Crescent (Book 1)

+ 6 +

"Leave this place."

I wake with a jolt, breathing heavy as I sit up. My room is silent save for the sounds of the embers crackling from the fireplace. The flames leave little more than a red glow, but it's enough that I can see my door is still locked.

I frown when I spot my window open, curtains fluttering on a frosted breeze. Snow trickles inside, and I freeze. I don't remember opening it. Maybe I'm dreaming. Just shut the window and go back to bed.

"Leave this place." I hear again, a whisper that seems to echo from every crackle of the dying fire, from every sigh of the curtain in the wind. The window slams shut, the sound so loud the guards outside might hear. The fire goes dark, and I turn slowly as the door creaks open. The faint smell of iron fills my nose, and I know immediately it's magic. The hallway is dark, and the guards standing post are out cold, bodies limp on the ground. Their breaths are short puffs now as if they'd simply fallen asleep.

"Leave." A voice urges in my ear, and I nearly trip over my feet when another breeze thrusts me past the threshold. This is my only chance, my gut tells me.

I listen for sounds- footsteps, a sudden intake of breath- and when I hear nothing, it doesn't matter that maybe this is a dream. I leap into action, grabbing the thickest coat I can find and shoving my feet into boots by my door. I grab the dinner knife I stashed beneath my pillow and tuck it into the thick band of my pants. The door shuts quietly behind me as I gently pad down the hall. Where am I going?

As if in answer, a gust of cold wind again urges me toward the stairwell. It guides me down the same corridor I visited with Moira earlier.

"Faster."

I stop abruptly, watching as hoarfrost inches across the stone in front of the door. It opens, revealing the massive room within. The balcony doors stand wide open. Wind pushes me forward, and I cross the room until I'm standing outside again. The warmth, the sunshine I felt earlier is gone, and instead, snow is falling. Whatever magic created the momentary oasis earlier is now overcome by the elements.

The voice practically shouts now: "Leave this place!"

My feet take me to the edge of the balcony, overlooking the silver storm raging beyond. A russet banner flaps in the wind overhead, but if I look further below it, I can still see the mantles carved into the stone of the castle. A ladder- an escape- if I only reach forward and take it.

If I leave now, I can run. I can hide- I can somehow find a way back to Bayport. I can start with where it all happened. Ask witnesses, anyone who had seen where they'd taken my family.

Go, my gut urges me, but for some reason, my feet remain planted. My family flashes in my memory, crying, screaming as the soldiers force them to their knees. Somehow, I know this isn't all just a coincidence. The perfect opportunity to escape wouldn't just present itself. Someone, something is helping me. The storm presses its frigid hand against my back, and I find myself sitting on the edge of the slick stone balcony. My boots dangle over the side. If I grab hold of the sidewall and climb toward the holes in the granite, I can make it.

"Leave this place," the voice hisses, one last time, the sound lost to the wind. I move toward it.

"It would be rather stupid of you to do that, don't you think?"

When I hear his voice, my grip goes slick. The world falls out from under me, and I scream as I dangle over the edge of the balcony. Only, Ceth's hand grips my own. His mouth is a grin as I swing over the drop. My stomach tumbles over itself, and I grip his arm with both my hands as the wind whips against my face.

"Fuck!" I cry as I desperately hold onto his fist. My shoulder burns, pain lancing through me the longer I flail. One wrong move and I'll be falling to my death. His green eyes glimmer as he lazily holds onto me. I'm at his mercy. He and I both know it.

"I want you to think about how stupid it would have been if I hadn't caught you." His voice is a dark laugh as he looks down at me. Bored, taunting. "How far do you think you would have gotten? Did you think my soldiers wouldn't find you?"

My hands are clammy, slipping as I struggle to hold on. "You bast-"

Ceth's eyes flash, the humor gone from his face. "I want you to say it."

"Say what?!"

"How stupid it was."

"It was stupid, okay??" His grip on me loosens, and I shriek as his palm just barely catches me again. My muscles strain as I yell: "If you're going to kill me, just do it!"

"Kill you?" he looks at me as if he doesn't quite know whether to let me drop or to finally pull me up. "No, Brenna," he says finally. "I think I have other plans for you."

My heart hammers loudly enough that I feel it in my ears as he lifts me. My hands find the railing, and I pull myself over, falling onto the balcony with a smack. My breath is hot, my skin cold. Anger and fear coil in my gut so tightly that I feel my control slipping.

White flashes before my eyes, and I grip the ground beneath my hands as I feel my restraint threatening to spill out of me. My teeth sharpen, bones bracing, and panic fills me all over again. Shift. I'm going to shift. I've never-

His voice knocks me out of it: "Maybe you'll think twice before doing something like that again."

It's unbridled anger that's left as I whip my head toward him. He props himself against the railing, looking down and watching me carefully. His blonde hair is messy and he wears a loose shirt and gray trousers. The steely scent of iron fills the air, and his guards appear behind me.

They haul me to my feet, gripping either of my shoulders and baring me to Ceth. My arm screams in protest. His bored green eyes assess me from head to toe, and he grimaces almost sadly, pitifully. Somehow, it's worse than the looks he's given me before. "I'll deal with you tomorrow," he tells me. The guards shove me towards the doors, but Ceth stops them with a simple command: "Have Ajax take her back."

From the darkness of the library, I see a man step out. The same man who brought me here, who tortured the poor wolf last night: The commander. His gaze is that of steel, no humor, no pity. Nothing other than ice. Magic shackles my limbs into obedience, and I'm forced to watch as he lifts the corner of my shirt and withdraws the blade I'd hidden at my side. He shoves me ahead of him.

Two guards follow closely behind, their breath sticky on the back of my neck. Suddenly, we're back and the door to my room slams shut in my face. The soldiers stand guard outside- and they likely will for every night to come.

I'm stuck here. There is no escape. There's nowhere to run.

The window is still closed, the curtains hanging limp in the window frame. My bed is made, the sheets clean and freshly pressed. I abandon my clothes somewhere near the fireplace and crawl into bed, resting my face against the cool pillows. Snow stops falling beyond the window. I am alone. I will always be alone.