backing out. She could be exiled. Some of her family would probably stay and some would follow her, but either way it would tear them down the middle. And the healer Christian’s clan had exchanged in this bargain was already three years married, happily, with a child on the way. There was no easy way out and it would be incredibly selfish to run.
“He could come to love me, right?”
Audrey’s eyes softened but before she could speak, the nearest door was thrown open. A blast of cold air flooded the room.
One of the counselor crows entered at a dead run, clothed in nothing but feathers and darkness. Passing within a few feet of their table, she went directly to the Odin, who met her near the center of the room.
“My God—” Audrey whispered. “She’s not even fully changed. She must have just hit the ground.”
As a hush fell over the room, Grace pulled a long wool coat from the rack and came up behind the girl, wrapping it around her shoulders. The crow barely noticed. She was a slender woman who appeared to be in her late teens, though age was tricky with crows. Eighteen or eight hundred years old, it was impossible to tell. She had jet-black hair with the tips dyed a deep purple color. The fine down that covered her skin gradually disappeared as they watched. Raquel could see the magic of her transformation contract until it lay like a sheen of sweat on her skin.
The crow spoke urgently to Aiden, but Audrey and Raquel weren’t close enough to hear what she said. Fen and Christian hurried over to the group. The two men formed a protective wall behind the crow, blocking her from view.
After a moment, Aiden’s face lifted and he searched the crowd. His gaze locked on Raquel and she stood, thinking it was a summons. But he dismissed her with a glance and turned to speak with Christian. Christian nodded and separated from the group. Fen placed his arm around the crow’s narrow shoulders and led her to the door.
Expression grim, Christian came to a stop before Raquel. “I have to go. There’s been a surge.”
“A surge? Now?” Audrey asked, shocked.
Christian kept his gaze fixed on Raquel. “It’s a small one. You can stay here and meet the rest of the town, enjoy your time with your family. I’ll see you in the morning.” He paused. “We’ll talk then.”
She caught the look in his eye, cautious but determined. Damn it, Fen
He smiled and it was like sunshine through the clouds. Beautiful, beautiful man. “Always.”
She watched him leave, turning to track his progress through the room. People pulled their chairs out of his way so he could pass. When he reached the metal door, he pushed through it without a backward glance and was gone. The other huntsmen filed out behind him. A gust of cold touched her even from across the room. She was still staring at the door when Lois and Grace approached, her mother only a step behind.
“How can there be a surge
Grace looked unhappy about being left behind to explain, but it was Lois who answered first. “The portal is unstable.” Lois shot Grace a dirty look. “Maybe now your husband will let me have my apprentice before the ceremony.”
“The wedding is in three weeks,” Grace said, turning so that her body was between Raquel and Lois in a protective stance. Raquel had only spoken to Lois once, briefly, and she was beginning to suspect that was an intentional strategy on the part of clan Ragnarok. The way Fen had said Lois’s name suggested he didn’t care for her much. “Let them have this time.”
“It’s too soon for there to be another surge,” Raquel’s mother said, voice turning shrill. “Grace? If there’s something wrong here, then we deserve to know about it. Aiden never hinted that there was a problem. I won’t have my daughter placed at unnecessary risk.”
“Unnecessary risk?” Lois scoffed. “She’s the clan witch. Risk comes with the territory.”
“She’s not a member of your clan yet.”
Raquel could feel Lois gather power. Not much—it might have been an instinctive defensive reaction—but she didn’t know Lois well enough to be sure. She was also excruciatingly aware that everyone’s attention had turned toward them. A crowd of stranger’s faces—hostile, amused, sympathetic, all of them unfamiliar.
“Mom,” Raquel said quietly, touching her arm to get her attention. Her mother had a short temper during the best of times. The stress of the wedding hadn’t improved that trait and this... “Calm down, please. This isn’t Lois’s fault, not the problem or them keeping it a secret.
“What?”
“I knew about the portal. It’s one of the reasons why they were so anxious to complete the ceremony now rather than wait for spring like we’d originally planned.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me?”
Raquel held up her hand. “Don’t look at me like that, I just learned of it myself. But this isn’t the time or place to discuss it. Maybe tomorrow we can all sit down and put our cards on the table before anyone starts making accusations about who should know what.”
Her mother’s pursed lips spoke volumes about how much she enjoyed having that cast in her face. She’d been the one to insist that Raquel not tell Christian about her little problem until after the ceremony. While Raquel had planned to tell him anyway, this...complicated things.
“The coven is meeting in my shop tomorrow at noon,” Lois said. “It would be good if you could take a few minutes away from your busy schedule to help us figure out a way to save the clan.”
Grace winced as Lois stomped toward the kitchen. She shook her head and then smiled at Raquel apologetically. “Lois might be difficult for a time until she adjusts to the idea of a more powerful witch in her territory. I’ll speak with her.”
Raquel couldn’t see how that would possibly help, but she nodded anyway. This fight would be between Lois and her. It had to be. Preferably, they’d be able to settle it without bloodshed.
“I’m sorry about all this.” Grace’s gaze swept the hall before returning to her. “We can have another party this weekend and—”
“No,” she said, too quickly judging by the way Grace’s eyes sharpened. Raquel softened her voice. “That won’t be necessary. This was lovely. Thank you for it.”
Grace gave her a wobbly smile. “Well then, welcome to Ragnarok. We are really happy to have you here.”
Humans called his kind wolves, the ?sir called them Odin’s hounds. They ran with the hunt, killing the demons that had destroyed their home and now chased them through cracks in the fault line between worlds. In oldentimes the hunt hadn’t bothered to hide themselves and if, occasionally, humans saw them and called them gods or ghosts or faeries, what of it? Legends arose wherever they settled. The Wild Hunt, Wilde Jagd, Woden’s Hunt, stvani, Estantiga, Asgardsreia. Now they did their best to avoid notice, casting glamour over weapons and horses, armor and of course the riders themselves.
His mother had been a rider, a huntswoman. She’d had the poor judgment to wed a hound, bond him to her and give birth to a son. Hounds only sired sons, all of them cursed to assume the same role in the clan as their fathers. Fen wasn’t miserable enough to regret his birth, only the circumstances of it. And times like these when he was flying through the woods, a streak of shadow and legend, feet barely touching the earth and the wind cutting through his fur, he couldn’t even bring himself to regret that.
The half-moon was high and bright, casting stark shadows through the bare branches of the trees. The demon darting through the woods ahead of him was fast but poorly adapted to this world, blinded by moonlight and sliding on the dead leaves that covered the frozen earth. Fen stretched his body, pulled himself forward with his forepaws and launched himself onto the demon’s back, clamping his jaws around its neck and severing the main artery. He pulled away from the spurt of blood. Still it numbed his tongue, ice cold and bitter. He let saliva wash the taste from his mouth and swung his head wide looking for more prey.
