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Back Seasons of Chaos
Chapters (70)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. About the Author
  68. Books by Elle Cosimano
  69. Back Ad
  70. About the Publisher

“I hold the power. Apparently, you’ve both forgotten.” Doug’s cold, rasping voice comes from somewhere behind us. The Autumn goes still, his grip firm as I cough. “Let the Spring go, and maybe I’ll overlook it.”

The Autumn draws in a breath, scenting the air. “Who the hell are you?” he snaps over his shoulder.

“I’m your new Chronos.”

“What if I don’t believe you?”

“Then I strongly suggest you turn around.”

The Autumn jerks me upright and swings me around. I blink away smoke and see Doug standing in the mouth of the alley, his hands jammed into his pockets and his wet hair dripping in his eye. The facets catch the flames, reflecting them back at us.

The Autumn drops me where I stand, sidestepping away from me. “I’m sorry, Chronos. I didn’t realize. Take her. She’s—”

I reach for the Autumn, grabbing him by the throat and maneuvering him between me and Doug. The second my bare hands make contact with his neck, his power surges through me, seeking balance with mine.

“Stay away!” I warn Doug as I drag the Autumn backward, stalling for time, starved for strength. The power I took from Doug in the park is already exhausted after fighting and running in the cold. “You stay away from me.”

Doug saunters closer, his hands shuffling in his pockets, until he’s standing right in front of us.

“If you’re going to barter with a life, Fleur, you’d better be sure that life is worth something.” The Autumn gasps as Doug plunges a knife into his gut. His body sags, a sudden dead weight in my arms as the prickling pulse of his power fades.

The Autumn drops to the pavement. Doug watches me through the rising sparks of the dying Season’s magic, their glow reflected in the hard surface of his eye. When the last spark is in the wind, all that remains is a pile of ash.

The fire in the barrel crackles in the silence.

“I won’t teach you,” I say, taking a step back from him. “Kill me if you want. I’m not going back with you.”

His jaw rocks back and forth as if he’s actually considering it. After a moment, he tosses me his phone. I catch it against my chest, the screen coming to life when it falls into my wet hands. A video plays. The image is grainy, a five-second loop of monochromatic snow. But there’s no mistaking who I’m seeing, or where they are.