Page 47 of Untethering Dark

The corner of his mouth where flesh met bone quirked upward. “I understand the feeling.”

“I don’t like being bested,” she continued, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face with a frustrated huff. It stubbornly fell back over an eye. “Especially not by some random creep.”

Gudariks delicately whisked away the wayward lock and tucked it behind her ear, the rounded side of his claws brushingher cheek. “If he thought he could best you, he would’ve met you head-on.”

Frustration was quickly replaced by riotous fluttering in her belly.

Choosing touch rather than words, Astrid scooted in close to rest her head on his shoulder and took his hand, so large, she could only wrap her hand around two of his fingers. If he wasn’t going to be shy about showing his affections, neither would she.

Gudariks’s heart threatened to burst straight out of his rib cage. And his stomach right along with it. What funny things the weight of Astrid’s head on his shoulder did to his insides. Lust he understood. It was so much like hunger. But this was something else. Something new but just as thrilling. “So small,” he murmured, enclosing her hand in both of his. “So fierce.”

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Astrid could protect herself. But there was also a fathomless well of rage simmering just beneath the surface and a need to shield her from any being who might wish her harm.

He inhaled deeply.

All that kept him from a merciless rampage was the witch herself. The firm, exploratory touch of her hand—the one he didn’t hold in his—was an icy balm to his overheated flesh. Her fingers danced over his knuckles to the veins that lined the back of his hand, mapping out each one. If he left to hunt, he would miss this, and he wanted every second she deigned to give him.

“I think you like that about me,” she teased, meeting his gaze with her pretty, mismatched eyes. One slate gray, like the water beneath thin ice. The other so pale its color was little more than swirls of smoke and mountain fog. Oh, how quickly he was coming to adore them.

“There’s nothing I don’t like about you.” Starting at her temple, Gudariks traced a slow path with his knuckle down to the curve of her mouth.

Her lips parted slightly.

Those little bows of flesh were mesmerizing in a way he could not explain. He wanted to kiss them, and the desire struck him all too hard for something done with parts he did not possess. Half scolding, half in wonder, he growled, “What are you doing to me, little witch?”

Her gaze dipped, then met his eyes again. “Could ask you the same.” Her voice was a breathless whisper.

Carefully, so not to strike her with his antlers, he tilted his head and leaned in.Just a little taste.

Jingling sleigh bells, rapidly approaching, broke them apart.

Astrid shot to her feet, ax back in hand, and he crouched on all fours, ready to lunge.

But it was Mutter’s sleigh that came into view.

The ashen tendrils of Perchta’s hair whipped back, her cheeks rosy, as her sleigh team raced across the snow, but when she saw them, she drew up short with a surprised expression. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Astrid relaxed her stance, and so he did, too, and listened while she recounted the break-in.

All light and warmth vacated Perchta’s gaze. Very little else had changed about her demeanor, her posture remained relaxed, but between the steeliness in her eyes and the sharp spike in her scent, the esteemed hag was livid. And yet, perfectly calm, and even toned when she asked, “Would you like to sleep at my place tonight?”

Astrid shook her head. “I appreciate the offer.” Her grip tightened on her ax, anger flaring. “Maybe I should be scared, but I dare him to come back.”

“Be careful, Tochter. Humans have a wicked bite.”

“I know,” Astrid said. “I’ll use his cigarettes to make new wards. He’ll burn before he even feels the swing of my ax.”

What had stung and irritated Gudariks’s own skin just days ago would be lethal to the human.

“Good. And a protection charm for yourself, too. If he took your hair, you can be sure there’ll be spell work to follow.” With a tug of the reins, Perchta turned her sleigh team around. “The hag potion will be ready tomorrow morning. Come bright and early. The sooner we get started, the better.”

“Yes, Mutter.” Astrid bowed her head.

While her daughter’s eyes were averted, Perchta’s yellow, wolfish gaze met his. “Watch over her,” she mouthed.

He nodded.

The sleigh team shot off, leaving them alone once more. Astrid muttered something grumpily about her mother’s timing.Ah, yes, they had been getting close to something.

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