LOGINSophia 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
Sophia's relief was palpable. She led Winter away from the main cavern, down a side tunnel that sloped gently upward. The lichen here grew thicker, providing enough light to navigate by. The tunnel opened into a smaller chamber, this one clearly natural. No signs of habitation, just raw stone and a small pool of water in the center, perfectly still, reflecting the glowing lichen like a mirror to some other world. "I come here when I need to think," Sophia said quietly. She sat down on a flat rock near the pool's edge, patting the space beside her. Winter sat, leaving a careful gap between them. The water's surface was so still it looked solid, like dark glass. "Where do you want me to start?" Sophia asked. "The massacre." Winter's voice was steadier than she felt. "Tell me what actually happened." Sophia's hands twisted together in her lap, knuckles white. She was quiet for so long that Winter thought maybe she wouldn't answer. Then she took a breath, and began. "It started wi
It was good. Better than good. Rich and savory, the meat tender, root vegetables soft, flavored with herbs she couldn't name. She ate mechanically, barely tasting it, too aware of the eyes on her. People trying not to stare but failing. "Ignore them," Alice said through a mouthful of stew. "They'll get bored eventually. Probably." A shadow fell across their makeshift table. Winter looked up and found Levi standing there, hands in his pockets, expression cautiously friendly. In better light, she could see details she'd missed last night. A thin scar bisecting his left eyebrow. Calluses on his hands that suggested weapon work, not just magic. Dark circles under his eyes that said he hadn't slept much either. "Can I sit?" he asked. Alice shrugged. "It's not my rock." Levi sat across from Winter, his long legs folding awkwardly. He didn't have food. Just watched Winter with that same intense focus from yesterday, like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "How are you feeling
Winter woke to whispers and the smell of something cooking. Not the harsh, burnt oat smell of Griselda's begrudging breakfasts, but something richer. Meat. Herbs. Her stomach cramped with sudden, vicious hungerShe kept her eyes closed for a few seconds longer, clinging to the grey space between sleep and waking where nothing was real yet. Where her mother wasn't alive. Where she wasn't in a witch enclave. Where Ezekiel wasn't somewhere far away, probably tearing apart his citadel looking for her (or maybe not looking at all, maybe relieved she was finally gone.... that thought hurt worse)."She's awake," Alice's voice, amused and quiet. "I can see you breathing different."Winter opened her eyes. The cave ceiling glittered above her, those strange crystal formations catching the morning light filtering in from somewhere. Morning. She'd slept through the entire night somehow, dreamless and heavy.Alice was sitting cross legged on her own pallet, braiding her dark curly hair. She'd c
"The Alpha King. Ezekiel Crescent." Alice's expression was carefully neutral. "They said he's your mate. Is that true?" Winter's hands clenched in the blankets. The bond, that ever-present thread of awareness, pulsed faintly in her chest. She could feel him even now, distant but there. Rage. Confusion. Something that tasted like grief. He thought she'd left. Thought she'd run. "Yes," she whispered. "It's true." "And he... hurt you?" Alice's voice was gentle but probing. "Levi said you were a prisoner. That you needed rescue." "I..." Winter stopped. How did she explain something she didn't understand herself? "I was a prisoner. At first. He locked me in, kept me isolated. But then..." She thought of his hands cradling her face. His voice, rough and halting, admitting he didn't want her gone. "Then it changed. He changed. Or I changed. I don't know." "Do you want to be here?" Alice asked quietly. "Or do you want to be back there?" It was the question Winter had been avoiding sin
The caves weren't crude or primitive. They were......magnificent. Ancient. The walls in some places were smooth as glass, carved by millennia of water flow, and they reflected the firelight in dancing patterns. In other places, crystalline formations jutted from ceiling and floor, glittering like frozen stars. The luminous lichen Alice had noticed earlier grew in deliberate patterns, almost like someone had cultivated it, providing steady blue green light in the darker corners. small alcoves and side chambers branched off the main cavern, most with fabric curtains hung across the openings for privacy. She glimpsed sleeping pallets, small personal belongings, the lived-in clutter of people making homes in impossible places. "We have a water source," Alice explained, gesturing to a distant corner where Winter could hear the musical trickle of running water. "Underground spring. Stays clean, stays cold. And there are vents , natural chimneys, basically. that let the smoke out and fr
He opened his mouth, then closed it, as if words had completely failed him. His gaze dropped to where her small hands were clenched in the fabric of his black tunic, her knuckles white. “You’re... you’re hurt,” she whispered, her voice a ragged, trembling thread of sound. His gaze snapped back to
“A drink won’t be enough,” Jax muttered, staring at the three perfect droplets of blood on the stone floor. “I’m going to need the whole barrel.” He ran a hand over his face, his expression one of a man who had been pushed far beyond the limits of his pay grade. “And a new pair of trousers for th
“Just enjoying the fine afternoon, Beta,” Rasmus said, his voice oozing false deference. “Imagine our surprise at finding such a rare flower blooming in our dreary garden.” His pale eyes fixed on Winter, his gaze insolent and slimy. “Your post is on the eastern wall, Rasmus,” Jax said, his voice d
“Exactly!” Rasmus agreed, leaning forward, his eyes alight with fervent energy. “He didn’t defend his honor. He defended a piece of property. He’s acting like a common cur with a new bone, snarling at anyone who comes near. He’s bewitched. Distracted. He skulks in the shadows, he barely speaks, and







