The Crimson Snow (A Realm of Chaos and Void #1)

Chapter 14

The Dancing Fox

Gold starlight wove through her hair,

Her eyes a blend of roses and rubies,

Her dress flowed like a dream,

One I could neither grasp nor claim.

Retrieved from Leander Ashcroft’s journal.

Seraphine Ashcroft

The imposing Wraithwood household was large and opulent, its halls a labyrinth of gold and mirrors that multiplied the glittering lights and the laughter echoing through the grand spaces.

“This better be over soon,”

Seraphine muttered, lowering her head and moving between the townsfolk.

As she stepped farther into the castle, the atmosphere was lively, perhaps overly so, with guests indulging in the abundant feast before them. Tables overflowed with dishes of every kind, and beverages of all hues sparkled in crystal glassware.

Seraphine remembered her instructions. No food, no drinks, and accept every dance invitation. It seemed unlikely that anyone would notice her hidden in the corner, let alone ask her to dance, especially since many guests appeared inebriated.

What a relief. Seraphine was saving a dance for one in particular and had no interest in being touched by anyone else. Nor have a conversation. Knowing her circumstances, she might end up kicking or punching some of the folk.

“Do not think about it,”

she said, shutting her thoughts.

She wandered through the crowd and spotted Thalassa from afar. Seraphine quickly ducked under a table laden with food to avoid being seen. She then caught sight of her sister conversing somberly with some townsfolk. They seemed apologetic. Both Thalassa and Aeliana were wearing black dresses.

At least there was a reminder here that this ball was nothing more than a masquerade for murderers and hypocrites.

She wanted to talk with her sister, but it would be pointless. Seraphine knew that after tonight, she would not hold any tender feelings toward her. That’s for the best. Seraphine needed to disappear so Aeliana and even Thalassa could move on and live in peace.

Yet, Seraphine was mesmerized. The place buzzed with activity. Servers darted about, offering sweet wine and exquisite delicacies. The music filling the air was enchanting, igniting Seraphine’s desire to dance and lose herself in the rhythm as if it were her last chance to experience such passion and joy.

Maybe something here was indeed enchanted. What a shame it has to be in this household. The association with Evren Wraithwood did not help the cause. She bet her sister would have loved to dance with him.

Most of the ladies here, actually.

Thalassa and Aeliana moved to the other corner with other people. Seraphine took that as her cue to step away from the shelter.

Someone started to play the violin. The girl tried to find the source, but somehow, she couldn’t see anything beyond drunk and way too giddy town folk. The songs played previously carried a tone of mischief and festive vibes, but this one reached her soul.

I’ve heard that song before.

Seraphine could not remember where exactly.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned her Weeping Forest, reliving moments of joy and freedom when she ran across the snow and trees—from conversations veiled in mystery with Max and childhood games of hide and seek with Leander and her sister, and jests thrown at the sentinel tree.

“May I have this dance?”

a deep, familiar voice asked, interrupting her reverie. Seraphine opened her eyes to see Evren Wraithwood standing before her.

This was why the Grim Wanderer said it was not a simple task. Then again, where is he? Didn’t he promise me a dance?

Evren stood there waiting for her to take his hand. The last she remembered of him was the look of horror as he realized the tragedy that had unfolded with her father. It did seem honest, but she could not help but dislike him. He was the image of what human cruelty was—power, arrogance, and yet he was absolutely beautiful. Mysterious, like winter itself.

Despite her deep-seated contempt for him, she had vowed to accept any dance, so she regally placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the main dance hall. There, it was just the two of them. She heard people whispering and gasping. Still, she paid them no mind. Tonight was all about her, and if this was her quest, so be it.

With that in mind, Seraphine pretended she was just in her forest, running toward the veil, jumping and moving like a snowflake from the cold and wintery sky, each step moving delicately with the violin strings.

To her surprise, Evren, who was silent, seemed to anticipate her every move, mirroring her steps as if they were both dancing through a snow-covered landscape. Maybe she was not a bad dancer after all.

Or he was very skilled.

Or we are both really bad.

The music was slowing, the melody still beautiful but somehow mournful. Seraphine moved her head up, daring to gaze into Evren’s eyes—gray and blue with specks of white, hauntingly beautiful like a snowstorm. Yet, she couldn’t deny something was tugging at her heart. There was a certain familiarity in Evren and the way they were dancing.

Maybe in another life, they could have been friends.

What a silly thought, she thought.

Then, he lightly pulled her closer, tugging her by the waist. His touch was warm, almost too warm, and she felt a strange heat spreading through her again, making her pulse quicken. The realization that comfort could be found in his embrace confused her. The few encounters with him had led to disaster, but her body was responding to his nearness in ways she couldn’t control.

“Why dance with me?”

Curiosity filled her voice.

He arched a very well-defined dark brow at her. “Is there a reason why I should not dance with a beautiful lady?”

he countered, seriousness in his voice.

Feeling quite daring today, Seraphine rested her hand on his chest and embraced the conversation. “Well, based on the fact that you completely avoided inviting my family to your balls till this day, I guess an undistinguished lady like me could question your sudden interest.”

To her surprise, his lips twitched, hiding a smile. “You are very mouthy, aren’t you, Seraphine Ashcroft?”

he said while looking her in the eyes, confirming that he had known who he was dancing with from the start.

Evren stared at her as though she were a riddle to be solved. “And I shall apologize about all that and more. I wanted to.”

She had seen liars and tricksters, and it was easy for her to tell if one was being honest. He was.

What a contradiction of a man—apologetic but egocentric, handsome but somehow wicked, serious and quite daring.

Seraphine had to admit she kind of liked that, and she hated herself for it.

“About what? For making me look like the joke of the town with Max, or when you ignited that tale about me being a killer, which—”

She could not finish the phrase. Remembering her father would bring tears, and she needed to be a veil herself tonight.

“For everything.”

Evren looked at her, and while it seemed impossible, she believed him. There was just something about his eyes and voice that seemed real. “It is no excuse, but I wish things were different.”

“How come?”

He pulled her closer, slowly using one hand and grabbing hers, lifting it and spinning her around in a way one would feel like a princess. His eyes never left hers.

“If I tell you, you may lose interest in knowing what could have been.”

His breath mingled with hers just as his eyes dropped lower. “And what will be.”

“What... will be?”

There was no future here, but something about the conversation sparked her interest.

“I won’t spoil that either, Seraphine. The future is unpredictable. And you know what the present is?”

His voice turned darker. A chill went through her as she marveled at his eloquence, his voice caressing her ears like dark, enchanted melodies.

She thought about not responding, but she fell into the trap of his eyes and raven hair. Damn it. “What is?”

Evren moved her head so it rested on his shoulder, and she sensed a brief smile from him. “A dance.”

As if in a trance, they kept dancing. It was comforting and felt natural, and for a moment, Seraphine lost herself in the rhythm, in the warmth of Evren’s arms, in the music, in the splendid castle.

Closing her eyes, she imagined a normal life full of dances and friends. An ordinary life.

She hadn’t drunk anything, but she felt dizzy, as if her feet were in the clouds and her mind shattered into stars. Evren was poisonous like dark wine—just a dance, and she barely could keep it together. The feeling of his hand resting on her waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of her dress, his cheek on hers, she wished to pull away, but she kept leaning closer and closer, like a moth to a flame.

Although absorbed in this thought, Seraphine opened her eyes and noticed her sister beside a peculiar figure.

Shocked, she closed and opened her eyes again.

Impossible.

Aeliana was accepting an odd drink from a boggart, which seemed familiar.

What is happening?

Seraphine stopped dancing.

She could feel Evren looking at her and still holding her, but this time, she pushed that aside. For the first time, she really looked at the hall.

The beautiful ball was melting into something akin to terror in front of her eyes.

Seraphine looked at the mirrors that lined the hall. The reflections did not just show inebriated guests but creatures among them, sinister beings mingling undetected. Townsfolk were too drunk to notice them. There were many Otherworld creatures, many unknown to her. Perhaps they are trapped in the human realm like the Grim Wanderer.

“You surprised me,”

Evren said, pulling her out of her thoughts and the cruel realization that this ball was nothing like it seemed.

Whatever Evren was saying made no sense. He was probably enchanted too. Was this his plan? Seraphine should have known better than to think there was no twist.

Seraphine focused on the mirrors showing the horrendous creatures seemingly having fun, luring over drunk people and whispering things to ladies whose eyes started to look vacant.

Is my sister aware of what is around her? She tried to find Aeliana again. Quest or not, she would not leave her sister in the monsters’ grasp.

“I see you are very observant. But nothing to worry your pretty head about. They cannot see them. The creatures here have been glamoured to look human, and most humans cannot see them regardless,”

the owner of the hand on her waist said, whispering in a way that seemed like he was enjoying himself.

Seraphine looked at Evren, alarms ringing in her head, needles of fear crawling along her spine. “How do you know that?”

Evren smiled, and then the mirrors around the hall cracked. The gold that painted the walls began to darken with deep scarlet hues. Seraphine could see the creatures in the cracked mirrors smiling at her.

The violin stopped, and Evren’s laughter rang out, unsettlingly wild. She tried to pull away from his embrace, but he was strong.

She was trapped.

As Seraphine turned her head to look at Evren, in his mirth, she saw it clearly—dimples.

Not any dimples, but ones she had come to dread, to anticipate, to want and run forward to embrace.

It made sense now, the familiarity, why the Grim Wanderer was hooded and seemed to know her, why he veiled his voice. Why Evren barely smiled when he saw her, the worry in Evren’s eyes, and true concern for her when her father died.

It had all been a lie.

Evren Wraithwood is the Grim Wanderer.

Evren Wraithwood was indeed a trickster, and now he was laughing, gripping her hand tightly. Fear and betrayal drowned Seraphine’s heart. “Well, Seraphine, my crimson-eyed creature. You’ve fulfilled most parts of the deal—you danced, you avoided the devilish food, and it’s almost midnight. There’s just one thing left.”

“How is this possible?”

she asked, trying to puzzle everything out.

He ignored her. Just like before, he raised his hand, and the world froze for a moment, static in time. People lay drunk on the floor, a cup of wine spilled with its drops suspended in the air like pendants. “And you saved a dance for me. What an honor! Ah, wasn’t this such a pleasant dance? Did you enjoy dancing with me? The real me? Or were you expecting a hooded coward?”

The white-furred cloak appeared, enveloping him again. This time, Evren did not use the hood to cover his face. There was no reason to hide his identity.

If Evren is the Grim Wanderer, how long has he been playing with me? What’s the purpose of it?

She felt the air coming short, barely filling her lungs.

Seraphine knew that this deal would be the end of her. Why plot so much to give me what I wanted? No, the girl knew she had sealed her fate in the grasp of something worse than a hunter. Than a wolf.

“You are a deceiver,”

she sneered, her voice trembling with disbelief. “You were there all along—with Mr. Vale, with Max. You were at my father’s…”

That seemed to trigger something in Evren. His eyes turned black, the sparkle dimming. “Yes, I was,”

he said. “But you should know something, Crimson Eyes. This, all this, is part of something bigger. It needed to be done.”

How am I supposed to merge these two? It seemed like this was his real personality, not Evren nor the Grim Wanderer. Something else. Lost.

No, fake. What Seraphine was seeing here was the truth. Whatever she felt for her friend and for Evren, whatever she thought they were, it was all a ruse.

Evren took her face in his grasp and looked her in the eyes. She trembled with fear and sadness. Yet, she could not look away. “Yes,”

he hissed, his eyes clearing. A trail down her cheek marked where a tear had unexpectedly descended.

“I intentionally planned some things, little steps that I knew you would take. All so you could reach this breaking point. But what we discussed and shared? What I said… It is real. All of it, Crimson Eyes. Nothing can change that.”

At that, Seraphine pulled away from him, not wanting to see his eyes or yearn for his embrace or comfort. She was not weak, not naive enough to fall for this again.

Not now.

Not ever.

She lifted her gaze, and this time, there was no doubt in her voice, in her heart soon to be gone, in her mind soon to be voided. “This changes everything. The past is written on stone, and the future is volatile, but just like the moon, I know it will be there tomorrow. Just like my words. Today, tomorrow, and the day afterward, I will never forgive you.”

“That is acceptable. I expect nothing less than that.”

“I am not finished,”

she snapped at him, growling even. “I will never forgive you, and I promise to haunt you and destroy you. That, I can assure you. And that seems like a fair future for both of us.”

Evren tried to move closer, the mirrors showing a reflection of him, and her eyes hurt because she couldn’t bear more tears or look at him. It was a reminder of how foolish hope could be. “I guess it is a deal then. Until my undoing breaks us apart, it seems,”

he joked, but it felt empty.

Then, closing the distance, unafraid, she held his broad arms in her grasp, her nails digging into his skin. “Tell me, was it all necessary? Killing my father was part of this all? Because if I am connecting the dots, then you are the one who orchestrated his death,”

she hissed, his white fur no longer white but stained with the blood from her strong grip and sharp nails.

There was no pain, nothing in his eyes. “No, that was something I did not plan, but I still triggered it, so I won’t lie to you and tell you that it wasn’t partially because of me. I will, and I mean this. I will regret that for the rest of my life. But that was not supposed to happen,”

he confessed, his voice carrying a weight that seemed almost genuine. “But listen carefully, or you may end up with even more regrets.”

His voice was commanding this time.

How have I not recognized that distinctive tone, that presence before?

“See your sister over there? She was given a special beverage from the Shadowmarket,”

he revealed in her ear.

Shivers traversed her body.

“What have you done?”

Her eyes rushed and found Aeliana, little drops of sparkling substance on her lips.

“She will die in about... twenty minutes. Part of the deal was to give me something of value,”

he declared coldly.

Seraphine crumbled to the floor, her crimson dress shining, her eyes similar to the golden and dripping walls of crimson. She looked like one of the paintings in her magic library.

“I gave you the necklace! That was possession enough! This isn’t fair, you liar!”

she screamed and lunged at his legs, trying to drag him down with her, but he was stronger, his eyes darkening again.

“I would advise against such actions, Crimson Eyes. I do love that violent nature of yours, but the clock is ticking, and I do not want to play this game any longer.”

What is that supposed to mean?

Moving to the wall, Evren saw the broken mirrors showcasing every perfect angle of his face. A smile appeared, as sweet as rotten apples or raw fish. “I said I needed something of value, but I never agreed to accept the necklace as part of the deal. But, I will cherish it forever.”

“You son of a—”

“No, no, let me finish!”

He moved his other hand, and Seraphine’s mouth closed.

“I chose something else for you! I am always that thoughtful! A life for a frozen heart seems fair,”

he stated with chilling calm.

The apologetic Evren was gone, and the friend she met in the forest had vanished too. With a quick movement of his hand, everything and everyone started to move again. Most humans were drunk, and all creatures were looking at them. Waiting for him.

Seraphine stumbled back. Who is this creature to hold such power? Her mind reeled from the horrifying prospect of losing not just her father but now her sister as well, and she was terrified of who she had in front of her. She tried to speak, but he was holding her mouth shut.

Evren noticed her trying to signal her sister, tears streaming down her face. “My apologies, you can talk now, but fast. There is barely time for you both.”

One day, there will be no time for you. That, I am sure.

“Please, don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything. You can break the deal! I will do as you please without it,”

she pleaded desperately. She should have known better. Dorah had told her never to trust a soul from the Otherworld. How fragile I am. The first sign of affection from someone was enough to deceive her.

He quipped, looking around and pretending he cared. “I cannot undo it. You completed the quest, and you know the rules.”

Evren crouched and looked eye to eye with her. “But I can offer a new deal that will spare your sister. I can give her the antidote, and you will retain your frozen heart deal.”

“What’s the catch?”

she snarled. There was no escape. Everything happened because she was too scared to feel. Now, everyone else would pay for the consequences of her immaturity.

“I’ll administer the antidote, and she will live. But you...”

Evren curled his lips into a sinister smile. “You, my dear crimson-eyed creature, must make a blood oath to me.”

Seraphine could barely hold it together. She would accept anything at this point.

He continued. “You will agree to accompany me on a quest, and during this time, you must not attempt to harm me in any deadly possible way. Your life will be linked to mine for the duration of the quest.”

“And after that?”

Venom came from her words. Her eyes were bright and deadly.

“If we both survive, you’ll have your freedom and can do as you please. I will grant you any wish, asking nothing in return, even if your wish is for my demise,”

Evren promised. “No loops, no tricks. A fair deal. You get your frozen heart, your sister’s safety, and, in the future, freedom. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

Exhausted and cornered, Seraphine pondered if the mystical roses and creatures she’d encountered had been warnings about him all along. The wolf, the one covered in winter and snowflakes on his eyes. Evren knew he had her.

She would not lose Aeliana, even if this meant losing herself. “Deal.”

Evren’s laughter filled the air once more. “Ah, I do love a good deal, especially when it favors me.”

Then, he winked at her and pulled her up.

He led her toward Aeliana, who was both laughing and crying, her eyes nearly black from the poison. The dance had been probably a distraction. Aeliana seemed to be in a daze. Whatever they had given her, it was drowning her from the inside out, drops of black blood running from her ears and mouth. Please, just save her. Please, Brannon. Nemera, help me.

Unexpectedly, the creatures, small fairies and horrible terrors and nightmares from the Otherworld moved away while Evren took a glass with a clear, almost like water substance and held it to her sister’s lips. Seraphine wanted to push him away from her, but for some reason, she felt weak and out of her body.

For a moment, she thought he had lied again, but then Aeliana stopped laughing, and her lips started to gain color again. Her sister’s eyes slowly shut, but she was breathing. No dark blood coming from any part of her face. Seraphine looked at Evren, questioning if he truly did something to help her sister.

Evren put the glass in her hand. It contained water.

“How?”

Looking at her, mischief gleamed in his eyes. “I gave your sister a bit of beithir venom. Actually, your friend Dorah was kind enough to lend that to me. You were there,”

he said, looking around and signaling for some small creature to go away. “This venom is deadly, but curiously, just a few drops of water neutralize it! The magic of the Otherworld, the cures are sometimes quite fun, never obvious but always tricky,”

he revealed mockingly. “And the best part? I did accept your necklace and would have saved your sister anyway. I am not a monster.”

No, you are not. You are a breathing nightmare.

Seraphine fell to the floor once more. This time, she moved toward her sister. Her eyes were shut, her hair was all over the place, and a maze of chaos surrounded her.

“You were so easily tricked, Crimson Eyes. Despite your knowledge of the Shadowmarket and the Otherworld, despair blinded you, deceiving you for years,”

he taunted as the Otherworld creatures around them laughed.

The partygoers continued to spill wine all around, unaware of what was happening. She pondered if there was something in the drink to make them like that too.

“You are what nightmares are made of. There must be a way to break the deal. I won’t—”

She started to pull herself up, ready to do whatever it took to break their deal. She wasn’t a killer, but she still had some time. Perhaps a bargain, offering her soul. Something that could benefit her somehow.

There is always a way. That was what Dorah had told her years ago when she taught her the ways around the Shadowmarket.

As soon as she launched herself toward him, as much as Seraphine longed to strike Evren, he carefully pulled her once again toward his body in a disgusting, sweet embrace.

He laughed softly as his mouth caressed her cheek.

“Time’s up.”

Then, the clock struck twelve.