Page 45 of A Wolf for Winter

There was a sudden rush of bubbles as Lilac was hauled from the water. Allen followed after them and the liquidy orb that represented the December sun back to the surface. He barely remembered to shift his hand and toes back into their human appearance before he wrestled himself out onto the lip of the hole. Boar dragged him out the rest of the way.

“There was something in the water,” he forced out.

He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from rattling out of his head and shook the water from his clothes like a dog. Then he bent, snatched Lilac from where Rose cuddled her on the ice, and swept the witch into his arms.

“You two do something about that,” he barked at Rose and Boar, stomping away to the closest bank. The order given, Allen could focus solely on the woman in his arms. “Lilac, sweet girl, open your eyes.”

Her eyelids only fluttered. She was as pale as porcelain.

Allen let out a string of curses that she probably would’ve slapped him across the mouth for had she been conscious. On the bank, he set her down and immediately started to remove her coat. Flashbacks of a similar action with Zofia Hollyoak made his chest tighten.

“I need you, Hawthornes,” he told the others, “so finish—”

The harsh sound of metal grating against metal punctured the air. He shot a glance over his shoulder—red runes and yellow sparks illuminated on the siblings’ activated cuffs. Their emerald-green magic darkened to a hue more reminiscent of an ancient pine forest.

Battle magic.

There was a conjoined burst, then Rose and Boar were running across the ice like a demon was chasing them.

The pond exploded.

Slush shot into the sky, chunks of ice arcing in every direction like shrapnel from a frag grenade.

Allen braced himself on hands and knees above Lilac, shielding her with his body. He grunted when a piece of ice the size of a grapefruit crashed into his shoulder and another in his kidney. When the assault ended, Allen ignored the pain, pushed back onto his knees, and continued stripping the witch.

Rose reached her sister first. She pressed a glowing hand to Lilac’s forehead and another over her heart. Allen worked on her ice skates, casting furtive glances at her face.

Lilac gasped, her exhale turning into a scream.

For a second, every bone in Allen’s body turned to jelly. She was alive. He allowed himself a shaky breath before attacking her skates with renewed vigor.

“You’re safe, Li.” Rose grabbed her shoulders. “Allen got you out. But you—”

“Stop thrashing or you’ll cut me in the face,” Allen snapped when Lilac fought to rise. Spirits above, he hated yelling at her, but he was a wreck and the only thing he wanted was those cursed skates off her so she could get warm. “Done. Get her up out of the snow.”

Lilac had regained some of her motor function thanks to Rose’s healing, though she was still wobbly as Rose helped her rise.

“Here.” That was Boar’s deep voice. He already had his coat open, green healing magic glowing not just from his hands, but from his skin.

Lilac hesitated for only a heartbeat before falling against him. His arms closed around her immediately, cradling her head against his neck with a glowing hand. Her stocking feet perched on his boots.

“Oh, Lilac,” he said into her wet hair, a single sob shuddering through him.

Jealousy shot through Allen like a bullet to the gut, and he looked away. His wolf was snarling and snapping, livid that the witch was comforting Lilac when it had been them who had rescued her.

We’ve rescued hundreds who never knew our name and you never wanted glory then, he pointed out, though he still felt sick to his stomach.

They weren’t her, his wolf seethed.

Then Allen startled as a warm hand curled over his shoulder. Still on his knees, he glanced up as a flood of heat entered his body. Rose. The witch gave him a tumultuous smile before turning back to her siblings. She opened her coat and hugged Lilac from behind, wrapping her arms around Boar and sandwiching her sister between them.

From the sound of three strong heartbeats, Allen knew they would all be fine. But he wasn’t. Far from it. Shoulders trembling with rage, he stood and traipsed back up the little hill to reclaim his boots. This wasn’t about proving himself to the Coalition anymore. Someone had attacked his wards, his friends, for the last time. When he got his hands around their tormentor’s neck, he was going to rip—

Allen hadn’t realized his hands had clenched into fists until a sharp lance of pain shot under his fingernail. Lifting his hand, he spied a tiny splinter under the nail of his middle finger.

The ill-wish!

He brought it immediately to his nose, inhaling deeply. Pond water, rowan wood, and . . . something fruity.