Page 45 of Untethering Dark

She waved a hand, back and forth. It didn’t so much as twitch a muscle.

Odd little bird.

Chapter Sixteen

Night came and went, sleep aided by magically enhanced chamomile. The question of when to bring up the final hag ritual to Gudariks was a pesky little thorn in Astrid’s mind, but it was too soon to lose sleep over it. Not until final preparations began, at least.

They should take things at their own pace. Savor the early days of what was beginning to feel like a courtship and not let outside pressures dictate what they did and when. Time wasn’t in short supply for either of them, especially once Astrid achieved her lifelong hag goals.

Sitting at the edge of her bed, she brushed out her hair in long, measured strokes from root to tip, musing whether Gudariks might like a clipped lock for himself. A little keepsake tied neatly in ribbon.

But Astrid was no shy Victorian maiden.

The way he ran his fingers through it the first time they met, and again last night, lingering with the touch each time...there was nothing casual or accidental about it, and she’d sooner invite him to do so again.

Claws curling around her hair, taking it by the fistful before tugging her head back...bloodred eyes staring down at her, hungry and wanting.

Shaking her head, she set the brush on her nightstand. She was getting ahead of herself. Wooing, first, then seduction.Savor this. Savor him.

Any more romantic daydreaming would have to wait. There was more kindling to gather.

Astrid climbed down from the loft that was her bedroom and donned her winter gear.

As she trudged out into the snow, ax in hand, a flutter of black wings caught her eye, and she looked up just in time to see a crow flying off into the tree canopy. Whether it was the same bird as the night before or another, she couldn’t say.

She set off into the woods, pulling a wooden sled behind her.

For the next hour, she hunted for small, fallen branches and twigs, brushing off the snow and loading them onto the sled in neat stacks. Soon she’d have enough to refill her kindling box.

A quiet jingling brought her efforts to a stop.

Mutter’s sleigh? No, too tinny.

Then what...

The tinkling bells grew louder.

Her warning spell.

Someone was on her property.

Leaving the sled behind, Astrid ran as fast as the deep snows and awkwardness of snowshoes allowed. If it was one of the poachers, what were they doing at her cottage? Looking to steal supplies? Food? Whatever the case may be, she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass by.

Capture, question, and depending on how gracious she was feeling, release to Johanna’s custody or...

Hack to little pieces.

Drawing near, Astrid circled her home in a wide perimeter, scanning the area for movement amongst the trees, in her yard, her cottage, anything to indicate the trespassers were still there. Fritz and Liesel were in their pen, contently munching hay. At least her unwanted visitor had left them alone.

A neat little row of gray flecks led right to her front gate like dirty breadcrumbs. She crouched down, touching a finger to the material, coming away sooty.Ash. And there was a new setof footprints, too. Booted feet bigger than hers and treads she didn’t recognize.

Rising to her feet, she went to unlatch the gate, only to find that a cigarette had been put out and left behind on the gatepost. The footprints continued straight to her front door.

Frost coated her palms as cold, hard anger steeled her nerves to a knifepoint.

How dare he.

Ax held at the ready, Astrid silently followed the cigarette-smoking poacher’s footprints inside her house, and finding it empty, crept up the ladder to her bedroom loft, quiet as a mouse. If he was dumb enough to stay...

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