Page 65 of A Wolf for Winter

“I was thinking she had endangered my wards for the last time and I was going to rip her throat out.”

Boar cleared his throat, possibly unnerved by the candidness in which Allen relayed that gruesome imagery.

If only you knew how true it was, Lilac mused.

“Yes, well, don’t worry about us so much, Allen. We three are the witches here; you’re a little more breakable as a human—you’re lucky you only got a glancing blow of that incendiary spell. We’d prefer it if you stayed alive, you know?”

“Well, some of us,” Lilac muttered, playing her part.

Boar moved his hand from her chair to her shoulder, squeezing down painfully in warning. “Rose, in particular, was very worried and—”

“Oh shut up,” Allen told him. “Don’t use Rose as an excuse. She was probably cursing up a storm and it was you who was fussing over me like a mother hen, isn’t that right?” He gave Boar a big dopey grin that disarmed her brother completely.

“When you’re better, I’m going to beat your ass, you know that?”

“Well, you’ll try, I suppose.”

Boar snorted. “Get some rest. I wouldn’t want to beat you just because you weren’t at your best.”

“Rest? I slept through the entire night.”

“And we all know you’ve been burning the candle at both ends extending the wards far beyond their normal perimeter and helping us with the Gala. Take another nap,” he ordered. “Lilac? C’mon. He’ll sleep better if you’re not glowering at him.”

“But it’s how I show I care,” she said with saccharine sweetness.

“Up.”

“Mind leaving me that book?” Allen asked her, jerking his chin towards Forgotten Lore of the Arcane. “I’m not ready for more sleep just yet, but I’m sure that book could help, especially if you find it interesting.”

“I’ll contemplate not saving your skin next time you’re in danger,” Lilac said snippily as she rose, tossing the little book dangerously close to his groin.

Allen grunted, flinching with the impact.

Boar practically hauled her out of the room then. She managed one final look at Allen though, risking a smile in response to his wink.

“You could be nicer to him, you know,” her brother growled down at her after he closed Allen’s door. “And are you wearing his clothes?”

“Well I wasn’t going to sit there all cold and wet while I waited for him to regain consciousness. Then the idiot didn’t wake up and I fell asleep in the chair. And why would I be nice to him? He’s an absolute beast.”

She smiled inwardly. And all mine, too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The time between when the bedroom door clicked shut and the footsteps moved away seemed like an eternity. His wolf keened, desperate to follow after the woman who had chosen to love them, but the man remained rigid, despite agreeing with the wolf.

When Allen was convinced Boar or Lilac weren’t going to turn around for one last parting remark, he lurched upright and padded into the bathroom, taking the leather-bound book with him.

Leaning over the sink, he examined his chest in the mirror. It was as Lilac had said, perfectly flawless, but he couldn’t help rubbing the spot on his sternum anyway. That ricochet blast had knocked him out of his shift. That should be impossible. He had command over his wolf. He should’ve remained in his wolf form even unconscious, though, just this time, he was glad he hadn’t.

It could’ve been a fluke—Boar was right, he was burning the candle at both ends. Perhaps his exhaustion had made him more susceptible? He still didn’t like it. Perhaps it was a side effect of his servitude to the Hall? That seemed unlikely, too.

He needed to go back to the scene of the witch duel. Prue had been flinging charms—maybe he could find them in the snow. Talia, too, had used something to protect herself during that last attack, something other than the runes she’d previously relied on. Maybe he could sniff them out in the snow if they were still there?

But first, a shower. The heat would clear his head, bring his memories into focus. As he waited for the water to heat up, Allen flipped through the Forgotten Lore of the Arcane. Despite its small size, it was chock full of information and illustrations. Nothing stood out to him, but he’d rather familiarize himself with everything in case something jumped out later.

He paused on the page depicting the green spark, and he couldn’t help but superimpose images of himself and Lilac over the illustrations. His woman. His mate. When she’d shown only caution instead of fear in the presence of his wolf, despite her upbringing, he had dared to hope even more. His wolf had stayed still for the encounter, despite being nearly mindless with the desire to knock her over and slobber her with kisses. Then, as a man, he’d trembled when the witch had confessed her devotion: “I love you too, Allen Chase.”

Spirits above, he felt like a pup again, foolish and energetic and carefree.