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The snow sparkled in the sunlight, glimmering ice white with a touch of blue when the sun hit it just right. Nothing moved over the snow, most animals sleeping through the winter. I strained closer to the ledge, sending my senses out to see if anything rustled in the brush.

Only the wind greeted me. I longed for its touch against my skin, frigid as it may be. Something to offer a gentle touch, a brush of nature against my abused and neglected body. I was just about to pull away when a crunch in the snow made my eyes fly open.

I went still as a cobra about to strike, scanning the horizon for the source. Nothing happened for the first several seconds until a white head poked up from the snow.

A surprised laugh croaked from my throat. An arctic fox stared straight at me, its white head poking above one of the drifts. The small creature was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Ember,” I croaked, reaching up to touch the grimy window. I’d tried my best not to think of the fox I’d left behind. He’d become my constant companion over the last few months. I knew Cernunnos would care for him, even as I knew Ember could take care of himself, but the ache in my chest at the thought of him feeling abandoned burned inside me.

My muscles strained as I lifted myself higher. “Find Ember,” I cried, even knowing the fox couldn’t understand me. One final desperate gamble for a rescue. “Or Cernunnos.” The name brought tears burning to the surface of my eyes.

Light winked over the pure white coat of the fox as he watched me, a keen intelligence gleaming in his eyes.

A moment later, he ducked underneath the snow and disappeared.

Bereft, I released my grip from the ledge and sank down onto the bed. A bitter laugh escaped me.

Not every fox was like Ember. I’d just begged a random creature to help save me. And that intelligence I thought I’d seen in its eyes?

I snorted. Surely my imagination.

Wallowing would get me nowhere. I drew in a ragged breath and uncurled myself from the bed. Mom and Liaza were bound to return soon. If they spotted the bed an inch out of place, there’d be hell to pay.

My limbs shook as I pushed the frame, metal screeching against the stone. Cold sweat trickled down my back, effort making every muscle in my body tremble.

I was wasting away in here. My thin frame prior to my imprisonment was doing me no favors. I’d gained some weight back while I was with Cernunnos, but I was still underweight, all of the progress gone within a couple weeks of Mom’s special treatment.

If I ever got out of here, I’d stop neglecting myself. I’d take the blood and nourishment I needed and not feel bad about it. There had to be a way to take care of myself without harming anyone else.

Cernunnos’s handsome, otherworldly face swam in my vision. He cared about me in his own messed-up way, and he never promised me he’d be anything other than what he was. He was true to his word, and the weirdness between us before I’d disappeared seemed like nothing now.

Ethan hadn’t cared enough about me to try, and Cernunnos had known what I needed and offered to help me when he didn’t have to.

Ethan was merely a shifter Lord. Cernunnos was a god. For him to help me like he had was no small thing.

And I’d thrown it away, hadn’t I?

The bed screeched back into place, and I dropped to my knees, out of breath, and started scrubbing at the scratches on the floor with my fingers. I had no water to help wash them away. To my eyes, they were glaringly noticeable, the trail of scratches leading straight to the window.

Minka would know what I’d done if she saw these, and I’d pay for it.

Just like I paid for being alive.

Find me, I whispered into the ether one more time. A final prayer for help before I destroyed myself to save my life or threw it all away for a permanent kind of darkness—the decision still unmade.

Chapter

Six

Somewhere in the remote frozen tundra, a small white fox frolicked in the snow. A name beat inside its head, a thunderous reminder of what he needed to do. No. Who he needed to find.

Cernunnos. God of the small things. His god.

Cernunnos.

Something vibrated under the snow. The arctic fox went still, its ears perking. He tried to ignore the name booming inside his brain because food was about to show itself.

Cernunnos. Cernunnos.