Crescent (Book 1)

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I don't remember stumbling into the library. I only briefly recall looking for Rhiannon, or Thayer, for Gabriel among the crowd, but everybody's face blurred together. For hours, I found no comfort among the party. I remember tripping up the stairwell on the way to my room, to safety, and somehow, I managed to find myself here.

But I find no comfort here either. I clamber into a table, knocking over a thick stack of books. My stomach flips when I bend over to pick them up. "I waited for you," Ceth muses from behind. I jump when he comes closer, eying the lilac dress that still clings to me. On any other night, Ceth wouldn't care. He would've slept soundly, drunkenly, snoring softly. Even dazed and confused, I know something has changed in him. Something long dormant was taken from me... and it awakened something in him.

He rakes a hand through his hair, pulling it loose from the slicked-back look it was in before. My throat feels dry with the need to justify myself. "I'm reading."

His eyes fall to the sheer fabric covering my chest, ignoring my words. "It's one of your last nights here, you know. We should celebrate."

He rounds the table toward me. I don't bother hiding my retreat. His grin widens when he sees that I'm shaking like a leaf. "I think- I think you had too much to drink," I attempt to laugh, but he only tisks as he closed the distance between us. He brushes a hand down my shoulder, and I slither away from the touch which he easily uses to trap me against the table.

"Us." His fingers grip the strap of my dress, tugging. "Together."

"Ceth-" the tulle falls down my arm and I cover myself just as he pushes me back onto the table. "Stop it. I don't want-"

"I thought we discussed how I feel about what you want," he mocks, but his eyes only watch as my nipples pique in the cold. His smile is savage as he steps between my legs. I'm too weak to stop it.

"STOP-" He fists my dress, and somehow his pants are below his hips and he grinds himself against me. I can smell the fury rolling off of him. Then the lust and the alcohol, so rarely a wise pairing. Panic barrels through me. His clammy grip doesn't relent, and though I push and struggle, I know I can't stop what's about to happen. "Please!" I gasp and Ceth's hand finds a way between my legs, probing in a way that brings tears to my eyes.

A book clangs to the ground behind us, and Ceth jolts back. He shoves himself back in his pants as he turns. Someone bends down to pick up a stack of books that fell. I take the chance to wipe the tears, pulling my dress back up... I beg to whatever gods there are that whoever is there is enough of a distraction to pull Ceth away.

"Thayer??" Ceth called.

I leap from the table when Thayer's eyes glance between us. He motions toward the stack of books, but I'm sure he can see my tears when he takes another step toward us. "I didn't think anyone else would be here so late... I was just looking for that book you told me about during one of our meetings."

Ceth angrily walks forward, plucking a book from the shelf by Thayer's head and slapping it against his chest. "Glad I could help," he spits but straightens himself with only a furtive glance my way. "I'll be in bed."

Mercifully, he disappears and the doors echo closed behind him. I'm still weeping, I realize as Thayer slowly steps forward, shrugging out of his jacket. My dress is torn at the shoulder, and he wraps the jacket around me, pulling it closed. He offers his hand with every intention of leaving should I ask, but I take it, grateful for the warmth I find as he squeezes. He shows no pity, no sign or remorse or sadness, but somehow, it's exactly what I need. He only lifts a brow in silent question: Are you okay?

I nod, grateful when he squeezes my hand again. "Would you like to walk with me for a moment?" I nod my reply, and we pace the room, strolling slowly enough for me to regain control of my breathing. The book Ceth gave him remains in his hand though I doubt he'll ever read it. He only stayed because...

My mind foolishly shoots to Gabriel. "You can't tell any- anyone," I choke.

His eyes twinkle kindly, and I wonder if Gabriel is the first that comes to his mind too. "You have my word, m'lady. My word is my life." Like a true ambassador. He offers me a kerchief and I furiously wipe my tears with it as he squeezes my hand again. "I imagine you're rather good with blades?"

I remember the blade at my stomach, reaching for it but nearly forgetting Ceth had taken it during the ceremony. If I had it- "I'm- I'm good," I answer, sniffling. He nods.

"It's not tradition to have blades where I am from, but..." he reaches beneath the collar of his tunic and reveals a silver token. Eight intersecting lines form two squares with corners that don't align. "It's a brigid cross. A token of life. In some cultures, you must carry them. Always." He fidgets with the trinket, carefully unclasping it and setting it in my palm. "I used to feel naked without mine, and if I may... You seem to feel the same without your blades."

Thayer presses the middle of the pendant into my hand. It flips open, instantly transforming. A small blade the size of my palm now lays there. He holds a finger to his lips, pressing the blade's center again. The Brigid cross returns. A gift, I realize, pocketing it when he nods in confirmation.

"Blades have... always made sense to me," I whisper. He smiles, and I look at him, ever so grateful but unable to express it. Instead, I fiddle with the cross in my pocket again. There are only a few reasons he might carry a Brigid cross. "Do you celebrate the gods in Innonia?" A delicate question.

He shakes his head, no. "Not like this." The galas, he means. "We do not believe in blood ceremonies."

I want him to tell me more. I could listen to him tell stories all night. But the remnants of what just happened finally settle, and exhaustion hits me. "One more night," I whisper.

"A lot of things can change in two days." He doesn't even know how much. In two days, my family and I will be free.

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Ceth is asleep when I finally drag myself to bed.