Page 63 of A Wolf for Winter

She dug her fingers in deeper, fingernails grazing lightly against the skin between his ears. Lilac nearly jumped out of her skin from the rumble that emanated from the wolf’s chest. Was he . . . purring? She inched a little closer, truly scratching now, and the wolf leaned forcefully into her touch, rumbling louder. His tail thumped against the floor.

Grinning, Lilac slid her hand down the wolf’s cheek, scratching under his chin. When her fingers stilled, the wolf opened contented eyes.

“Show me the man,” she whispered.

The shift was just as seamless as before. No sound of tearing flesh or realigning bones. No flash of light or poof of smoke. Allen Chase was wholly man and wholly wolf, interchanging between the two flawlessly.

The contentment she’d found in the wolf’s eyes was replaced by trepidation in the man’s. His golden gaze flickered all over her face, his chest full with a held breath. He was impossibly close, yet he didn’t touch her.

Lilac reached up, cupping his cheeks. She felt the tension in his body then, the slight quiver. The fear. He’d bared so much more than his soul to her.

“You gave me more than your heart,” she whispered. “You gave me your very life.”

He could only nod, still trembling. Still vulnerable despite the power of his wolf.

“I’ll protect them both,” she told him. “Because I love you too, Allen Chase.”

Something like a gasp or a sob left his throat, his body melting under her touch. Then his arms shot around her, crushing her against him, his mouth branding a copy of her promise on her lips.

He was all delicious heat and possessive kisses and cherishing touches. As he threatened to devour her, her mind recalled their time in the attic where she’d thought the one to win his devotion would be the luckiest person on Earth. She was so grateful it was her.

“Allen.” Her own body fought her as she braced her hands against his bare shoulders and pushed him back.

“Not yet,” he rasped, teeth grazing her neck just the way she liked. “Unless you want to see me butt naked—”

“Oh, shush,” she insisted even as she moaned. She’d forgotten he was naked—how was that even possible?—and it threatened to distract her. But this was important. She pushed a little harder, even zapping him with a little of her green magic.

“No fair,” he grumbled. He stopped kissing her, but his hands remained firmly melded against her hips. Under her pajamas, the heat of his palms pouring right into her skin.

“What are we going to do?” she asked seriously. “You’re a shifter, Allen, and tied to Hawthorne Hall. Someone is going to find out besides me. And they might not be so lenient.”

He grunted softly, considering her words. “Zofia is recovering at the Roots’. She’s protected there. She’s assured me that she’ll reclaim this infernal ring and free me when she’s able. In the meantime, I will play my part and the Yuletide Masquerade will go off without a hitch now that Prue’s in confinement. I am ordered to stay until you three return to the safety of the manor, though my stay may be extended if your coven does not return before the winter solstice.”

“And . . . after?”

“I suppose the Coalition will give me a duty station, maybe another assignment.” He cupped her cheek and looked deep into her eyes. “But I’m not going anywhere without you. At least, not unless we agree on that. You come first, sweet girl.”

She blushed, turning into his hand to hide it. “This might sound silly, but I’ve never been put first before.”

“My love, that’s all you’ll ever be to me.”

Her heart sang, but its song was swiftly muted. “I-I don’t know what’ll become of me,” she admitted, tightening her grip on his arms. “I want what I’ve had here, a life as a respected potions master. If my family can’t accept that . . . then I don’t belong at the manor anymore.”

Allen remained mercifully silent, the hand on her hip squeezing her reassuringly.

“I suppose we could be wanderers together?” she ventured.

He smiled down at her, golden eyes shining. How she had ever thought the golden-brown coloration had been beautiful was baffling in comparison.

“We might need to wander less than you think.” He nudged her nose with his. “Your friend the faun carved out quite the little spot in her shop for your potions, and I’m sure she’d appreciate the company. The space next to her is also vacant, a little charming hole in the wall you could call your own if you want. Plus it comes with an apartment space above. Two bedrooms.”

“How do you—?”

“It’s my job to be nosy. Discreetly, of course.”

But she shook her head sadly. “I’d still be in the manor’s shadow. If they don’t accept me . . . they’ll make it known. And no one here will say anything about it.”

“Then we go,” he said simply.