Page 37 of A Wolf for Winter

Lilac shoved herself free of him and straightened her dress. “I wasn’t going to touch it with my bare hand—I’m not stupid. And I’m not a damsel, Allen.”

“I . . . I know that,” he choked out.

It looked like he was fighting to say something else, but she couldn’t spare the time to wait for him to spit it out. Nor did she want to. He confused her—teasing and boyish one moment, a man with secrets the next—and she had to stay focused on her mission to prove herself to her family. And, at present, to help that family get rid of this vicious ill-wish.

She joined her siblings, and the three of them linked their glowing hands. Green light flowed from their joined hands and speared into the cluster of pods. As one, they chanted a variant of the familiar Cleansing Spell,

“By the Power of Three, let us decree:

Remove this blight, this pestilent sore,

Return to Nature, be clean ever more.”

A green sphere encapsulated the cluster of pods, turned opaque, and with a flash of light, disappeared. Nothing but a circle of winter-yellow grass remained. The punch-contaminated snow and the ill-wish were gone.

But the intent of the threat still remained. Lilac wet her lips, her heart swelling with dread that it threatened to squeeze the air from her lungs. “I was the target.”

She hugged herself, wishing she had more than a simple shawl to comfort her. Warm arms, perhaps. She shook the thought away and focused on the one that mattered: who would do such a thing?

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Rose joked weakly. “But maybe not this time. Maybe it was meant for all of the Hawthornes. We didn’t test it before we scoured it.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was just Lilac or all of us,” Boar countered, “because the punch should’ve never been tampered with. The refreshment table was your job, Rose. Where were you?”

Color ignited on Rose’s cheeks like a sudden explosion of fireworks. “I-I . . ..”

She had no excuse, and they all knew it. She’d left her responsibilities for Allen to handle so she could flirt with her mountain man, Darren Morton.

“Boar, I—”

“Save it. Had you just done your job, Allen could’ve been more mindful of the Hall. Sensed its alarm before this catastrophe could happen. A man almost died, do you get that? Are you even capable of understanding that importance, or is your head up in the clouds with the birds like it always is?”

Rose burst into tears.

“And you.” Boar rounded on Lilac. “You sold your potions after I explicitly told you not to? And how did you even—” His head snapped towards Allen.

The man was looking straight at the irate witch, shoulders squared and hands linked behind his back. There was nothing but barely concealed disgust on the caretaker’s face. Lilac wondered where the man got the balls to look at her brother with such disrespect, not that she was against it at the moment. It was so bold, so refreshing to see someone not cowed by a Hawthorne, and, she had to admit, somewhat—okay, very—attractive.

“I told you to throw that crate outside,” Boar seethed. “To make sure it shattered—”

“I did. And it did. Not my fault the bottles didn’t break.”

The pulsing vein in Boar’s temple threatened to explode.

“You leave him out of this.” Lilac thrust her finger into her brother’s face. “He did as you commanded. It’s not his fault that, that”—she cast a trepid glance at the caretaker, gaining confidence as he just looked back at her with wondrous disbelief—“that I went back because I couldn’t give them up.”

Lilac squared her shoulders, fully committed now. There was no heat in her next words, just humble yet pure self-assuredness. “And you know what? I’m glad I did. My potions are just as good as Mom’s. You know how I know that? Because one of them healed Landen.”

“That is beside the point and you know it,” Boar snapped. “I assume you used the Roots’ booth when they didn’t show? Will I find any more of your potions when I go back there?”

That took the wind out of her sails lightning quick, and Lilac couldn’t lie fast enough.

“Allen,” Boar barked. “Stay here with the girls.”

It was only then when Boar swept past them that Lilac realized a small crowd had formed to watch the spectacle. She recognized all of them, recognized the uncertain look in their eyes for what it was—if her own brother didn’t believe in her ability, why should they believe in her products?

She looked for Edith, hoping to find a sympathetic face, but the little faun bookseller was nowhere to be found. Lilac spied Talia though, the server fidgeting and looking miserable for witnessing the confrontation between siblings. Or maybe she’d been apprehensive of a witch duel breaking out and causing collateral damage.

“Talia, do you have a moment?” she said in the clear, controlled voice of her serene persona. Inside, she was quivering with wrath.