The little one in my arms labored to breathe.

Please. I allowed myself to pray. We had waited so long to find our mate. We cannot lose her.

We will save her, Rolf said.

Sage’s head lolled against my chest in fitful sleep. I gritted my teeth. We could not rest until she was safe.

By afternoon a thin light filtered through. The mist lifted a little.

Ahead Rolf stopped, and barked.

Where are we?

North of the abbey by a league. The Corpse King uses his powers to cover the land with a wicked spell.

I set the woman down, and she curled into a ball. Rolf trotted to her and lay down, pressing against her small body to offer his warmth. It is not wise to stop.

She is frail, and underfed. We cannot risk her growing too weak. I stroked the woman’s hair as she shivered against me.

We need to build a fire, I ordered Rolf.

We cannot risk it.

She is cold!

The Corpse King’s forces will find us. We must be on the move anyway.

It is not good for her to travel.

If we do not run, the Corpse King’s forces will come, and take her from us.

I rose and lifted her.

“Thorbjorn?” she mumbled.

“Forgive me, sweetness. We must be on the move. The Corpse King comes for you.”

Her arms threaded around my neck tightly. “You won’t let him hurt me?”

“No, I will keep you safe from him.”

She rested her forehead against my neck and let out a little sigh. “I’ll be good for you. I promise.”

“I know, sweet one. I know.”

Within an hour, her body was wracked with coughs.

This will not do, Rolf said finally. She is ill, and we are cut off from the pack. What do we do now?

Keep heading north. There's a witch who owes me a favor.

The wolf raised his head. Careful, brother. We do not want to be indebted to one.

Sage coughed and her whole body shook with it.

Do you know what to do to make her well? I asked.

You know I don’t. What manner of sickness is it, that comes on her so quickly?

I don’t know, but a witch would, I told him.

Rolf was silent. I felt the sick churn of his fear through the bond. I do not want to deal with a witch again.

I grimaced. I know, brother. But this is our mate. We cannot let her die.

As we walked, I tried to reach out to the Alphas, but could not break through.

There is no other way, Rolf. We do not have a choice.

I turned my feet to true north, and walked until I caught the scent of a witch, bitter and earthy, like a tomb.

Night had fallen by the time we came to the crossroads I remembered. Gifts laid at the foot of a tall stone set on its end.

Rolf Changed. “This is the place?”

“Yes. Don’t you remember bringing her this stone?”

Rolf grunted. At the foot of the marker, people had placed gifts and offerings as tribute. My warrior brother squatted near the pile, but didn’t touch it. “Plenty of gold here, brother.”

“The witch doesn’t like gold.”

“What then?”

“Here, hold the girl.” Once I’d surrendered Sage to Rolf’s waiting hands, I drew my dagger and set the tip on the inside of my arm, and sliced it until my blood splashed onto the stones.

“Red blood, dead blood,” a whispered chant came from behind the stone.

Rolf jerked away from the pile of gifts as the shadows shifted and a hunched creature appeared.

The ancient thing crept up, a scrawny arm and a cup extended.

Silently, I held my arm over the cup and let her catch my blood until the cut healed. I lowered my dagger, but didn’t put it away.

The witch sang her macabre song as she swirled the cup. She sipped a little of the contents, and smacked her lips.

“I have tasted you before, wolfkin.”

“I have aided you, and now need two favors in return. We seek a healing potion for our woman and a safe place to hide.”

“Oh,” the witch crooned, and approached Rolf. He allowed himself one step backwards before making himself stand for her inspection. She sniffed the air once, twice, and shook her head. “You smell of a witch.”

A growl built low in Rolf’s throat.

“He’s not the one who’s ill,” I said to the witch. “Look to the girl.” It’s all right, Rolf. If the witch tries anything, I’ll kill her.

The witch bent close to Sage.

“Smells of sweet magic, this one.” The witch passed a tattooed hand through the air over Sage’s still face. The girl started to cough, but didn’t open her eyes.

Rolf retreated, cuddling Sage to his chest. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing I cannot cure. She has an evil spirit in her lungs. The mist—the ancient one’s curse.”

“Can you cure it?”

“Oh, I have many healing things for this one. Herbs and more… green things and ‘tween things, for mists upon the moor—” the creature hummed her tune.

“What about a hiding place?” I interrupted, and the song abruptly stopped. The witch waddled away and disappeared behind the stone. We waited in silence.

Do you think— Rolf started to ask, but stopped when the witch appeared again.

“Here,” she croaked, handing me a bag. “Teas, three times a day. And a fourth tonic.” A clawed hand beckoned, I leaned down and let the witch whisper in my ear.

“Three times a day?” I weighed the bag thoughtfully.

“And salve for her chest and another for—”

“I understand.”

The witch smiled, nodded.

“And what about a sanctuary?”

“I have just the place. Deep in the forest. Follow the light of the morning star.” She pointed. “Until dawn glimmers in the east. Enter the forest, and then the cave. You will find what you seek.” She hummed again, and puttered off.

Do you trust this one? Rolf held the woman to his chest, a strained look on his face.

No. But she owes me. She will help us.

I do not like that you gave her a taste for our blood.

She had the taste long before I came to her. This is the witch the Alphas consulted, to find their woman.

Rolf looked thoughtful. I thought it was Yseult.

No, at the time, Yseult was not powerful enough. Come—let us be gone from this place quickly. I didn’t want to speak any more of craven evil. The magic would be enough to heal our woman, and then we would keep her safe.