Page 42 of The Blood Queen

Anson nodded as he stepped away from the table. His shoulders were tense.

“Anson,” I called out before he reached the stairs. “Did you ever visit the Gemini Witches?”

“It’s a rite of passage. Every wolf tests himself.”

“What did they tell you?”

The muscle jolted in his jaw, but he didn’t answer.

That non-answer bothered me throughout the dinner with Leo. Afterward, we exchanged small gifts wrapped in red paper. A knitted scarf from Hattie. A carved wooden replica of a bow from Oscar, with tiny arrows. Leo handed me a book he’d bought from a quaint stand in the Farmer’s Market. I gave them all the same thing: plates of cookies I’d baked that afternoon. I wasn’t much of a baker and hoped the cookies weren’t rock hard. But they assured me each bite was delicious. Hattie said they’d be perfect, dunked in hot tea, and we’d hugged each other when it was time to leave.

Hugged like people who had once been close, but suddenly felt awkward, as if dressed in difficult skins.

The headache that had threatened all afternoon thudded heavily behind my eyes as Anson’s private guard walked me home.

The apartment overlooking the Alpha’s Woods was beautiful, even though it was cold and often too silent. I dragged a blanket from the bed, curled on the couch. Real snow fell outside, not a simulation. Moonlight reflected as clouds moved, and the outside looked like a fantastical world filled with faeries and magic. Between the trees, new lights punctured the dark, flicking on—lanterns marking the way. Coming closer.

I leaned forward, my hands gripping the blanket, a strange anticipation fluttering as a figure emerged…

A male in a thick coat, stomping through the snow. A lantern swung when he held it high. He kicked a path to the sliding glass doors, and when he pounded against the glass, my nerves jolted.

But it was only Anson.

“Good gods.” I jerked on the heavy glass door to slide it open, ignoring the little energy jab. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m fecking freezing,” he groused. “Get a coat.”

“I’m not going out there.”

“Yes, you are.” An Alpha order that I obeyed. It was the least I could do after the grief I’d given him that afternoon.

Bundled in the heaviest coat from the closet, but without gloves, I tried not to shiver when the cold hit. But the Alpha’s Woods had turned magical with the gently falling snow—like walking through an empty cathedral designed by nature. Enlivened by the wonky Carmag magic.

The beauty in the lanterns caught my breath. Each one was made of brass and hung from carved, arched posts—fixtures that were centuries old—edging the snowy pathway the way flowers edged a center aisle at a wedding.

We wove through the trees, past a frozen creek with a trickle of water. Icicles clung to the lips of rocky ledges in a grotto Caerwen would love.

On and on we walked, the snow kicking up from Anson’s booted feet. Our breath puffed in cloudy streams. I pulled the coat higher around my ears, tucked in my chin. Lanterns glittered, the flames burning behind cut-glass panels, reflecting shards of light. Mysterious and silent.

And there, beneath the giant oak tree, a man waited. His blonde hair gleamed like a halo.

“Noa,” Mace said.

I froze, my heart exploding in my throat. “He’s…”

“Fine… but he needs you.”

My attention dashed from Mace to Anson—who gripped my icy hand, held it to his lips. “Don’t say I never gave you a gift, Noa. It’s Christmas Eve. Go to him.”

I stumbled. Righted myself.

And then I ran.

CHAPTER 10

Noa

We left the Alpha’s Woods through a postern gate and followed the escape route used by alphas for centuries. Mace held my hand as we entered the dark passage, waiting while I breathed and told myself this wasn’t a tunnel beneath High Citadel. There’d be no hybrids hiding in the corners. No vampires. No pathetic piles of tattered clothing and bones to step around.

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