Storm locked packhouse. Shutters banging. Snow piling against doors. Guards said no one in or out till morning, not even council. They slept in hall downstairs on furs, grumbling.

Luna room was only warm room upstairs because fire never stopped. Lucia kept feeding it, testing every log like logs could be poisoned, which made Hazel laugh for first time in two days.

Alaric didn't laugh. He didn't let Hazel go.

He sat on bed, back against headboard. Hazel between his legs, her back to his chest, his arms around her, her blue feet tucked under his thighs to warm them. He had wrapped her hands with clean cloth after healer...