Page 82 of Untethering Dark

On one such morning, outside Perchta’s home, she was forming a jagged ice spear between outstretched hands, trying to smooth its edges, when a shadow darkened the corner ofher eye. A shiver born of instinct, rather than fear or cold, ran through her body, every nerve ending sparked, alert and poised for action.

With Mutter and Oskar out patrolling the forest boundary, refortifying the containment spell, Astrid was completely alone.

If Heldin and her minions dared sneak up on her...

Rotating her hands, the spear spun, and with the snap of the wrist, she hurled it at the figure.

But as she turned into the throw, a long, clawed hand batted the projectile away, shattering the deadly icicle into pieces against the gargantuan tree Perchta called home, and it was then that she saw who joined her.

“Excellent shot, Liebling.” Genuine mirth rumbled beneath the thundering bellow of Gudariks’s voice, the first in the days since they learned of Heldin’s return.

Her hands flew to her temples. “Sorry!”

“I should’ve announced myself.” He slunk toward her on all fours, a twinkle in his eye. “A difficult habit to shake.”

Something about this low approach set off all the alarm bells in Astrid’s body. Just as she iced over the ground between them, he lunged, swooping her up into his arms. Hooves scrabbled on ice, and she lurched forward, landing on top of him with a grunt.

Gudariks’s whole body shook beneath her, his great antlered head tipped back in an avalanche of laughter. It stunned her into silence. Seeing him like this, so open and relaxed, felt sacred.

What beautiful music his joy made.

“Clever Hexe.” His arms looped around her waist. “I can feel your power, and it’s already grown twentyfold. You’ve always been a force of nature, but what a fearsome creature you’ll become when this is all said and done. You’re my match in every way.”

She rested her chin within the fold of her arms on his chest. “Your match,” she repeated. It wasn’t a question, but she marveled at the thought that he’d find her power noteworthy.

His head lulled languidly to the side, a roaming hand slipping beneath her sweater, and he met her gaze with a blazing heat that reduced her to ice melt. “Undoubtedly.”

She was a puddle in his arms.

That can’t be good for my health as a Winter Hexe.

An odd buzzing sound snagged Gudariks’s attention away from Astrid’s diligent training. It sounded like a bee, but this was a season too early. The critters should be nestled within their hives, sleeping off the cold.

Tilting his head up, he inhaled deeply.

Humans. But familiar, friendly ones.

“What is it?”

“Your friends must be setting up their traps,” he said. “Would you like to join them?”

Astrid nodded, the whirlwind of snow she’d summoned settling to the ground. “I could use a break.”

It was just Johanna and Suri at the site when they arrived—the former setting trip lines between the trees, the latter tinkering with a contraption. Both paused to wave as they approached.

“Is that the drone?” Astrid crouched beside Suri, pointing to the strange device. It looked like a giant spider but was missing half of its legs.

“Ever seen one?”

“From a distance, but never up close.”

The next comment was directed to him. “It flies, so don’t freak out.” Suri held up an oddly shaped black brick. “And thisis the remote control I use to direct it.” They pressed something on the device and the four blades on top began to spin. Despite the heads-up, he tensed as it lifted off the ground, emitting that relentless buzzing sound he heard earlier. Hunter’s instinct sparked the desire to swat it out of the air, but he restrained himself.

Fascinating.

As it zipped through the air, Suri pointed at the two canisters rigged to the underside, then at their remote. “This button tells it to release the bear spray—which will give a large group a very bad time, as long as none of our people are on-site, of course. And this one tells it to release the regular pepper spray—better for a targeted approach.”

Gudariks tracked the buzzing machine’s course, head jerking this way and that, following its every movement. At one point, it almost collided with a crow, circling in the sky overhead, the poor bird unused to having to contend with such an obstacle.

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