Winter's Bite (The Crimson Winter Reverse Harem Series Book 2)

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Vision clicked into my place from one of my wolves from the cover of a tree and blowing snow behind me. In front of my rigid form stood a girl, maybe five or six, with two blonde ponytails and startlingly blue eyes that were filled with tears. A cat slinked out from under my coat, a black spot amid pure white, completely oblivious to winter. The cat lurched to a stop as its vivid green eyes met my wolf's. Its fur along its back bristled even as the wind blew it sideways, and it bared its fangs, crouching to pounce.

  Whirling, I dove for it and snatched it up before it could fight a losing battle. Not that my wolves would hurt it, I didn’t think, but because this cat didn’t seem to understand threats.

  I thrust it toward the child awkwardly, the thing writhing in my hands like I'd set its feet on fire.

  "Thanks," the girl said, tears in her voice as she took it. "Ribbons, you're a darn inbred runt for doing that."

  "Gibby, what are you doing with the door o…pen?"

  My vision blinked out again, but not before I glimpsed a woman with silky golden hair like her daughter's cascading over the shoulders of a long wool dress. I'd never seen anything like it with its square cut neck, belted waist, long, bell sleeves, and a slight flare from the fabric at her hips. I'd never seen anything like her. She was beautiful.

  "Gibby, get away from them." Tension rang from the woman's tone and ran a corkscrew through the entire cabin. Her accent was like Lager’s, only slightly thicker.

  Them. I felt their presence close in behind me, my protective wolves turned human. Sasha, too, squirming against the back of my shoulder from inside Grady’s coat.

  "She saved Ribbons," the girl cried.

  "Get. Away," the woman said through clenched teeth and dragged the girl behind her. 'What do you want? We don't have much given the season."

  "Your husband,” I said, taking a guess. "Where is he?"

  "Is—is he in some kind of trouble?"

  I bit down on my tongue, sensing the little girl's eyes on me. Despite the revenge I craved, she was an innocent like I had been. Or…still was. Also like me, she hadn't chosen her father or mother.

  I angled away from the open door, my steps purposeful but not threatening, using my bow to help guide me. Archer and Grady followed, closing the door behind them.

  "Your husband took something from me."

  "Wh-what? There must be some mistake. He's a good man."

  From the glimpses I'd seen here, I couldn't argue. They appeared healthy and warm. Even the cat that was now sniffing and padding around my boots. This woman likely didn't know what her husband had been up to in order to provide for them. Really, if I allowed myself to think it, he'd done what I tried to do—keep my family alive. I shook my head, though, because that would make us too much alike.

  "Is he here?" Grady asked, his voice low.

  "No. He said he'd try to get here when he could, but this weather… We're not from here, and we didn’t expect it to be like this."

  "Where did he say he was going?" Archer, in that smooth way of his, made it sound as if they were old friends, a ploy to bait her in.

  "Well…he said he had a business opportunity in Margin's Row but that he'd have to travel a bit to make it work."

  I fished the glass jar of moonshine and wolfsbane out of my pocket and held it up. "This is the business opportunity."

  "What is it?"

  The jar weighted my palm with burdens of the past and future, so I tucked it away again out of sight. My wolves relaxed some when I did. "Poison."

  Quiet fell, heavy with shock. The woman really had no idea who her husband was.

  "Poison for whom?" she whispered.

  "For us," Archer answered. "Most everyone I know is dead because of it."

  "But…if he took it from you, then you made the poison. Not him. He probably didn't even know what it was."

  "He knew,” I assured her. “He sold it to a man in Old Man's Den. A bad man who wants control of the Crimson Forest."

  "No, he couldn't have known,” she insisted. “He would never harm anyone. He has a family."

  "He shot my father. He threatened to kill me violently."

  "You're lying," she fired back.

  Behind her, the girl whimpered.

  "Maybe so. Maybe I'm making this whole thing up because I have nothing better to do on a winter day. Or maybe I'm telling you the truth. Next time you see your husband, ask him why he only has four fingers on one of his hands."

  "Four?"

  "I shot one off. I'm not sorry. When I see him again, I'll do more than that." I turned toward the door, a dark smile on my lips even though this was a total waste of time coming here.

  "No. Wait. Whatever he did, he didn't mean it. Please. If you…if you do something to him, my daughter and I won't survive out here." She stepped toward me and grabbed my shoulders. "I'll do anything. Please."

  I'd heard that same desperation before, inside of me. I didn’t want it to, but it softened my bitterness. We were all trying to survive, weren't we? Every one of us, but some beat down others so they could survive with more. More money, more food, more land, more chances to breed inside the ruby caves. Why though? Why take when you could give? I knew why the second after I wondered. Because everyone cheated and tore each other apart to get ahead. Look at my own family. Baba knew exactly what the poison did, and yet he continued to sell it to Faust. Ama knew the poison would affect me more than her brutal words, and yet she'd forced it down my throat anyway. I wouldn't survive if I played nice. No one would. And yet…

  "Maybe there is something you can do."

  "Anything,” she said, her voice choked with tears.

  "What kind of herbs do you have?"

  "Herbs? Um, the usual. Cinnamon, ginger, rosemary… Why?”

  "Those might work." They wouldn't, but I wanted to dangle a slice of hope in front of her since she might prove useful in other ways, namely luring Lager here. Besides, we had nowhere else to go for the moment. "Give us a minute outside."

  We strode through the door, and now that the fire kindled by thoughts of revenge had died some, the chill shook me harder.

  We entered a barn several feet from the cabin, not any warmer than outside, and piled with snow on the ground due to the door that wouldn’t close right. Horses pawed the ground from near the back. They must've been freezing. Frustration steamed out with my sigh. I doubted they had enough hay and blankets for winter.

  When we were several steps inside, Archer asked, "What are you thinking, Aika?"

  "I'm thinking about Sasha. She needs to heal, I need warmth, and we all need food and rest. If Lager's wife thinks it'll help her husband, she'll give all of that to us."

  "How are you going to convince her that feeding us, and you, the woman who shot off his finger, will save her husband?"

  "I'll do what he did. I'll lie to her. I'll tell her that if she helps me find a way to better my poison, I'll save her and her daughter from Faust's men’s next attack. We know they’ll be coming after us, but she doesn’t. We’ll make it look like we’re the good guys."

  “Aren’t we?” Archer asked.

  Sometimes I wondered. More specifically, I wondered about me. I might not be a killer yet, but when this was all over, I would be.

  Grady sighed. “And if we don’t save them?”

  Footsteps crunched toward us.

  "I thought you were dead." That was Thomas’s voice, sharp as a thorn.

  "Why would you think that?" Archer asked.

  "Because on the way here, I found the body of a girl. Black hair like yours, Aika. About your size, too, lying face down in the snow."

  Bile kicked up from my stomach and soured my tongue.

  A real beauty, the stranger from the inn had said. But she escaped Margin's slave auction and ran off wearing a thin blue coat. Angered quite a few potential buyers.

  Jade. What if it was Jade?

  Chapter 9

  My thoughts as frenzied as the blowing snow, I marched outside again. "Show me," I t
ried to say, but a sob seized my voice.

  I think you might be smarter than me, Jade had told me once. It’s okay, though. I still love you and will help you take care of your babies in the future.

  I’d snorted. I have a good teacher. And I love you too.

  She’d hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, and I’d proceeded to kick her ass at math tables.

  I'd always thought Jade was my sister, so finding her dead after finding out she was my real half-sister would be ten times worse. A real sister who'd been there for me since before she'd started to talk, nothing but a headache sometimes, but also the only person who acted like they cared most times. She was flawed, but I never once doubted she loved me, unlike my real, whole sister, Jia.

  Jade couldn’t be dead. She had brains enough to know she'd never survive trekking through the Slipjoint Forest in winter. Not after her parents had gotten sick from the cold and then later died. Not after our never-ending preparations for winter that began right after the previous winter. She knew. Yet my heart disintegrated with doubt the farther I walked.

  Even if she knew the risks, it might've been the only choice she felt she had. She might’ve prayed it was better than slavery.

  Archer slipped his hand into mine while Thomas led the way. Grady brought up the rear with Sasha bundled in his coat. I screwed my eyes shut, not wanting to glimpse something I wasn't ready to see yet, and gripped Archer tightly.

  He squeezed back, his touch always a comfort to my unease. "Remember to breathe."

  I shook my head since I was afraid to do anything else.

  "Around…'ere," Thomas said, the wind puncturing his words with holes.

  We rounded the bottom of the hill we'd climbed earlier, this part steeper and harder to navigate around the large boulders. The end of my bow whacked against them, and then we stopped.

  My nerves tied themselves up into knots. I blew out a short breath, and while keeping my eyes closed, I held out my arms for Sasha.

  "Careful of her stitches by her left arm," Grady told me and handed her over.

  Stitches. I swallowed hard as my hands closed over her warm, furry body, some of which was bound with wet cloth. I hadn't been ready to hear about stitches. I wasn't ready for any of this. She went willingly into my arms and licked my chin.

  I nestled her closer, feeling the strength in her heartbeat. If this adorable wolf pup could survive all that she'd been through, so could Jade. I had to believe that.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes. There in the snow lay a girl with one arm outstretched toward Lager's cabin. So close to a warm fire, but not close enough. Black hair swarmed around her head, the only sign of movement. Her bare hands had turned blue, and her thin blue coat and pants clung to her, stiff with a layer of snow.

  She could've been Jade. She could've been anyone, even me if events had played out differently.

  Grady crouched next to her while Archer kept to my side. Thomas stood over the girl, his golden-brown eyes on me.

  "Ready?" Grady asked, his hands on the girl’s shoulders.

  No. No, I would never be ready to stare into the face of a dead girl, yet I had to know. I jerked my head in a nod.

  Gently, he turned her over and smoothed her hair behind her head. Just get it over with, I told myself, then I'd know for sure. After a shallow breath, I steeled my spine and squared my shoulders—then looked closer through Sasha's eyes.

  It wasn't her. Even at first glance, I knew. I'd memorized her face before I went blind, and Jade's full lips curved downward in a natural pout and her long eyelashes seemed to fan across her cheeks when she blinked. This girl, whoever she was, had a slight nose with a mole on one side, a small mouth, and much fewer eyelashes framing her Far Eastern eyes. If anything, she looked more like me, which didn't make me feel much better.

  "It's not her," I choked out and then turned back toward the cabin. The physical effort of coming out here to look had drained me worse than traveling by sleigh. The emotional effort left me shaking. I needed to sit down and not get back up again, at least until my bones had thawed and the possibility of Jade's death had faded.

  Three sets of footsteps followed after me, and after Archer knocked on the cabin door and waited, Archer whispered, "Are you all right?"

  I couldn't answer. The dead girl's face floated at the back of my mind, looking more and more like me. But I'd lost too much already. I couldn't die. I refused to die while I had the chance, however slim, to get back everything I loved. The girl didn't have that chance any longer, and she'd lost more than I had. I imagined there had been great pain and suffering behind her eyes before they'd turned vacant.

  Lager's wife opened the door, and when her gaze landed on Sasha, she let out a yelp. "Is that a wolf?"

  A sob cracked from the back of my throat. My chest heaving, I handed Sasha off to Archer and then buckled to my hands and knees. I vomited in the doorway, and finally, finally with that surge of heated sick, I felt something other than cold.

  My eyes wouldn't stay open, so for days—weeks?—it was easier to keep them closed. Every once in a while, I heard voices murmuring and even laughter. Gibby, I thought, and Archer. Of course he would win her over in a heartbeat. Warmth from a hand, a fleeting touch, grazed my cheek or smoothed my hair, and sometimes a little wet nose or tongue would almost coax me out of this deep sleep. I wanted to wake up, but I was so warm, so relaxed.

  "Are you hungry?" Lager’s wife whispered from far away.

  My stomach answered for me.

  She chuckled and set something down next to me that roused me with its hearty, salty smell.

  I licked my tongue over cracked lips and rubbed them together as my mouth watered. "Was’yer name?" My voice didn't sound like mine, too groggy and muffled. Oh. A blanket covered half my face, so I tugged it down.

  "Shayanne, but you can call me Shay."

  "How long have we…been here?"

  "Two days."

  "Are they"—I gestured vaguely—"behaving or driving you crazy?"

  "Three perfect gentlemen so far. All very concerned about you."

  Even Thomas? But he was so…so… I fought to keep my eyes open.

  "…dangerous…"

  "Huh?"

  Had she read my mind, or had I wondered about Thomas aloud?

  "My husband isn’t the dangerous type, I said."

  Awareness sliced back into me as my eyes widened. Her husband, Lager.

  "I keep telling the men you came with this, but I can tell they don’t believe me." With a sigh, she picked up a spoon from the tray and stirred it into the bowl, the metal gently hitting the sides. "Think you can sit up to eat?"

  Slowly, I lifted my weight with weak, shaky arms and scooted myself toward my pillow. The effort made my heart pound and a chill wind up my spine. She tucked the blanket around my waist to keep me warm, something Jade's mom used to do for her when she was sick. I always envied her for that, having a mom who cared.

  "How long have we been here?"

  "A day and a half," she said, setting the tray on my lap.

  "It seems longer." I found the hot bowl with the spoon sticking out of it, but then I folded my arms across my chest. "You need this food for winter."

  "We have plenty. Please. My husband is a good provider for me and Gibby, no matter what you might think of him."

  "It isn’t about what I think of him—" I stopped myself with a spoonful of broth. It didn’t matter what I said anyway. Her thoughts about Lager had already been shaped as permanently as mine had. There was no changing them. Besides, no matter what I said or didn't say, she was feeding us and providing a roof over our heads. All because she thought that would save her husband.

  The light, flavorful broth washed down my throat, and I felt ten times better already.

  Shay cleared her throat. “Gibby’s asleep in my bed, so you can speak freely. You mentioned if I helped you, it might keep you from hurting Lager...further. You also mentioned herbs. I have plenty."

  "I'm thinking too n
arrowly with herbs." I tipped the bowl to my mouth, the spoon's speed not able to curb my hunger. I gulped loudly until every last drop was gone and then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "What else do you have that can kill?"

  With a shuddery breath, she rose and paced a short distance away. "Even if I had something, what would keep you from using it on my husband?"

  "My word." Ha. Even I didn't believe me.

  "Then you'd kill him another way and still technically keep your word,” she snapped. “I'm not stupid, Aika."

  "I never thought that for one second," I admitted.

  "Then don't treat me like I am. You want me to help you make your poison stronger. Why?"

  "Because there are wolves in the Crimson Forest…"

  She waited patiently while I placed my bowl on the tray and then settled myself back under the covers.

  "But they're the wrong wolves," I continued. “Another pack took over by force, with my family’s original poison, because they couldn’t breed anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. The three men here with me and their…dog—”

  “Wolf.”

  I blinked at her.

  “I know one when I see it.”

  “Well, they’re all wolves. Wolf shifters. The four out there, plus one more pup we’re looking for, are the only ones left because of the pack that took over the Crimson Forest.”

  She sucked in a breath as if she were about to say something, but didn't.

  "They can shift for you if you don't believe me."

  "I believe you." She crossed toward me and sagged down on the edge of the bed, the fabric of her dress fluttering. I imagined it was a dress anyway, another gorgeous one. "We don't have forests in the Far South. It's mostly low shrubs and sand. There was one time when I was about fourteen, I looked out the window of my house and saw a wolf staring back. There were no footprints in the sand around it, not that belonged to a wolf anyway. Only a person's, and the wolf's eyes… I could see the intelligence there, a whole lifetime of memories and experiences that had brought it there outside my window. Then it ran off. I've thought about that moment again and again ever since wondering how, but…"