Page 13 of A Wolf for Winter

“The ring can only be removed and/or worn by the caretaker,” Lilac said. “Nan must’ve given it to him.”

“What did you do to her?” Boar demanded, grabbing Allen by the hair and yanking his head back so he could glare down at him.

“Get me out of this floor and I’ll tell you,” Allen barked back. He could’ve just answered the question, but that wouldn’t earn any of their respect. He had to be tough but not obstinately combative.

Boar snorted, keeping his grip on Allen’s hair. But his other hand moved to Allen’s shoulder, and then Rose made the floor go malleable again. Boar rudely dragged Allen onto solid ground and shoved him into a seated position where the witches could tower over him.

“Thanks,” he snarked.

“Get talking.”

He would, but not on the ground. Not like a prisoner. Allen made to rise.

“You can talk from down there.”

Allen shoved Boar’s hand away and sprang upright. The witches tensed, but Allen merely averted his gaze to impress upon them he wasn’t a threat and made a show of dusting off his grocers uniform. It was no more than a white apron over his street clothes, but Homegrown Roots Grocers was printed boldly on the front and impossible to miss. “I might be a delivery boy, but you don’t get to push me around.”

“A delivery boy who knows how to fight,” Boar said suspiciously.

“I like to keep fit for when I’m attacked while being a Good Samaritan.”

Boar rolled his eyes. “Alright, Good Samaritan, spill it.”

Allen’s gaze flickered over the assembled witches, marking their body language with military precision. He had to make his case to the one most open to receive it, and right now, that was Rose. But she wasn’t the smart choice. He knew her to be overly friendly but impulsive, and the one he convinced had to hold some true weight with the others. It had to be Boar. Still, he couldn’t help glancing at Lilac again, just to make sure.

“Zofia Hollyoak is good friends with my employers, the Roots,” he explained, facing the brother. “She was the victim of hit-and-run this afternoon and couldn’t make it up here, so she gave me the ring and the keys to open the place and wave that stupid sage around.”

Rose glanced over her shoulder and marked the bundle still smoldering where he had wedged it in the door handle.

“And you were snooping in my sister’s room why?” Boar asked.

“The sage was giving me a headache and I needed the fresh air.”

It seemed Boar appreciated his direct reporting, and there was no need to elaborate or even lie. The truth was always best, whenever it didn’t get you killed.

“Well, duh,” Rose said. “You only gotta wave it around the entryway. You’ve been burning it this whole time?” She laughed.

Allen chose not to be offended—animosity would only make it harder for them to trust him later. “Zofia didn’t have the time to give me explicit instructions. Said there was a schedule to keep.”

The three witches shared a look and said in unison, “The pact.”

Then Boar produced a cell phone from his pocket. “I’m checking your story. Stay right there.”

“Oh, he’s not going anywhere.” Rose said, glittering magic engulfing her hands.

“Nice shot, by the way.” He spoke over her head to the sister behind her. It was important to him that Lilac know he recognized another trait besides her beauty.

Lilac sniffed, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked away. But not entirely. She was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Balefully or intriguingly, he couldn’t be sure, but his wolf certainly hoped for the latter.

Easy, boy. Keep your eyes on the prize. The Coalition, that is, he felt it necessary to add.

“So you work out, huh?” Rose asked, and very amicably too, despite the magical threat sparking at her hands.

“Rose, don’t talk to him,” Lilac admonished.

The youngest sibling ignored her. “You like cardio?” she asked.

Allen’s eyes narrowed. Is she . . . flirting with me? From the coquettish quirk of her eyebrow, that was indeed a yes.