Page 20 of A Wolf for Winter

Allen scented Lilac’s return to the corner booth and stood when the witch approached. She skewered him with a look, her beautiful mouth set in a disgusted twist. Spirits above, he’d really stepped into some shit when he’d said that about her reputation earlier. Like an idiot on his first mission, he’d forgotten a critical piece of information—Zofia had said the villages referred to her as a heartbreaker. Which was just a polite term for hussy. Or slut.

Of course, that’s not at all what he’d been referring to, and not at all what he believed about her, but she didn’t know that.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he said quickly. “I only meant the Hawthorne reputation for despising shifters.”

“Hmph,” was her icy reply. Then she looked him up and down. “Why are you standing?”

“It’s, um, what you do when a lady—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish before sliding gracefully back into the booth beside her brother and picking up her fork. She gave her salmon a vicious stab, and Allen wondered if it was his head she was envisioning instead of the fish. He sank back into his seat.

“Now that Lilac’s recovered from her touch of the vapors or whatever nonsense,” Boar said, casting a glare at his sister, “let’s finish getting you up to speed, Allen.” To Lilac, he said, “He didn’t want to continue the conversation without you, out of respect, so maybe you can show him some in return?”

“If he earns it,” came her reply.

Inside, his wolf’s ears drooped.

“Let’s eat and talk, okay?” Rose ladled some soup into her bread bowl. “No reason to let it get cold.”

“You’re the Keeper of the Keys,” Boar said without preamble, “the Feeder of the Fire, the Maintainer of the Mansion.”

“You forgot Ringbearer.” Allen lifted his left hand where the opal glittered on his pinky finger.

“Lucky for you,” Rose said, nudging him in the shoulder, “you don’t have to leave your hobbit hole and miss tea time.”

“The Hall is spelled to obey your ring,” Boar continued. “You think it, and it’ll do it. It mostly commands the shield wall around the Hall, but Zofia was able to get the hearth to run hotter without any additional wood and make doors open for her at will, so long as they were already unlocked.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“She was also our cook and housekeeper,” Lilac said flatly, still trying to get a rise out of him. “You know, scrub the toilets, take out the trash, mop and polish the floors. You’ll be our servant. Still fancy?”

Servant? From the way she said, she might’ve just as well called him a dog.

Allen keep a tight rein on his temper. Let her unleash her vinegar and ire. The sooner she got it out of her system, knowing it would never get a rise out of him, the better. He didn’t normally let himself take a beating, either verbally or physically, but for them, for her—the girl in the photograph with the sad eyes—he was strangely willing to do it.

For the mission, you mean, a small voice corrected him. The wolf told that voice to fluff off.

“We take care of our own rooms,” Rose assured him, “but the function hall . . ..”

“I’m not opposed to hard labor, if that’s what you think.” It also gave him the perfect excuse to be all up in their business and make sure they were safe. He waggled his pinky finger to make the opal glitter again. “And it’s not like I have a choice, either, so there’s no use griping.”

Boar cleared his throat in a clear warning for Lilac to stop being so prickly and continued. “Now, Mrs. Hollyoak resided in the suite in the cellar, but since you’re a good foot and a half taller than that house elf—”

“She’s a house elf?” Allen exclaimed.

“You got something against Fair Folk?” Lilac asked sharply.

According to the dossier Sionnach had given him, the Hawthornes didn’t trust the fae on principle, but Lilac didn’t know Allen knew that, and it was clear she was determined to find fault in him.

“You’re the one who made me touch an iron cuff to prove I wasn’t fae,” he replied. “Do you?”

“Nan’s an exception,” Rose whispered.

“Drink your tea, Lilac. That’s an order,” Boar said.

Reddening with embarrassment, Lilac lifted her cup for a swallow, wincing against the abrasive heat. She summoned her magic, manifesting as a brief green glow of her fingertips, to draw some of the heat away.

“I just never would’ve guessed Zofia was a house elf is all,” Allen answered her, keeping his voice earnest and sincere. It was clear she was a treasured addition to the Hawthorne family. “I thought house elves couldn’t leave their dwellings.”