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Back Seasons of Chaos Save as PDF
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

“Yeah.” I sit up in my chair and open my email, shoving aside thoughts that have been gnawing on me since the park. “I’m happy for you, Chill. No one deserves it more than you and Poppy.” That’s the truth. And it’s the reason I passed up my chance to become a Winter again—so Chill and Poppy could have this life together.

Lyon’s email appears on my screen when I refresh it. “Did you see this report Lyon sent out a few minutes ago?”

“Reading it now.” Chill’s breathing’s steadied, as if he’s finally sitting down. “What do you make of it?”

“He said they’ve been waking the last of Michael’s Guards. They’re all getting stripped. The ones who refuse will be Culled from the program.”

A low whistle issues through the phone. “Those rogue Seasons who were loyal to Michael might be a little riled up about their friends being ashed. Maybe Lyon’s worried about retaliation.”

“Seems that way. Looks like we’re all on lockdown for a while.”

“So much for your anniversary plans. Is that what you all were arguing about?”

All I manage is a grunt in response.

“Hey, that’s Jarek ringing through.” Chill’s sucking wind again, as if he’s back on the move. “I’ve got to take this. Then Poppy and I need to coordinate my trip home. By now, the girls should be done gossiping about you. Maybe you should go talk to Fleur.”

“Thanks, I will,” I tell him. “Have a safe trip home, and give Poppy a hug for me.”

Chill’s first to disconnect. I leave the phone pressed to my ear, listening to the silence on the other end of the line.

7

Of a Love or a Season

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FLEUR

Jack steps out from under the veranda, his hands in his pockets, his bare feet pausing in the grass at the edge of the patio. I hardly hear Poppy’s goodbye. My gaze is fixed on the red slash on Jack’s neck as I tug the buds from my ears and rest them on my phone. He approaches slowly, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and his dark brows pulled down. The faint scent of blood reaches me before he does, and he glances up as my eyes dip to the raw wound.

“It’s fine,” he says, answering the question he must read on my face as I drag my feet from the pool. He sinks down beside me before I can stand, close but not touching. “How’s Poppy?”

I ease my legs back into the water, careful not to splash. Afraid of disrupting the fragile surface tension between us. “She’s good.”