Snowspelled (The Harwood Spellbook #1)

But tonight was my last and only chance for more, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything.

We were illicitly and delightfully tangled on his bed ten minutes later, laughing and giddy with shared delight, when he suddenly pulled back, panting hard, and stared down at me. His shirt was off by then, revealing delicious, warm brown skin and shockingly soft dark hair that curled invitingly against my questing fingers. I wanted to explore every inch of it, but he shook his head at me, his long, black hair slipping over his face as he supported himself on his fisted hands.

“Wait a minute,” he gasped. “We have to think this through. We can’t—we don’t have time for—”

“We don’t have time,” I agreed fervently, and reached up to cup his beautiful, beloved face in both of my hands. “Wrexham, I have thought. Trust me, I’ve done nothing but think all through this past week, and so have you! We aren’t going to solve this mystery tonight, or find a way to break my promise without breaking the treaty.”

“Curse the treaty,” Wrexham snarled. “We’ll just leave, now—”

“And let the whole nation suffer for it? Really?” Emotion welled up inside me as I saw the torment in his expression. “You’re an officer of the Boudiccate,” I said softly. “You know we cannot let that happen. No, I made a promise to the elf-lord’s pet, and now I’ll pay for it...but then you will find a way to get me back if it’s humanly possible. Won’t you?”

Wrexham clenched his jaw and didn’t answer...but the muscles in his bare arms, which were braced around me, tightened in a way that was entirely distracting.

“Listen to me!” I told him in my most peremptory tone. “I threw away the last two months that we could have spent together. But now, at least, we have tonight. Are you really going to waste it hurling curses at Lord Ihlmere? Or are you finally going to make some use of the time that we’ve been given?”

“Make some use?” A gleam of humor appeared in Wrexham’s eyes. A sigh rippled through his body...as it lowered infinitesimally toward me. His warm chest brushed against mine.

I caught my breath, every muscle in my body tightening with anticipation.

“Was that a challenge, by any chance, Harwood?” my fiancé inquired in a silky, dangerous tone.

Satisfaction rippled through me as I arched shamelessly toward him, savoring every single point of connection. “You’ve met every challenge in your life so far,” I breathed. “Why don’t you do it this time, too?”

He did.

I didn’t manage much sleep that night, but my body still hummed with warmth and sweet, unfamiliar sensations as I arose the next morning from my own bed, to which I’d finally returned. Flashes of memory accompanied me like fleeting shadows behind my eyelids, overlaying each moment as I moved—Wrexham’s strong, sensitive fingers stroking with aching tenderness across my skin; his expression as he’d gazed up at me...

I blinked again, and my vision was ruthlessly clear.

The curtains had been opened while I slept. Snow fell beyond the windowpanes in an endless white flurry, too thick for me to even glimpse the rugged hills and massive, sleeping trolls who lurked beyond.

Somewhere out there in the midst of that unnatural storm, Lord Ihlmere himself was certainly waiting for his moment. The only question, now, was exactly how I would choose to give it to him.

I had come to a new conclusion last night after all, in the midst of that warm, enchanted bubble of privacy and exploration and unimagined possibilities.

I’d cast that final, catastrophic spell on my own four months ago to prove to myself and to everyone else that I was too strong to ever need any help. Then I’d driven Wrexham away for his own good two months later...or so I’d told myself at the time. But in the end, I wasn’t the only one who’d been punished by that misguided decision.

There were perfectly good, persuasive reasons not to tell my family the truth of what was happening today, and I’d let those reasons guide every one of my decisions over this past week. But in the middle of last night, as I’d opened myself completely, one final, unexpected consideration had blossomed within me...and in this morning’s clear, unforgiving light, it overwhelmed all the rest.

I wouldn’t shut out the people I loved anymore. That wasn’t strength or courage after all. And if I only had a few hours left of freedom, I refused to spend them giving in to fear once again.

I was carrying my three final, personal letters with me when I tapped on Amy and Jonathan’s door a few minutes later. They felt slippery in my hands as I fidgeted, my feet shifting against the carpeted floor and my own breath loud in my ears. A pair of guests passed behind me: Mr. Luton’s aunt and a friend, from the sounds of it, murmuring together. I didn’t bother to turn and greet them. I was too busy with my own internal calculations.

If my family was already downstairs, should I bring the letters down, too? I couldn’t simply slip them under the door; that would be cowardly. And yet...

The door swung open, and my older brother grinned down at me. “Hello, sleepyhead. I didn’t see you at breakfast.” He stepped aside, resplendent in unusual finery: his best forest-green waistcoat, a non-crumpled cravat, and hair that had clearly just been brushed. “Come in, come in. I’ve just been regaling Amy with some fascinating new details I gleaned from Miss Fennell’s scrolls.”

“Delightful,” I said, as dryly as I could manage. I closed my hands harder around my letters as I stepped inside.

Amy was changing her earrings at the dressing table, but she aimed a bright smile at me in the mirror. “Hello, darling! Do you think these ear bobs look appropriately festive for the solstice ceremony? I may be dragged in as a substitute after all if Lady Frampton doesn’t make it through this dreadful storm.”

“That’s just as well,” I told her. “You know she’d only spend the whole ceremony sniping back and forth with Mrs. Seabury. They’d probably offend all the elves past bearing.”

But if Amy was actually going to be there to watch...

My fingers squeezed tight into fists, crumpling my letters.

“Fair point,” said Jonathan breezily, as he rearranged a cufflink on his wrist. “But I have been warning Amy, you know, not to let herself get dragged into any private conversations with the elves while she’s there. It’s just as I was telling Miss Fennell yesterday, you see—they’re infamous, especially the elf-lords, for being able to twist their words so well that they can persuade you into foolish bargains if you aren’t careful.”

“Ahh...gghl...” The words I was trying to form turned into a tangle of discomfort in my mouth.

Both my brother and sister-in-law turned toward me with expressions of bright interest.

“All right there, old girl?” Jonathan inquired, raising his eyebrows. “Need a sip of something to clear your throat?”

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