Crescent (Book 1)

+ 13 +

Weeks float by like a breeze. On the morning Ceth returns, I wake to a note at my bedside. Breakfast is being served in the grand hall. I dress and find that servants have already gathered.

Some of them replace old dripping candles from their sconces with new waxy ones. The once barren windows are being decorated with black curtains that pool at the floor. The material is dripping in midnight colored gems, and matching jewels decorate the hall-length table that was previously in the center of the room. It's been moved aside, and settings for food are being delicately laid out across it.

It's almost time.

Even more servants carry dark bouquets of honey-scented flowers throughout the room to outline the area where the dancing will take place. Ceth will make his grand entrance at the top of the stairs. As Moira had shown me, it will also be where the cake is cut. While I'm standing and admiring everything, I see Ceth coming down the stairs. It's the first time I've seen him since our deal was struck.

He's traded his signature color black for a casual gray tunic and slacks. His hair is still styled back and that saccharin smile is ever-present. "Good morning," he coos, coming to a stop. Heat radiates from him in overwhelming waves, and I nod my response at him. Servants still decorate the room like bees buzzing from one flower, one task, to the next. "There's something I'd like to do before the party," he tells me suddenly.

His eyes dart towards the front doors and instantly know that it means going into the woods again. I frown. He's only just gotten back- I feel myself twitch. "Why?"

He smiles and holds out his arm to come. "Don't worry. I'll keep my clothes on this time." I take one look at him and have to refrain from scoffing at him. I know what he wants without him having to say it.

My voice is hard. "I won't shift."

His fist clenches slowly and drops to his side. "That's not exactly playing by my rules, Brenna. Remember?" I recall the deal and the exact words he'd said to me. "Play by my rules..." In other words, I have no choice. Fear curls low in my belly and helplessness tugs at my chest.

As if he sees the defeat clear on my face, he holds out his hand again. I refuse to take it. Instead, I walk right past him, stopping and turning on my heel at the doors. "Unlike you, I will be needing a change of clothes." My voice reeks of sarcasm. "And a coat."

With the snap of his fingers, clean clothes appear- a thick wool coat too. I want to wipe the grin clean off his face. "I'm sure you'll find that like most purebloods, you won't need the coat."

I sneer. The doors open, and I snatch the clothes from him as I brace myself against the cold. It doesn't feel quite as frigid as the last time we went out. The snow relents to a slow dance as it makes its way to the ground. I know where to go. An instinct inside me remembers the path. I trudge through the shin-deep snow until we reach the same hidden clearing as before. The twisted birch trees hang over us with bent spines. I hold my breath. In my gut, I feel like we're being watched. Not by Ceth's guards.

I don't know what I'm expecting when we come upon it, but when we reach the same spot as before, I'm surprised that there's no blood. No bodies, no gore. No sign of anyone around. I turn to him, throwing up my arms in defeat. "Is there a method to your madness?"

All humor is gone from his face, instead replaced with a look that says he won't repeat himself. "Shift," he orders.

"I don't know how."

"It's rather easy," he explains, casually strolling toward me. He stops less than a breath away, green eyes watching me carefully. I blink, and he grabs hold of my nape, flipping me so that my back is pinned against him. His hands are tight around my throat. "Shift," he repeats, and some terrified part of me wants to bow to his command.

My lungs feel tight, my vision going blurry. "I won't-" His hands tighten so hard that my neck feels like it might break. He could easily snap it- it would be like breaking a twig to him. I feel it then. My bones brace against my flesh, and nausea floods me as I sink to my knees. My consciousness slips, just slightly. His hands are still shackles on my neck. My muscles cramp, my throat tight and my lungs burning. Pain preys on me as I stare at him standing over me. "Is this how it's going to be?" my breath comes out in frantic pants. My lungs desperately cling to air as he leans toward me.

His fingers tip my chin upwards. "I'm sorry it has to be like this..." he swipes his thumb down my cheek, and my skin crawls at the touch. A whimper escapes me, and my spine feels like it's teetering on the brink of splintering. "You're the lady of Vervale now. You have to complete the cycle."

I want to hurt him, to spit in his face, but my consciousness fades more and more by the second. The bones in my hands snap suddenly. I scream, claws driving through my fingertips. My teeth sharpen, my gums bloodied and mangled as my neck snaps backward. I feel burning hot and then ice cold in a matter of seconds. Sweat drips down my face, and my vision goes white. My body turns itself inside out, and through the haze, his voice is like honey:

"It will all be over soon," he coos and when I lunge at him, he steps just out of reach. Ceth turns, and the scent of iron fills the air, telling me he's already gone.

Minutes feel like hours. Panic is heavy in my veins, and I'm left waiting for the moment I finally lose control. Pain laces itself into every intake of air, every millimeter of movement. My muscles expand and my bones splinter. My clothes rip at the seams. The last thing I see before my mind goes blank is the silhouette of someone watching me from the trees... and then my mind fractures into two.