Crescent (Book 1)

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I feel the cold so deep it makes my bones ache. With nearly a week until the solstice, the coldest storm I've experienced in years is rolling in. Dark clouds loom over the northern mountain range, sweeping over the valley in a wave of inky clouds. Not only has Saren pushed off training, but I stay close to the fire most nights, taking to the study rather than the library. Gabriel's right about one thing: After our last conversation, I don't have the nerve to face him. It's easier to focus on the gala, on the future.

Ceth's question sticks with me: "What will you do?"

I've spent months figuring out just how to get by. I haven't allowed myself to consider what I'll do when I actually get my family back... When I wrap my arms around Rosie, when I see mom's face and hear my father's voice. Nothing else will matter. I'll be free.

My teeth chatter loudly as I hang the last decoration across the mantle of one of the fireplaces in the grand hall. White crystals fall from the overmantel like icicles, and firelight twinkles between the thin slivers. I've spent most of the day decorating and barking out orders in preparation for the rehearsal tonight. Moira and I have broken our backs planning every part of the gala to perfection. The kitchens are teeming with new staff to prepare for the week-long feasting and partying, but the majority of my planning has already been put into place.

All that's left is to direct the ambassadors later tonight. Everyone, everything, has a place, and after guiding everyone through the agenda, we'll meet in the library for our last night before the gala. There's still a bit of time before Ceth and the ambassadors come down, and Moira is in Cold's Summit arranging the rest of the delivery. I'm keenly aware of the fact that someone's watching me, and when I ease down the ladder, I'm not surprised when I find Nic- grinning and green-eyed just like his father.

"I like what you've done with the place," his voice is teasing. "Very on-theme with the storm, don't you think Ajax?"

Despite Ajax's towering frame, he lingers just out of sight behind Nic. He remains silent, legs shoulder-width apart and arms crossed behind his back, but his replying scowl is clear enough: He doesn't give a shit about the party decor.

I motion toward Nic's training leathers, though the bottom of his cloak is covered in snow. "Did you get lost on your way back from school?" I coo as I dig into another crate and grab the last of my baubles to arrange.

Nic snickers, shaking his head as he watches me climb the ladder again. "Come on, Brenna. You know I like it when you condescend to me."

I roll my eyes at the flirty note to his voice, looking over my shoulder to glare at him. "You would think it would've deterred you by now."

"Not in the slightest," he says, and I roll my eyes again.

"Are you joining us for dinner tonight, Dominic?"

Nic seems amused at my use of his full name, but he says nothing of it as I lug a crate off the table and into a neat pile near the fireplace. His eyes watch me as I do it, bright and vibrant green. "Maybe I should."

"Be a doll and carry these to the closet for me then, won't you?" I say over my shoulder as I stroll toward the main entrance toward the other mountain of crates. I cast a look at the surrounding soldiers, hoping my eyes bite into them. "Would it kill you to lend us a hand, Ajax?"

Nic has already piled some boxes over his shoulders, and I smile when I hear Ajax gather the last of them behind us. He can't exactly deny my request now that it's so close to dinner and the others will be joining us. Voices sound from the stairwell, and when Ceth and the others weave their way toward us, I slip into my facade easily. A few envoys sit at the table that's already garnished with food, ales, and wine. Ceth extends an arm toward me, motioning for me to stand beside him at the head of the table.