Page 44 of A Wolf for Winter

A woman. No, women.

Shrieking.

“Lilac!”

Allen shot off at a sprint, his wolf cursing him for not shifting. Four legs could run faster than two, after all. He ignored his panicked wolf, fighting for calm himself.

It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

In the back of his mind, he chastised himself for being so reactive, so volatile, instead of thinking through the situation and how he was going to maintain his cover.

Except it was Lilac.

He had to get to her. Now.

Allen broke through the tree cover, his sharp eyes absorbing every detail of the scene below him in rapid-fire succession.

The Hawthornes were alone, just as he’d left them.

A third of the pond had been cleared of snow with a push broom, which now lay abandoned on the ice.

The ice was a marvelous pale blue, indicating perfectly frozen water.

The girls had apparently left the grunt work of clearing the pond to Boar, for there were two tracks of skates across the ice and through the powdery snow that covered the rest of the pond.

And a weak spot at its center, where Rose now knelt as she fought to haul Lilac out of the water.

It must’ve just happened, for Boar, though he was running across the pond, hadn’t even reached his sisters yet.

Allen launched himself off the slope, landing at the bottom of the little hill. The jump robbed him of his boots, the snow his socks, and he hit the frozen surface of the pond with his bare feet.

His wolf howled, and sharp nails sprouted from his toes to better grip the ice as he raced to help them.

“Something’s pulling her down,” Rose wailed.

“It’s her clothes,” Boar shouted back, finally reaching them. He grabbed Lilac’s other arm and pulled, cursing when she didn’t rise even an inch out of the water. “Rose, I’ll hold her up, you get that coat off her.”

“My. Feet,” Lilac protested, fighting against the chattering of her teeth. Spirits above, her lips were already blue. “It’s got—”

“Damn it, my fingers are frozen.” Tears streamed down Rose’s cheeks as she fumbled with Lilac’s coat buttons. “Li, you need to kick. You need—”

Lilac screamed as something jerked her down, the slushy water swallowing her up to her neck.

Allen jumped into the water.

The cold shocked him, but his anger, and his wolf, kept him plenty warm. They wouldn’t for long. Not unless he shifted.

He gripped Lilac’s waist and gave her a shove up, but she was correct about her feet. Something was dragging her down, and it wasn’t her ice skates.

What is that?

Even with his enhanced vision, he only saw it in the murky depths of the water because it was pulsing with a faint yellow light. It looked like tumbleweed had mated with a burdock burr, and it was wrapped around the blade of her right skate like a tiny octopus.

A tiny murderous octopus, for it was actively pulling her down.

His wolf snarled, and Allen’s hand transformed into a paw. The yellow light of the ill-wish illuminated the impenetrable golden-white of his fur, turning it an ugly tawny color. Ugly or not, his nails still dug deep into the weave of the spiky tumbleweed, ripping like Allen was intent on digging the heart out of an enemy’s chest. The outer twigs broke away, revealing the source of the ill-wish’s light—a strange-looking knot.

Its pulsating yellow light winked out as its fragments sank into the dark. Allen shuddered—it should have floated.