaos, of making the impossible seem effortless. “I can split my time between here and the Vale. And when Rosalina is old enough, we’ll travel there together.”
“Well, perhaps I’ll need to go even sooner.” George puffed out his chest. “See for myself if these princes are worthy of our Rose. Give them a little talking-to, you know.”
“You’re going to lecture the four most powerful fae in the Vale?”
“For our daughter? Of course. Besides, you’re the most powerful fae in the Vale.”
“No.” Anya’s eyebrows knit together. “That would be the last of our dear girl’s mates.”
“Cas,” George said, fondness in his tone. “We already know he’s worthy. Whether he can realize it for himself is another story. When I finally go to the Vale, I’d like to see the lad again.”
Anya pressed her head against his chest. “We’ll make this work. Though do you think you could get used to calling me Aurelia?”
“Aurelia,” he said.
On her husband’s tongue, the name sounded different to her than ever before. And perhaps it didn’t sound so bad after all.
“Aurelia,” George continued, cupping her face with his large hands and making her look up at him, “Anya, Annie, Mrs. O’Connell, Queen of the Enchanted Vale. I will call you whatever you wish. And whatever I call you, you will always be my love.”
Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes as he bent down, capturing her mouth with his. Heat swirled through her, a familiar sensation that no magic in the world could ever replicate.
