Page 9 of Embers in the Snow

I climb the rickety steps and haul myself back into the cramped carriage, pulling my snow-encrusted skirts up behind me. The smell of woodsmoke reaches my nose, but it gives me little comfort.

Night has fallen, and the winter chill is stealing through the air, right into my very bones.

It doesn’t matter, though.

Tomorrow, I’ll be sleeping in a castle.

I’ll become the Lady Duthriss.

I’ll endure whatever my husband throws at me.

And maybe…

No. Don’t you even dare think of that.

3

FINLEY

Thud.

I’m jolted out of sleep by a strange noise.

The horses stir. Several of them let out panicked snorts. Those nearest to me whinny in a high-pitched tone.

Clutching my blankets close to my chest, I sit up and stare out the window.

It’s still dark outside.

The campfire has burned down to embers. It casts a faint orange glow across the clearing.

My breath mists. It’scold.

A deep growl reverberates through the windows.

The fine hairs on my arms stand on end. What wasthat?

Shadows move through the dim glow. Men grunt. The growls become louder.

Someone shouts; a guttural, unintelligible sound, laced with pure fear.

“At arms, men!”

I catch a glimpse of something passing across the firelight. Something big and hulking and furry; the shape of a wolf, only it’s much bigger than any wolf I’ve ever seen.

There’s not one, butthreeof them.

These aren’t wolves. They’remonsters.

The soldiers are up; swords raised. They’re wearing no armor at all, because they’ve been asleep in their bedrolls.

I count three men. Another is down; a dark, lifeless shape beside the fire.

The wolf-creatures become a blur.

One of the horses goes down with a high-pitched whinny, its large body crashing onto the snow with a heavythud.

The others are pulling hard against their restraints, trying to get away.

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