LOGINWinter walked until the voices faded.Past the sleeping chambers, past the practice room where she'd manifested (and nearly lost control of) her shadow magic, past the underground spring where Levi found her every morningShe walked until the lichen grew sparse and the darkness pressed close, until the only sound was her own breathing and the distant drip of water somewhere in the deepp.Nobody stopped her. Maybe they didn't notice her leaving, too busy celebrating her "progress" (their word, not hers)Or maybe they assumed she needed space after the demonstration. Either way, Winter was alone in the tunnels for the first time since she'd been brought here, and the solitude felt like finally surfacing after being held underwater.Her head still ached from the magic. Not a normal headache but something deeper, like she'd strained something inside her skull that wasn't meant to be used. Levi said it would get easier with practice.That using magic was like exercising a new muscle.Winte
The question hung between them. Winter didn't answer right away. Couldn't. Because the truthful answer would devastate her mother, would confirm everyone's fears about the bond's influence, would prove she was exactly as weak and confused as they thought. But the truthful answer was still: 'es. maybe. I don't know but I want the choice' "I want to talk to him," she said instead. "Just once. Ask him what he wants. What he intended. Because everyone here tells me he's a monster, but when I was there he also..." She struggled for words. "He let me see him. The real him, under the curse. And that person wasn't evil. Just broken." Levi absorbed this silently. Then: "Your grandmother broke him. With her curse." "I know." "Does that bother you?" "Yes." The admission felt like betrayal. "She had every right to her anger. To her revenge. But cursing an eighteen-year-old boy for his father's crimes... that's not justice. That's just more cruelty." "Most people here won't see it that way
Winter's hands clenched. "Sad. Confused. Angry sometimes. Guilty because I'm supposed to be grateful to be here but I just feel....." She stopped, the words damming up in her throat. "Feel what?" "Trapped!" The word burst out. "I went from Griselda's house to Ezekiel's citadel to here and nobody's asking what I want, where I want to be, everyone just keeps moving me around like I'm a piece in their game and I'm so tired of it!" Her voice cracked. "I'm tired of people deciding my life for me!" The shadows in the room shivered. Winter felt it more than saw it. A ripple through the darkness, like dropping a stone in still water. Levi went very still beside her. "Do that again" he breathed. "Do what? I didn't do anything!" "You did. You felt something real, something strong, and the shadows responded." His excitement was palpable. "Don't think about it. Just feel. What do you want right now, more than anything?" The answer came immediately, instinctively, from somewhere too deep a
She let him pull her to her feet, her damp soles cold against the stone floor. "Try what?" "Actually testing your magic instead of talking about your feelings. Feelings are complicated. Magic is straightforward." "I don't have magic." "Everyone with witch blood has magic. It just manifests differently." He led her deeper into the cave system, away from the main cavern. They passed through a narrow tunnel that opened into a smaller chamber she hadn't seen before. It was empty except for scorch marks on the walls and ceiling, black streaks that spoke of previous explosive experiments "This is the practice room," Levi explained. "Warded so nobody gets hurt if something goes wrong. Which it will, repeatedly, so don't feel bad about it." Winter's stomach twisted with anxiety. "I don't know what I'm doing." "Nobody does at first." He positioned himself across from her, maybe ten feet away. "Most magic falls into categories. Elemental—fire, water, earth, air. Healing. Transformation. D
Three days of questions Winter couldn't answer. Three days of Sophia hovering, eyes bright with desperate hope every time Winter entered a room. three days of witches introducing themselves with names she'd forget immediately, their faces blurring together into a mass of cautious curiosity and poorly hidden suspicion Three days of feeling Ezekiel through the bond like a distant storm on the horizon. Rage that came in waves, then went cold and empty in a way that scared her more than the anger. Winter sat on a flat rock near the underground spring, her bare feet dangling in water so cold it made her bones ache. Alice had told her the spring ran deep, fed by snowmelt from mountains she couldn't even see from down here. The cold helped. Made her focus on something physical instead of the mess inside her head. "You're doing it again." She didn't turn. Knew Levi's voice by now, the way he always sounded vaguely amused even when discussing serious things. He'd been assigned as her tea
Sophia reached for Winter again, but Winter stood abruptly, putting distance between them. "You sent money?" Winter's laugh was sharp. "Where did it go? Because I wore rags and ate scraps and slept in the cold. Whatever you sent, she kept for herself." "I should have checked on you," Sophia whispered. "I should have risked it." "Yes. You should have." Winter wrapped her arms around herself. "But you didn't. You stayed hidden, kept yourself safe, and left me to her." "I was terrified Theron would find us both." "He found me anyway!" Winter's voice echoed off the stone. "I'm bonded to his son! I ended up in the Crescent Citadel regardless! So what did your hiding accomplish except making me suffer alone?" Sophia had no answer for that. She sat on the rock, crying silently, and Winter stood with her back turned, shaking with anger and grief and confusion. The silence stretched. The pool stayed mirror-still. Finally, Sophia spoke, her voice hoarse. "His son. Ezekiel." She s
Jax scrubbed his hands over his face. “Thirteen years, Snow. Thirteen years I’ve known him as this..... thing. And he’s told you more in one night than he’s told me in the last five years combined.” He looked at her, and the fear in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of something else, something
The words fell into the oppressive heat of the forge, a quiet surrender. 'Sometimes...when the cold sets in' It was an admission of pain, of a weakness he had hidden from the world for years, and he had given it to her. Winter’s heart ached with a feeling so sharp and unfamiliar it stole her bre
“Oh, no. Oh, you’re both going to kill me,” Jax whispered, appearing in the doorway of the forge. He stopped dead, his face draining of all color as he took in the scene. He saw his king, shirtless and radiating a murderous aura. He saw Winter, pale and trembling but strangely defiant, standing in
Winter existed in a state of suspended terror. Days had passed since Ezekiel's violent claiming in the shadow of the laundry, since his mouth had bruised hers, his hands had seared her skin. Each creak of the citadel, each distant shout, sent her heart leaping into her throat, convinced he was co







