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Chapters (64)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. Pronunciation Guide
  6. Prologue
  7. Part One
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Part Two
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Seventeen
  26. Eighteen
  27. Nineteen
  28. Twenty
  29. Twenty-One
  30. Twenty-Two
  31. Twenty-Three
  32. Part Three
  33. Twenty-Four
  34. Twenty-Five
  35. Twenty-Six
  36. Twenty-Seven
  37. Twenty-Eight
  38. Twenty-Nine
  39. Thirty
  40. Thirty-One
  41. Thirty-Two
  42. Thirty-Three
  43. Thirty-Four
  44. Thirty-Five
  45. Part Four
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. Thirty-Eight
  49. Thirty-Nine
  50. Forty
  51. Forty-One
  52. Forty-Two
  53. Forty-Three
  54. Forty-Four
  55. Forty-Five
  56. Forty-Six
  57. Forty-Seven
  58. Epilogue
  59. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  60. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  61. Acknowledgments
  62. About the Author
  63. Back Cover

“Shh, shh.” Nox pulled her into the tightest embrace she could manage through the bars that separated them. She continued stroking the girl’s hair too fast, with too much built-up intensity as love and the need to comfort overwhelmed her, even if Nox was the one who needed shushing, given the shudders of her tears. These were the throttled, hysterical, gagged sobs of years of separation. Any emotion that had jarred and stunned her upon initially seeing Amaris had broken into countless painful shards, now the powder of a million fragments of broken glass that tinkled around them like the falling snow. She had spent fifteen years at Farleigh protecting and comforting Amaris—dedicating her life to shielding, loving, and looking out for her snowflake. What could she do now that she played the role of the wicked whore on the wrong side of the bars? It should be her locked up, not gentle Amaris.

Nox’s shushes were useless. They were more for herself than for the reever, as Nox’s shoulders shook and her sobs were louder than any other noise in the room. Her snowflake had never seen her tremble or shake as she did now.

“Can you—”

Amaris didn’t have to finish her sentence before Nox’s eyes widened in understanding.

“Goddess, oh goddess yes, turn around, turn around,” she said, each word punctuated with a sob.

Amaris offered Nox her rope-bound hands. Nox immediately began to cut and slice at them using the tiny blade. She broke through one coil, then another. The rope’s tendrils fell away, and with the tangled ropes fell their last tethers to sanity. They clutched each other as if they were about to lose hold on gravity and float from the other. Their arms wrapped through the bars, each gripping at the back of the other. Hair and clothes and skin and bodies gripped and pushed and held with unrelenting intensity. They couldn’t be close enough, couldn’t clutch hard enough.

“Nox, I’m so sorry” was all Amaris said.

“What?” Nox wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her smile a ragged, half-wild thing. “What could you possibly be sorry for? Oh goddess, Amaris…”