Chapter 1
Gigi’s breath comes out in ragged bursts, the freezing air stinging her lungs as she trudges through the knee-deep snow. The blizzard whips at her face with furious force, the snowflakes stinging like ice needles. Her coat is cinched tightly, and the scarf around her neck is pulled high, but the cold still seeps in—cold that gnaws at her bones, relentless and unforgiving. With every step, her legs scream in protest, but she forces herself forward, her eyes never straying far from the automaton ahead of her.
Cecilia.
The sight of her—tall and graceful as ever, with her silver hair streaked by the wind and dusted with snow—almost feels like a dream. Her movements are fluid, unaffected by the storm’s violence, as though the blizzard were a mere whisper in her ear. The way her coat hugs her form, the way she cuts through the snow with such quiet confidence—it drives Gigi mad. Every single thing about her seems perfect, as if she were made to withstand this hell while Gigi is barely holding on.
But what really gets to Gigi, the thing she can’t look away from, is her eyes.
Those sharp, vivid green eyes.
They stand out against the white, the green of spring cutting through the endless cold of winter. Every glance Cecilia casts in her direction feels like a shock, as if Gigi’s whole body is reacting to it before her mind even catches up.
Why does she have to look so perfect? Gigi thinks, her frustration mixing with something deeper, something she’s afraid to put a name to.
She stumbles, her boots sinking into the snow again, and just as she’s about to curse, Cecilia glances over her shoulder. Their eyes meet, brief but intense, and Gigi’s heart skips a beat.
There’s no smile, no lingering look. Just a quick, sharp check, like Cecilia’s making sure Gigi is still there.
But it’s enough. More than enough. It sends a jolt straight through Gigi’s chest, her breath catching in her throat.
Get a grip, she thinks bitterly. She doesn’t even like you like that.
The thought stings more than the cold.
A sharp tug on her wrist pulls her out of her spiral. Cecilia’s gloved hand is around her arm, her touch firm and steady. It feels like everything Gigi didn’t know she needed, and it makes her heart race in a way she’s trying very hard to ignore.
“You’re falling behind,” Cecilia says, her tone crisp but not unkind.
“I’m fine,” Gigi protests, her voice trembling slightly. Her body betrays her, but she refuses to show weakness.
Cecilia glances at her with a slight smile, one that’s almost knowing. “Really? Because you sound like you’re on the verge of collapsing.”
Gigi glares at her weakly, but the fire behind it is hollow. She’s too aware of Cecilia’s proximity, of the warmth radiating from her that Gigi can’t seem to shake off, even in the freezing storm. Every time Cecilia teases her, it feels like a flicker of light cutting through the icy void.
Then, just when Gigi thinks she might collapse from exhaustion, Cecilia points.
“There,” she says, her voice surprisingly light, almost playful. “Shelter. Don’t fall apart just yet.”
Relief floods through Gigi as they make their way to a small alcove sheltered by a low stone wall. As soon as she stumbles into it, her back hits the stone with a thud, and she gasps for air, feeling her legs give out beneath her.
The cold bites deeper now that she’s stopped moving, her body shaking uncontrollably. She’s too cold. Too weak.
Cecilia steps in front of her, brushing the snow off her coat with a practised motion. Her green eyes flick over Gigi, narrowing slightly as they land on her trembling frame.
“You’re shaking,” Cecilia says, her voice plain but not unkind.
“I’m fine,” Gigi mutters through chattering teeth, though she knows Cecilia can see right through her lie.
“No, you’re not,” Cecilia replies firmly, stepping closer. “You’re freezing.”
“I’ll live,” Gigi tries to sound confident, but it’s a lie. Her teeth are chattering too loudly to pretend anymore.
Cecilia regards her for a moment, then steps forward without hesitation. The motion is fluid, instinctive, like she’s done this before. Her arms wrap around Gigi, and the world narrows to the warmth enveloping her.
For Cecilia, it’s practical, she tells herself. A way to keep Gigi alive. But for Gigi? It’s everything.
The warmth is so much more than just physical. Cecilia’s arms around her are strong, protective, and Gigi lets herself sink into it, heart pounding as her body reacts before her mind catches up. She feels something stirring deep inside her—a desperate need to stay close to this woman who seems so impossibly untouchable.
“You’re like a furnace,” Gigi murmurs, her voice muffled against Cecilia’s coat.
Cecilia chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against Gigi’s ear. “Told you.”
But Gigi knows it’s more than just that. She knows, deep down, she wants more.
“Better?” Cecilia asks, her voice softer than Gigi has ever heard it.
Gigi nods, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah,” she whispers, “Much better.”
The moment they step into the cabin, Gigi is hit with a rush of warmth—an almost tangible comfort that contrasts sharply with the brutal cold they’ve just escaped. The heavy door slams shut behind them with a finality that makes Gigi’s chest tighten. The warmth, the crackling fire in the hearth, and the rustic wooden beams overhead make it feel like the storm outside is nothing more than a dream.
But there’s a sense of unease that gnaws at Gigi, one that she can’t quite shake. The air is too still, too quiet.
“Great,” she mutters, rubbing her hands together. “We’re stuck.”
Cecilia’s sharp gaze scans the room, moving from corner to corner, her posture tense. “This doesn't feel right. It's too quiet.” Her tone is steady, but Gigi can tell she's on edge too.
“Yeah, like we've just walked into a trap,” Gigi says, shaking her head, trying to get a grip on herself. “Are you sure this place is safe? I mean, this is where the book is supposed to be?”
Cecilia shoots her a quick, sidelong glance. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, but she hides it quickly. “I don’t know yet. But we don’t have a choice.”
Gigi watches her for a beat, her heart pounding, before she looks at the now-locked door. No turning back now.
Just as Gigi opens her mouth to speak again, the low hum of a mechanical mechanism fills the air, vibrating through the floorboards beneath them. It’s distant, but close enough to rattle her nerves. The room seems to close in on them, the heavy silence amplifying her growing anxiety.
Click.
A trapdoor in the far corner of the room creaks open, revealing an even colder, darker passage beneath. A small chest rests at the base of the opening, its weathered wood almost camouflaged by the dim light.
“Looks like we’re going down,” Gigi mutters, her pulse quickening. She shoots Cecilia a glance, but the other woman is already stepping toward the chest.
“After you,” Cecilia says, voice smooth but with an edge of something—playfulness or maybe something else.
Gigi glares at her, stepping closer to the edge of the trapdoor. “You’re not pulling that ‘after you’ crap again, are you?”
Cecilia smirks, eyes glinting with a challenge. “Fine. But don’t blame me if you get caught in whatever traps are down there.”
With a reluctant sigh, Gigi lowers herself into the passage, the dark space swallowing her up. As she descends into the cold shadows, her hand brushes against Cecilia’s. It’s a fleeting touch, but it’s enough to make Gigi’s breath hitch. She quickly pulls her hand away, cursing her body’s reaction. Get it together, Gigi, she tells herself, trying to focus on the task.
The passage is narrow, the stone walls pressing in on them as they move deeper into the belly of the cabin. Gigi’s body is pressed so close to Cecilia’s that she can feel the heat radiating off her. With every step, every shift of position, the air between them grows thick, charged. The tension is almost unbearable, but Gigi says nothing, her thoughts scattering every time Cecilia moves too close.
“Are we really doing this?” Gigi asks, her voice low, barely more than a whisper.
Cecilia’s breath fans against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Do we have a choice?” she replies, her tone soft but unwavering, like a calm before a storm.
They continue, their bodies forced together by the confines of the passage. Every inch of space feels like it’s closing in, and the proximity between them is suffocating. Gigi can feel the warmth from Cecilia seeping into her skin, and she hates how much it makes her want to stay close. Focus, she thinks again, her mind spinning.
As they round a corner, the passage opens into a larger room, its floor scattered with hay, creating an almost serene contrast to the rest of the dark, foreboding space. At the centre of the room, a pedestal glows faintly, an ancient-looking key resting on top. But it’s not the key that draws Gigi’s attention. It’s Cecilia.
Gigi watches her for a moment. There’s a flicker in her eyes, something dark and unreadable, mixed with a faint trace of irritation. She’s unsure, but Gigi’s not sure what she’s reacting to. Is it the trial? Or something else?
“This is the first trial,” Cecilia says, her voice tight, not quite meeting Gigi’s eyes. “It’s about trust.”
Gigi opens her mouth to ask more, but before she can get a word out, a deep, mechanical voice resonates through the room.
“Trial One: Close Proximity. Only through complete trust and mutual warmth will you proceed.”
Gigi blinks, her heart leaping into her throat. “What? What kind of trial is that?”
Cecilia exhales slowly, her brow furrowing. “I think... we have to stick together.”
Gigi stares at her, eyes wide. “So, we just... have to stay close? That’s it?”
Cecilia’s gaze softens just a fraction, but she doesn’t answer directly. Instead, she looks at the pedestal. “Looks like it.”
Before Gigi can protest, the floor shifts beneath them, pressing them even closer. Gigi stumbles slightly, her hand instinctively reaching out to grab onto Cecilia for balance. The contact is electric, sending a jolt through her that leaves her breathless. She pulls back immediately, her cheeks flushed.
“Careful,” Cecilia says, her voice low, as her hand steadies Gigi for a brief moment before pulling away. Her touch is fleeting, but it lingers, and Gigi can’t ignore the way her heart speeds up.
“I’m fine,” Gigi mutters quickly, looking away, hoping Cecilia can’t hear the tremble in her voice.
They continue forward, the tension rising with every brush of their bodies, every time their hands accidentally touch. Gigi feels the heat in her cheeks, and it only worsens with the way Cecilia keeps looking at her—not quite concerned, but with something else behind those green eyes.
When they finally reach the pedestal, Gigi stops, taking a deep breath. She glances at Cecilia, unsure of how to even ask. “What happens if this... goes wrong?”
Cecilia looks at her for a long moment, her eyes softening just slightly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
The sincerity in her voice makes Gigi’s breath catch, and for a moment, she forgets to breathe.
Tentatively, Gigi reaches out, her hand brushing against Cecilia’s as she takes the key. Time seems to slow down, the warmth of Cecilia’s touch lingering in her hand. The world stops spinning for just a second, and Gigi feels like she’s drowning in it. Cecilia’s eyes are so close, so intense, that Gigi can hardly breathe.
The pedestal hums softly, the air warming around them as the trial ends, the key unlocking into their hands.
Cecilia steps back first, breaking the spell, clearing her throat awkwardly. “We should keep moving.”
Gigi blinks rapidly, trying to steady her racing heart. “Yeah. Right.”
But as they walk toward the next passage, Gigi can’t shake the feeling that the mission is no longer the only thing at stake. There’s something else now, something neither of them can run from.