Crown of Frost

  Crown of Frost

  (Faerie Lords, Book 1)

  Isabella August

  Copyright © 2019 by Isabella August

  https://isabellaaugust.com

  Cover by Jacqueline Sweet

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and stories are the product of the authors' imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons (living or dead), organizations, and events is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are consenting adults of ages 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Crown of Briars

  Connect with Isabella

  Appendix: The Zodiac

  Also by Isabella August

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  It was cold, dark, empty as the void. There was no moon, no stars overhead.

  “You’ll forget me,” a soft voice promised.

  Cold, piercing blue eyes, like chips of ice. The distant scent of sandalwood and evergreen. Something terrible lay behind those eyes, but Elaine couldn’t bring herself to be afraid.

  “I won’t forget you,” she whispered. “How could I?”

  “You will,” he assured her. His pale hand brushed her cheek, warm against the chill that had burrowed its way inside her. “But maybe that’s for the best.”

  Already, the shreds of memory began to slip away again, like sand between her fingers.

  “Lainey.”

  A finger gently poked her in the forehead. Elaine groaned.

  “Lainey.”

  A thumb and forefinger closed on her nose, squeezing it. Elaine jolted awake, instinctively swatting at the hand in her face. Her sluggish attempt caught only air; her opponent had already stepped out of reach with a faint snort.

  Elaine cracked her eyes open blearily. A few things occurred to her in quick succession.

  One: she’d fallen asleep on top of her own shop counter.

  Two: Elaine’s apprentice Jenna — the source of the prodding — was currently jerking her head toward the door at the front of the flower shop, where a customer had just entered.

  Elaine shot up in her chair, embarrassed. Oh my god, I fell asleep on-shift.

  Thankfully, Jenna had the situation in-hand. The young, auburn-haired woman headed confidently toward the door, heading off the man that had just entered. “Hey!” she said brightly, surreptitiously shielding her mentor from view. “Last-minute purchase?”

  Jenna’s sunny attitude was a stark contrast against the cold, darkening sky outside. December in Toronto meant early sunsets and frigid nights. Elaine gave a shiver and a few hard blinks, pulling her cardigan closer around herself. Her mouth was dry, and she had a faint headache. She grimaced as she caught sight of a distorted, shadowy reflection of herself in the window of the shop. Her long black hair was a bird’s nest, sticking out at odd angles. If she squinted, she could just barely see the black smudges underneath her dark green eyes — battle scars from the last five years of long, insomniac nights and stolen daytime naps.

  Normally, those stolen naps were careful and purposeful, rather than accidental. But Elaine’s overactive, terrified imagination hadn’t let her sleep a wink last night. The darker and colder it got, the more she found herself jumping at every little noise. She knew she wouldn’t feel quite right again until midwinter had come and gone.

  Elaine managed to brush her fingers through her hair and straighten out her clothing just before Jenna returned to the counter with their last-minute customer. Elaine dimly recognized him as a wedding planner who’d come through the shop before. He shot her a polite but friendly smile as she rang up the cost of the prim white roses Jenna had helped him wrap up for the road.

  “You’re a hidden treasure,” he informed her. “I don’t know how you manage such perfect roses in the middle of winter.”

  Elaine smiled shyly. The compliment briefly banished her embarrassment. “Oh, that’s so nice of you. I suppose it’s just practice.”

  “Oh yeah,” Jenna said, with a hint of irony. “She’s got a magic touch.” Elaine shot her a warning look, and Jenna coughed behind her silver wireframe glasses. “I’ll, uh. Help you load these up in the car,” she added.

  As Jenna started hauling out flowers, Elaine checked the time and started closing up. Her apprentice locked the door behind her as she headed back in. Jenna shivered dramatically, brushing a fresh sheen of snow from her hair. “Honestly, Lainey, you’re so paranoid. People don’t believe in magic. I could shout it from the rooftops and they’d just think it was some weird advertising gimmick.”

  Elaine pressed her lips together. “There are some things out there that definitely believe in magic,” she corrected her apprentice. “I’ve put a lot of work into making this shop hard for supernatural things to find. I’d appreciate it if you showed a little more discretion.”

  Jenna frowned. “Is that what those wards are for? I’m still working on puzzling out some of your weird Taurus magic.”

  Elaine gave her a wry look. “My Taurus magic isn’t weird,” she said. “You’ve just got a biased viewpoint. I find your Cancer magic just as strange sometimes.” She headed out from behind the counter and reached out to take Jenna’s cold hands in her own, warming them. “Your uncle asked me to train you because I’m so well-hidden. He seemed to think you would appreciate that. If you want to stay quiet, a little paranoia isn’t a bad thing.”

  Jenna sighed. “Yeah. I do. I appreciate all of it, Lainey — not just the wards.” She looked down. “You’re the boss. I’ll watch my jokes.”

  Elaine managed a relieved smile at that. “Thanks. I know it may seem like overkill. But it makes me feel better.”

  Jenna gave her a wry grin. “Maybe you can teach me to fall asleep in funky positions next,” she said. “I swear, you’re like the amazing narcoleptic witch, Lainey. You could snooze your way through an air raid.”

  Elaine winced. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t even hear you come in. You should have woken me up sooner.”

  Jenna shrugged. “It was my shift anyway. Figured I’d let you sleep, if you needed it that much.” She pulled her hands away, warming them inside the sleeves of her long, red-and-black striped shirt. “You ever considered a sleep clinic? The psych department’s got one. I could get you in.”

  Elaine shook her head. “I know what the problem is,” she said. “But thanks.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “I love you, Lainey,” she said. “But you have got a classic case of therapy-aversion. There’s nothing wrong with letting someone talk you through your shit. Hell, if you’re worried about getting thrown in a psych ward over the magic stuff, you can talk to me.”

  “I do talk to you,” Elaine said. Her lips curved upward. “I’m well aware of your many strong opinions on my life.”

  Jenna pursed her lips. “I’m not that bad,” she said.

  Elaine’s phone pinged with a text mes
sage. Jenna glanced toward it, and her eyes narrowed. As Elaine picked it up, her apprentice opened her mouth to say something scathing. Elaine cut her off.

  “You’re that bad,” she said. “You were just about to venture another opinion on my love life.”

  Jenna narrowed her eyes further. “It’s a valid opinion.” The fierce expression on her face would have frightened off a lesser woman — but Elaine had faced down far worse. She flicked open the text message.

  Been trying to call all day. Dinner @ 8PM. Raphael’s.

  “Can I venture that you shouldn’t need to tether yourself to your phone just to make your boyfriend happy?” Jenna asked. “Can I venture that he treats you like an extension of him, like something he owns—”

  Elaine sighed. “It’s such a lovely night out, Jenna,” she said. “You could focus on that instead.”

  “—and you let him do it, because you are both the sweetest person I know and the worst doormat in the world.” Jenna crossed her arms, glaring at the phone.

  Another text came through.

  Wear something nice for once. No cardigans.

  Elaine bit her lip.

  Jenna huffed. “Whatever he’s saying, tell him to fuck off. I’ll stay over tonight. We can order Chinese and watch superhero movies.”

  Elaine gave her another warning look. “Jenna.”

  Her apprentice quieted… reluctantly. But Elaine could tell there was more she was bursting to say.

  “I’ve got to get ready and get going if I’m going to make it to dinner on time,” Elaine told her. “Your paycheck is under the counter, don’t forget it. Keep working on your divination tonight — I’m going to ask what you saw tomorrow.”

  Jenna smiled much too sweetly. “I foresee you breaking up with Adam,” she said. “I divine that your mental health will instantly improve the moment that you do it.”

  Elaine turned for the door behind the counter that led up to her loft. “Lock the door again on your way out,” she said.

  Chapter 2

  Elaine climbed the metro stairs to King Street, cursing the tall black stiletto heels she’d dug out of her closet for the occasion. When Adam wrote nice, she knew, he meant a particular kind of nice. Raphael’s wasn’t the sort of place to which you wore comfortable flat-heeled shoes.

  The chill evening air tried to creep under her long coat as she stuffed her hands into her pockets and clipped down the street. It reminded her forcefully of her nightmares, where half-remembered memories of Arcadia tended to surface. Five years ago, Elaine had somehow managed to escape her captivity under one of the darkest faerie lords of that other world. Lord Blackfrost had built a garden of ice and stone just for her — a prison he called the Lifeless Garden.

  The faerie world of Arcadia leeched away memories upon your departure… but the underlying emotions lingered, interspersed with terrifying, jumbled-up images. Elaine knew she would never truly be free of Blackfrost, even after its lord’s death. Sparse memories told her that she’d somehow killed the sinister faerie lord on her way out — but the cold still touched her more deeply than it did others, and the scars that the Lifeless Garden had left on her soul would never fade.

  She probably could have chosen a less chilly place to resettle herself after escaping a realm of unnatural cold and darkness, she reflected dimly — but she’d grown up in Toronto, and it still felt like home. Besides, the city was nothing like the Lifeless Garden — you could never really feel alone in Toronto, surrounded by all those busy people living busy lives, throwing you the occasional smile in passing.

  Elaine took in a deep breath and opened her Witchsight on the streets around her. The slight fearful edge she’d felt since stepping foot outside her door drained utterly away as she drank in the reassuring feel of the city. Her sixth sense tingled with ambient happiness, shaded with a hint of wistfulness. Friday evening on King Street was people coming in from the cold to have coffees with their friends. It was a walk dotted with the occasional hearthfire of emotional coziness.

  Witchsight didn’t just show you things, though it did come with a certain imagery. It was more like a jumble of feelings, halfway interpreted into symbols; Elaine had never heard it properly expressed with human language, though many witches had tried. It could be dangerous to open your Witchsight on otherworldly creatures, or on places with intense history… but King Street was simply comfortable. The financial district was dressed up for appearances, but it was still pleasantly worn in underneath the modern glamor. Elaine had been born with Taurus magic — the power of strong, steady earth and slow, dependable growth — and King Street had always felt like a place steeped in similar power.

  She could already feel her destination, even from a few blocks away. Raphael’s, the Italian place where Adam had made reservations, had a different quality to it than the rest of King Street. Her Witchsight saw it as a place that curled warily away from the outside — like a flower bud tightly closed, worried to be seen but still craving approval. Raphael’s had a strange self-consciousness to it, as though the bricks and windows of the restaurant itself knew that they were putting on a face for its customers. Still, there was a true underlying sense of comfort there — the food was probably quite good, in spite of the place’s strange existential dilemma. Elaine covered a slight smile as she opened one of the glass double doors and clipped her way inside.

  The inside of the restaurant was tastefully decorated in white plaster and rich dark woods. Elaine paused at the host stand, peering past it for the dining area. She caught sight of handworked wooden tables and chairs, which endeared the place to her just a little bit. A lit, old-fashioned fireplace at the center of the tables warmed the restaurant.

  Elaine closed her eyes and dipped her hand into her coat pocket, curling her fingers around a small sachet of seeds. She fixed the image of the place in her mind’s eye, imagining the building’s insecurities as long, spidery cracks in the plaster of the walls. As she took in a deep breath, she gathered up a bit of her magic and pushed it out toward those tiny fractures. You are enough, she thought to the place. You are not flawed. Your imperfections are charming. They give you character.

  Her magic coalesced around the seeds in her pocket, sprouting into an invisible, winding rose vine. Slowly — deliberately — it crawled its way up the wall and settled into those cracks. As Elaine concentrated, roses bloomed there, filling the room with their scent. The mortals here wouldn’t see the vines, or smell the roses in the same way that she did — they were mental constructs, images that Elaine had created to reinforce her magic, with the seeds as her focus — but they would feel the effects. For just a little bit, Raphael’s would lose its faint edge of insecurity; the people here would find themselves able to see the beauty in its quirks, rather than dwelling on them with distaste. Everyone in the room would breathe easier, inhaling the phantom scent of roses.

  Had another witch walked into Raphael’s, they would have felt the subtle tingle in the air. If they opened their Witchsight, they would see Elaine’s roses exactly the way that she had envisioned them herself. A witch with an earth sign — another Taurus, a Virgo, or a Capricorn — would find the spell fairly intuitive and easy-to-understand. Other signs like Jenna would probably struggle to make heads or tails of it, unless they’d bothered to study magic outside of their usual spheres. Mortals like Adam would see nothing at all, though they would benefit from the spell regardless. With luck, the spell might even make their date more pleasant.

  As she closed her Witchsight and opened her eyes again, Elaine realized that she was no longer alone at the host stand. A tall blond woman in a gray skirt-suit had returned there; she was looking expectantly at Elaine. As the witch opened her eyes, the other woman smiled welcomingly. “Reservation?” she asked.

  Elaine checked her phone and frowned. “I’m a bit early,” she said apologetically. “It’s under the name Adam Gagnon. It’s supposed to be for eight this evening.”

  The hostess waved a hand, as though to dismiss her
worries. “We’ve still got a bit of space. I can seat you a bit early if you want.” Elaine’s eyes flickered toward a seat near the fireplace; the hostess followed her gaze, and then winked. “Right this way,” she said.

  Elaine wondered whether the hostess had subconsciously noticed her handiwork on the restaurant. Mortals couldn’t see witch magic, but they often noticed that something had changed. The hostess had a relieved look to her, and Elaine suspected that she had been having a poor night before the spell of comfort had offered her a change in perspective. Elaine was always careful not to force thoughts or emotions onto the mortals around her, but a lot of times they were only too happy to accept the ambient positive feelings she offered up to them. She had always disliked using her magic for selfish or frivolous purposes… but improving someone’s day struck her as a small, easy thing that she could do for others, and she enjoyed performing such spells when the opportunity presented itself. Spreading contentment was something that her power wanted to do, and she was happy to accommodate it in that respect.

  As the hostess settled her at the table next to the fire, Elaine tugged off her coat and draped it over the back of her chair. A soft draft of cold air curled over her pale, bare shoulder, and she shivered, tugging the chair closer to the fire. It was a good thing the hostess had taken a liking to her; she hadn’t counted on the restaurant being just a bit chilly. Little black dresses like the one she wore might be aesthetically appealing, but they were hardly ideal for winter breezes. For just a moment, Elaine wished she’d brought one of her cardigans anyway. She hated being cold. It never failed to key her up.