Page 56 of Season Warriors & Wolves

The Winter King blasted with laughter, signalling his witch. “He has come to the slaughterhouse with his own two feet.”

Kil didn’t stop, and the closer he got, the more I could see the black shadows leaking from his eyes. What looked like my brother was not my brother.

“I’ve come to take,” Kil said, and everything suddenly burned colder—fiercer than snow, like frost fire. “For every day you have kept her here and away from me, I will take something from you, Silas Krigborn.”

“You speak loud for someone who is right where I’ve meant to bring you.”

Red, glowing chains rose from the snowy ground in Kil’s direction, only to go limp right about as they touched his body. Melanthe’s magic had not stuck to him.

And I was just as confused as her considering that the whole land we stood on was a shrine to her power.

My brother did not stop. “I am exactly where I am meant to be. You’re a man of words, but I am a man of my word,” he said before his body dissolved in the darkest cloud of mist that rose into a vortex and began absolving whatever stood in its reach. It claimed life from everything it touched, even air, leaving only blanched ash and death behind.

Melanthe sent a blast of her magic that crashed against my brother almost as if she had thrown him a snowball. And then another. And then a few others. But nothing—nothing stopped my brother from advancing closer and closer to them.

“Melanthe!” Silas bellowed when Kil’s magic got closer and closer.

The witch’s eyes had gone wide, her magic going right through my brother over and over without hurting or binding him. “I don’t understand.”

Four more Crafter’s portalled close by and my brother’s body dissolved in the wind. Leaving them all into a cautious silence. Breathing hard and afraid.

“Shall we make haste now?” my brother called from behind us. “I’m eager to see my wife. I rather miss her.”

We all spun at the deep command of his voice. He stood leaning on the walls, arms crossed over his chest as if he had been there the whole time.

“How did you do that?” It had been only a shadow of his. One who could use magic like him.

He picked some lint from his sleeve. “Let’s say that certain things bring certain qualities in me.”

“Cockiness?”

The bastard had a crooked grin on his face when he pushed from the wall and opened his arms to greet me like he often had done when we were younger. “Forgive me, brother,” he said. “I tried. I tried not to let her go.”

“Not your fault, Kil.” I clasped his shoulder. “And Snow?”

“She is with Thora.”

I nodded and we all stepped through the portal that Visha and Pen had drawn open. It was only when we had fully stepped through to the other side that blood curdling screams filled the dark cold air of Tenebrose, disappearing behind the portal.

“What did you do, Kil?”

My brother’s eyes were veiled black. “Nothing I regret.”

I was going to press on. I swear I was. Had the flash of dark hair held back with those stupid pink bows and emerald eyes that were far too innocent looking not caught my attention. She was breathing hard, her gaze never left mine as she slowly crossed through Visha’s chambers and made her way to us.

“Snow?” my brother asked, stopping her.

She smiled at him. “With Alaric and Nia upstairs.”

“Well done.” He patted her cheek and rushed outside, leaving the two of us alone.

“Your hair has grown back,” I said when no one spoke, and no one moved.

She touched the end of her hair absently but said nothing.

“Don’t I get some sort of greeting for returning alive?”

She extended a hand forward and my head dropped back from laughter. I took her hand and shook it. “I was thinking of something more like this,” I said, pulling her to me and wrapping my arms around her small frame. “Little bird.”