Page 73 of A Wolf for Winter

“Lilac,” Boar hissed.

Right! They were almost shoulder to shoulder now, and she needed to summon her magic. As the siblings dipped inward towards the center of their little circle, magic bloomed on their right hands. Glittering leaves for Lilac, contained fireworks for Rose, a steady glow like a green sun for Boar. On the next beat, they spun away from each other, slinging green light to the oohs and aahs of the onlookers. Then it was a skip and a jump, their backs arching as they landed in a lunge position, pointing their glowing hands to the crystal chandelier.

Three jets of green magic streaked for the chandelier, bathing it in what seemed like green flame. Their magic licked around the closest glass ornaments, the gold confetti inside igniting with bursts of light and sparking a chain reaction throughout the entire Hall. Crackling like the report of faraway firecrackers rippled through the air as the voluminous space became alive with light. The “stars” reflected in every upturned eye as mouths gasped in wonder.

Lilac risked a glance at her siblings. Boar had a satisfied smile on his face; Rose gaped like a child, no doubt partially due to that spiked punch. Their magic had snuffed out after jettisoning it upwards, but Lilac hadn’t released hers yet, Allen’s warning still fresh.

A sharp crack wrenched her attention upwards as the light of the glass ornaments darkened from yellow to amber to orange. Her sharp eyes caught sight of a black rune in stark contrast against the molten-hot glass of the ornament directly above Rose’s head.

“What the—?” Boar breathed.

The ornaments exploded.

Rose was the first to scream.

Shards of glass like icicles speared down to the upturned faces of the crowd, aiming right for their necks.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

A gentle heat spread from Allen’s hand up his arm and into his chest. Joining it was the sensation of pins and needles, like his arm had fallen asleep and was now waking. Except his whole body felt that way, excluding his butt and the backs of his legs. Those were completely numb.

Allen forced open his eyes. His sluggish heart picked up until it thundered at the sight of the night sky. Stars glittered overhead, his view marred by skeletal branches—he was in the forest. He was sitting in the forest, his back against the coarse bark of an elm tree. How had Talia moved him? The heretic’s fork?

Grunting, he strained forward only to be met with a body of cement.

His wolf whined pitifully, lying on his side.

“Hold on,” Allen croaked aloud. His hand tightened down around the hexafoil in his pocket.

He’d been convinced of its identity after Talia had turned that heretic’s fork on him, and the hexafoil was a potent protection charm. It’s what Prue had flung at Lilac, not in attack, but in defense. Prue had never been their enemy.

As the hexafoil continued to nullify the effects of Talia’s fruitcake, clearing his thoughts, a lot of what Prue had told him over the past few days took on a different meaning.

“You take care of yours, Allen, and I’ll take care of mine.”

That’s what she’d told him on the sidewalk outside the Roots’ townhouse. She’d known, or at least suspected, that one of her flock had been causing trouble for the Hawthornes. No doubt she’d intended to confront the antagonist and discipline them within the confines of Cailleach Lodge, all to prevent the power struggle that would be destined to occur otherwise. That was occurring now.

Talia had duped them all, except she wasn’t alone in her endeavor. “They are blights upon this valley.” That’s what Prue had said, and the hedge witch hadn’t been talking about the practitioner.

Allen suspected Talia had been preyed upon—the weak and hurt often were. Someone in need of a patsy often promised grand things to those most susceptible, and after being so publicly humiliated by Prue in the Cat & Cauldron, she had been ripe for manipulation.

That doesn’t excuse her, his wolf snarled. She is going to hurt our mate! We will taste her blood before the dawn.

We can’t protect Lilac if you don’t do your wolf thing and burn through this poison, Allen countered. The hexafoil had given them a boost, but now it was up to them to eradicate it. Aren’t you supposed to run hot or something?

I do. And I am. I wasn’t the one who ate the food!

We ate it. We are one, remember?

His wolf snarled at him, fighting to roll himself into a sitting position. He managed it, and Allen felt new strength flooding into his limbs. He pulled the hexafoil out of his pocket and placed it against his chest, hoping closer contact to his heart would speed up the process.

It did, thank the spirits, and Allen shifted restlessly, eager to get out of the snow. His senses were sharpening with every second, bringing to him the scents of the forest and the sounds of the Hall and even the village below.

And of the mob that was approaching.

It didn’t take him long to figure out who they were. From the sight of knobby shillelaghs, leather skirts, pelts slug across their shoulders, and bits of forestry and hand-carved charms dripping from their belts and necks, these were the hedge witches and practitioners of Cailleach Lodge come for their leader.

“A coven war,” Lilac’s voice echoed in his mind.