Page 21 of Our Dark Winter Wish

‘Just because I like to eat the meat doesn’t mean I want to see it slaughtered. Besides. I still have nightmares about those rats you stuck my hand in.’ I actually wretch at the memory

‘Pop your comfy boots on, Pix. We’ll be walking for a while today.’

‘As enticing an offer it is, you know, to walk for miles in the snow simply to find a bird to slaughter, perhaps the catching of the turkey should be a male tradition. I’ll stay here, keep the fire going, read a book and maybe knit a scarf. That can be my tradition.’

‘You don’t know how to knit for shit,’ Dorian scoffs. ‘And last time you tried, you got angry, bent your knitting needles intoknots and tossed the lot in the fire because your hat looked like a napkin.’

‘Well then, I’ll knit a napkin. Maybe I’ll manage three so you can have one each.’ I stand and kiss them each on the cheek. ‘Have fun, my loves. I’ll be thinking of you as I relax by the fire.’

I turn away and head up the stairs.

Closing the door, or what’s left of it after the shadow form of Dorian exploded through it, I enjoy listening to the three of them happily discuss the plan. Archie mentions some spices he wants to find to make something called mulled wine, and every effort is made to put what happened with Shaw and me behind us. The house still stands. We all do. That’s a win in my book.

I open the window and take a deep inhale of that icy air, relishing the smell of pine and moss dancing in the breeze. My connection to the magic in the earth has continued to grow and bloom. Each day that passes fills me with strength, power, and a deeper understanding of its vast possibilities.

The tips of my fingers rest over the first cut Shaw pressed into my skin. The wound is almost healed and I wonder at the fact that I mend so quickly without the need for blood magic or the blood from their veins.

I’m powerful in my own right. And it feels fantastic not to depend on others for strength.

As I continue looking out of the window, a tiny robin lands on the ledge. Its bright red chest starkly contrasts the pure white that continues to fall outside.

‘Hello,’ I whisper, slowly reaching out my hand. The bird slowly hops closer before perching on my finger. I lift her and admire her beautiful feathers, lightly dusted with snow.

She chirps and tilts her head, making me smile at her obvious curiosity. Her focus shifts suddenly, and when I feel the familiar slither of scales on my other wrist, she takes off for the forest beyond.

I lift my hand to see Poppy. She curls around me as she so often does, and I lift her to be level with my face.

‘Morning,’ I greet. ‘And a warm Christmas Eve to you, Poppy.’

She reaches up, and I meet her. A feeling of completion grows at her touch. A spark of connection, not just to her but to her heart. Her intelligence. Her deep need to be with me and keep me safe. And, of course, to help me channel my access to the ancient magics of this place. Our noses touch, and a wave of love ripples between us.

And a question. Not spoken. But felt.

Are you okay?

‘I think so,’ I reply. ‘It was so real. Like Cole was really back.’

She nuzzles my face again in comfort. I close my eyes and soak it up.

There is a bowl of steamy water ready for me to wash. But the outside is just too tempting.

‘Want to go practice?’ I whisper, keen to leave this room where Cole was about to shove a dagger between my legs.

She nods, and I swear she is grinning at the idea.

I put on a light blue dress and high boots before throwing on a fur-lined cloak and climbing through the window.

The guys are busy. So we will be, too.

As much as they have encouraged my earth magic, I can’t help but notice their unease when I push myself or try something new.

And I know they don’t like me wandering around alone.

But I’m not alone. I have Poppy.

Besides, this island is empty.

So I swing my legs over the ledge, and I jump.

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