Page 29

Fox hadn’t fallen into the water like I thought.

He’d been thrown in.

By his brother.

And very nearly killed all for some twisted version of teaching him a lesson. Had I not swerved off the road and left my common sense in the backseat to go in after him, the lesson would have been his last.

A rustle in the brush behind me drew a soft gasp from my lips. I twisted around, thinking it was the flash of a coarse-furred tail, but it was too dark to know for sure. I tracked the sound and minimal movement in the dark as it passed around me in a wide berth before stepping into the firelight.

A man. Nearly six-feet tall. Not an animal from what I could tell... At least, not an animal in stature. Perhaps just in character.

He sauntered up to Arthur’s side, and Arthur inclined his head to listen to what his brother or cousin had to say.

I had to strain to hear the words, but I made out a few snippets.

“...scented her on my way back...” Scented who? “...she followed.”

Arthur chuckled, the sound hollow and deeper than a chasm. “Maybe she wants to take her sister’s place.”

I stiffened, hoarfrost coating my veins.

“Shut up, Arthur. She could be nearby,” one of his cousins barked at the fire where he warmed his hands. For a split second, I thought a literal dog had been barking, but it had just been the gruffness of his voice.

Arthur held out his hands theatrically and called into the darkness, “Come out, little mouse! Come play with the big dogs if you’re so brave!”

He couldn’t be talking about me... He couldn’t be trying to lure me out because I’d been careful. He had to be calling someone else.

“You can be part of the traditions you were so nosy to know about earlier. I know you want to, Miss Bennett.”

Oh. So, he was talking about me.

At this point, I had nothing more to lose and everything to gain. My sister was gone, and Arthur most definitely had something to do with it. I wasn’t going to find out anything more unless it came straight from the horse’s mouth.

The cold was probably inhibiting the part of my brain that came up with sound reason and logic, but I stepped out from behind the tree, nonetheless. Coming into the firelight, I limped on a stiff ankle and stared every man in the eye so they would know I wasn’t too scared to fight tooth and nail if pushed. Already at the ready, I spied an icicle hanging from a branch that would look lovely embedded in one of their chests if they tried anything with me.

Before I could make eye contact with one of the men, he darted into the shadows, disappearing behind thick hemlocks ladened with snow. I hope he’s scared of me, I thought, knowing damn well how unlikely it was for any of these men to fear a girl with a glare and a limp.

I glowered at Arthur last, holding his gaze the longest as I asked, “So what do I have to do?”

He simpered, eyes roving up and down my stature, lingering the longest on my stance. He knew I was injured, and judging by the quirk of his lips, it pleased him.

“It’s simple really,” he crooned, coal-dark eyes boring into mine. I made it my highest mission not to flinch or look away. “The Winter family tradition is to tie up traitors in the heart of the woods. If a maiden appears and shows them favor, they go free and are welcomed back into the family.” Noting the unimpressed arch of my brow, he added, “I know how it sounds. It’s quite old, but we like to hold to tradition”—he gestured vaguely in the air, grasping for the words—“to inspire loyalty.”

I could have kicked him in the balls just for having the arrogance to control his family so viciously. Who did this guy think he was? Alas, I wasn’t close enough to get a quick kick in, and I wasn’t sure I could balance on my bad ankle long enough to really give it to him.

Drily, I asked, “And do I qualify as a maiden in this stupid tradition?” If I had the power to end this all, I would.

“You do,” he replied. I opened my mouth to retort, but he cut me off. “However—There is a catch.”

I closed my mouth and planted a hand on my hip. “Of course there is,” I muttered. “Get on with it, Arthur. I’m freezing out here.” The others had to be as well.

He began to pace back and forth in front of me, passing by Fox the closest with each turn. Briefly, Fox lifted his lowered gaze to glare at his brother so starkly it made me shiver.

Didn’t Arthur feel such a hateful look piercing his back?

Maybe he was too thick to notice.

At last, Arthur graced my ears with the big caveat. “You can only save one.”