LOGINThree 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
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
She found him in the northern forge, just as Jax had described. It wasn’t a weapons smithy, but a smaller, private place. The air was hot and thick with the smell of metal and coal smoke. The forge fire burned low, casting the room in a hellish red orange light. He was standing by a quenching barr
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







