Amid the Winter Snow

As if he had lit a fire under her, she jumped to her feet. “Just a moment—I’m coming!” she shouted. She glanced at the chocolate wrappers, the can, and the empty jars strewn on the floor and threw up her hands. Then she whirled to look at his equipment by the wall. Pointing to an open doorway, she hissed, “Quick—grab your stuff and go into my bedroom!”

Even as he sprang into action, he bit back a smile. Yes, it might have been a risk, but he had known he could rely on her. Scooping up his things, he loped through the doorway into a darkened room, glided quietly to a stop against one wall, and listened.

Wood scraped as she unbarred and opened the door. “What is it, Margot?”

Ah, the Chosen’s ever-annoying prime minister. Wulf rubbed his chin with the back of one hand. She was quite the perpetual asshole, that one.

“You didn’t come down for supper, so I wanted to check on you, to see if you’re all right,” Margot said. “Honey, have you been crying?”

“Yes,” Lily said. “And no, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Are you sure? I’m here if you need me.”

“I know you are.” Lily’s voice warmed. “And that means a lot to me. Right now I just need to be by myself. It’s hard to wait, you know?”

“I do know.” Margot’s own voice was somber. “Can I at least send someone up with a supper tray?”

“Not tonight. I ate some snacks, so I’m not hungry.” She said firmly, “Thank you for checking on me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“All right.” When he didn’t hear the sound of the door closing right away, he could sense that Margot lingered, reluctant to leave. “Good night, Lily. Try to get some sleep.”

“You too.”

There was a rustle of clothing, then, finally, the sound of the door latching followed by the thump of the bar dropping into place.

When Wulf strolled out, he found Lily leaning against the door with her forehead pressed to it, shoulders slumped. She looked so dejected, he set his equipment to one side, strode over, and pulled her into his arms.

Margot was not the only perpetual asshole. He was one too.

He had come all this way to fight with Lily, but he had come for other reasons too. He wanted to finish that conversation they had started back in his tent. He had been intent on seduction because she didn’t get to leave him. He’d leave her when he was done with her.

Only now he couldn’t. He recognized all the cues that told him if he pushed, he might still have her for the night. After first stiffening, she turned into his hold and rested her head on his shoulder, and the trust in that gesture tied him more irrevocably than any of her invisible boundaries.

If he pushed her now, she might succumb, but her heart and mind were so weighed by other matters he might also lose her afterward, and if he did lose her, it would only be what he deserved. Besides, he didn’t want to be that kind of selfish man.

He said into her hair, “I can’t solve all your problems. I can’t make it better. I couldn’t save that mining town. I couldn’t protect my brother, and I don’t want to stop what I intend to do next. But if you’ll let me, I can hold you for a little while. I would very much like to do that.”

Slowly her arms stole around his waist. He was ferociously glad of that, and proud of how she leaned against him now, and determined to be worthy of it.

She whispered, “I would like that too.”

Walking her back to the sitting area, he coaxed her onto the couch, and when she sat beside him, he pulled her into his arms again. Tentatively, they explored this strange new definition, her slender body fitting against his much longer frame, her head resting on his shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

As they settled, something happened to Wulf, something he hadn’t seen coming. For so long, he had carried a hard, cold knot of rage in his chest. He had grown so used to living with it, he only just became aware of its existence again as it warmed and eased into something that felt remarkably like comfort.

Damn it. He had meant to comfort her. Turned out, she was comforting him. He remembered the sick drop in his gut when he realized Kris had died, thought of his brother’s missing body, and his eyes grew damp.

Tightening his arms, he held her and they watched the bright flames in the fireplace. After a while, he realized there wasn’t any stacked wood nearby. Neither of them had done anything to fuel the fire, yet it crackled as if it had been newly started, and the logs still looked quite fresh.

It was just one of the many miracles that hovered about Lily like fireflies glowing in the dark, and for the first time in his life, Wulf prayed.

I want her, he said to Camael as he stared fiercely into the flames. In fact, I want her more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. She might be your Chosen, but you’d better be prepared to share.

So it wasn’t the most supplicant or reverent prayer ever said, and Wulf wasn’t the pilgrim type. He was who he was.

The goddess didn’t answer.

Of course she didn’t. Gods didn’t talk to him.

But a bolt of lightning didn’t strike him dead either. After a long moment of listening to the peaceful quiet, interrupted only by the snap and crackle of the flames, he counted that as a win.

Lily stirred. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait before we hear anything?”

“There’s no way to know, love. We’ll hear when we hear.” He pressed his lips to her forehead as he debated. Then he said, “If it helps you to know this, I sent my best covert warriors after yours with orders to assist if your people needed it.”

When her shoulders started to shake, he felt a brief alarm until he realized she was laughing. “Why am I even surprised?” she said. “Of course you did. Do you always get your way?”

He tilted his head as he considered that. “I must confess I do.”

She bolted upright and stared at him, eyes wide.

“Surely by now that wasn’t a surprise?” he said, baffled by her reaction.

“No.” She gave him a soft, strange smile. “I guess it wasn’t.”

He touched her cheek. “I want to stay, but I’d better go. You need real rest, and this is not where I’m supposed to be.”

“That’s the most sensible decision you’ve made all evening.” She looked worried. “Are you sure you’ll be able to make that climb and travel across the strait again at night?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you even go there.”

She started to laugh again. “Very well, forget about crossing the strait at night—are you sure you’ll be able to make that climb in the dark?”

“I left the pitons in place. Getting down will be a lot easier than getting up.” He started to smile. “Why, are you concerned about me?”

“Maybe… a little.” She followed him as he gathered up his equipment and strode over to the broken window. “Maybe I don’t want to look out my window in the morning and find your broken body dangling at the end of a rope.”

“Don’t worry. I will be cold but fine.” He paused. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and one cheek bore a crease from his shirt. Setting everything aside, he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her.

Grace Draven, Thea Harrison, Elizabeth Hunter, Jeffe Kennedy's books