Page 108 of Untethering Dark

Nails drummed against her front door. “Little witch, little witch. Let me in.”

Astrid jolted upright, startled from sleep. She clasped the armrests so hard they creaked and splintered under her new hag strength. She snatched her hands away, eyeing the damaged wood. Scheiße! She loved this chair.

“You smell so delicious.” The voice was dark and decadent, deep like the bowels of a cave. It sent delicious shivers up her spine. “Just a little taste?”

Astrid padded over to the door, heart fluttering in her chest. She curled her claws around the handle. “Are you threatening me with a good time?”

A mirthful rumble followed. “Always.”

Astrid opened the door.

Bloodred eyes met hers, glinting in the dark. It was a cloudy, moonless night, but Astrid saw Gudariks just fine, crouched on her front stoop with his long arms draped over his knees. Bone and antlers caught the barest snatches of warm hue from her fading fire. To a human’s eye, and even a witch’s, it was a negligible amount of light. Hag life, it turned out, came with more than a few helpful perks—better night vision being one of them.

The sweet scent of night blooms wafted between them.

Gudariks’s fur was clean, albeit a bit patchy in places where it was growing back from Heldin’s flames. His skin thankfully no longer looked raw, just red.

“Guten Abend, Liebe.” She smiled, stepping aside. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes.” Gudariks tilted his head just so, keeping his antlers from catching on the doorframe as he ducked inside. “I’ve waited all week for you to ask.”

“So long?” she teased.

“Forever.” He looped an arm around her waist and bent to flick his tongue against her cheek. “Mmm, tasty.”

Laughing, Astrid pushed away and added kindling to the fire, more for light than warmth. “I’m a mess.”

“A very pretty mess.” He wandered the inside of her cottage, taking it in for the first time—but slowly and carefully. For Astrid, her home was cozy. For him, cramped. There was so much he could bump into or knock over with his large form.

In the kitchen, he took a teacup off a shelf, pinching the handle between two claws. His fuzzy, short white tail gave a happy little wag. “It’s so tiny.”

Ach. Her terrifying lover had no right to be this cute.

He pointed at a bottle of healing potion left out on the counter. “How is your throat, Liebling?”

“Sore,” she answered truthfully. But at least she no longer tasted ash every time she breathed. Perchta’s skill as a potion-maker and Astrid’s new hag metabolism were working wonders. “Please help yourself.”

“I’ll take all the help I can get.”

Astrid smiled behind her hand as she watched him pour a portion into the teacup and daintily lift it, tipping the liquid into his mouth. All these unexpected little things endeared him to her. What more might she discover in the centuries to come?

Amusement twinkled in his gaze. He set down the cup and prowled toward her on all fours. “What’s so funny, meine Hexechen?”

He backed her into the next room, where her clawfoot tub awaited.

“Nothing,” she squeaked, the backs of her legs hitting the edge. Water steamed off the surface, spelled to stay heated. Home and hearth magic wasn’t something she lost when she became a hag.

He plucked at the hem of her nightdress. “Will you miss this?”

“There’s no saving it...”

Fabric tore. The rounded backs of Gudariks’s claws coasted down her skin as he ripped the ruined garment away. Tenderness and hunger lived side by side in his touch.

She cupped his bony cheek, marveling how he felt warmer to her now. There had always been a lovely contrast between them—his heat to her cold—but it was starker now. Though, no less pleasant.

His tongue flicked against her bare belly. “Get in the tub, Liebe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The water hissed and crackled as she sank into the tub. Cold as ice wasn’t an exaggeration... Astrid leaned back and sighed, relieved that hot water was still enjoyable. As powerful and invigorating as the winter elements made her feel, this was so very good in a different way.

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