Foretold. Rinda Elliott

two gray wolves stepped from the trees. They stopped on either side of Vanir. He bent to rub the head of one and a strand of his wheat-colored hair slid forward. His hair was long, shoulder-length at least.

      In that instant, I knew I was right where I was supposed to be. Mom had been right about who he was. Right about the prophecies... Was she right about my possible death?

      Was Vanir destined to kill me?

      That humming filtered through the trees again, and this time the runner did more than whimper—he screamed. One of the wolves growled low in its throat.

      Vanir’s hair caught the slivers of moonlight through the leaves as he whipped his head toward that sound. “I have to go. The one with the bent ear is Geri and this one is Freak—they’ll protect you.” He knelt and looked into the eyes of each wolf. “Keep her warm,” he said before loping into the woods.

      Somewhere along the way he’d figured out I was a girl. I stared at the wolves, my tongue tied in knots. This was too much of a coincidence. The gods had to have a hand in this. My norn twisted behind my ribs as if she answered.

      “Thanks,” I finally whispered. “The trick with the deer sucked. I know you probably hate the creatures because they munched on Yggdrasil and all, but I need my car.”

      Vanir had disappeared into the forest, but I heard the slap of his feet on the snow. The wolves stalked toward me. My heart pounded so loud I knew they could hear it, could smell my fear.

      One of them looked toward the place where Vanir had gone.

      Geri and Freak, he’d said. Odin had run with two wolf companions, Geri and Freki.

      Shivers hit me then, and before I could huddle into a ball, both animals crowded around me. Real fear froze me in place and it felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my head. These creatures listened to Vanir, but I was a stranger, nicely marinated in river water. I managed not to whimper when they crushed close, still watching the woods. Despite the pungent odor of wet fur and the absolute terror I had at the thought of relying on wild animals for heat, I sighed at the relief that warmth brought.

      I couldn’t stay there, though. “Don’t worry about your friend,” I whispered to the wolves, my voice catching on the pain. Not only the physical, but the mental anguish I barely held tethered. That stupid lavender told me it was really my mother out there.

      Scaring someone. Possible hurting them.

      I pushed away from the wolves, though the loss of warmth made me clench my teeth. Staring into the trees, I called upon every reserve of strength I had before following.

      Chapter Three

      I remembered my cell phone as I stepped into the forest. I pulled off Vanir’s too-big gloves and shoved them into the pocket of his coat.

      “Please, please...” I muttered, digging the phone out of the front pocket of my wet jeans. Why did jeans always shrink so tightly when wet? My fingers stung they were so cold.

      The phone was damp, but the screen came on when I pushed a button. Coral answered on the third ring. “You’re hurt.”

      We always knew with one another. I stumbled over something hidden in the snow and caught my hand on the rough bark of a tree. Wincing, I got my balance and curled my sore hand into a fist and pushed it into a pocket. “Gods, Coral, it’s crazy here! I’m in a forest, wet and cold, and get this, I’m walking with wolves.”

      “Come again?” Her voice came across tinny—like she was in a tunnel.

      I held the phone closer to my ear. “Yeah, wolves. I crashed into a stupid river and now I’m following Vanir—”

      “You found him already? Is he it? Can you tell? Does he look like a warrior?” She paused. “Wait, you crashed?”

      “Coral, I’m freaking freezing here. I’ll have to call back, but I think Mom is here.” I tripped over a stump this time. I knew it was a stump because my toe hit it hard. My knees crashed into snow just as one of the wolves nudged me and I dropped the phone. The snow stung my hands as I dug for it.

      “Raven!”

      My fingers were so stiff I could barely hold the phone, but I got it back to my ear as I leaned on a tree to catch my breath. Wet snow on the phone pricked my cheek. “I’m here. Dropped my cell.”

      “Why do you think Mom’s there?”

      “Because I smell lavender out in the woods in Oklahoma during Snowmageddon.” I took a deep breath. It hurt my lungs. “I’m also lost. I gotta go.”

      “But if you smell lavender that means she’s—”

      I closed my eyes, squeezed them to try and generate warmth and missed whatever else she said. One of the wolves nudged my side and I jumped. “Yeah, she’s doing some kind of spell. And it’s a doozy if I can smell it when I can’t even hear her.” The wolf poked me with its nose again. “I really do have to go. So cold.”

      “Call me back soon, okay?” She sighed loudly. “Just let me know you’re okay. I’ll call Kat.”

      “’Kay.” I flipped the phone closed and jammed it back into my jeans.

      I wanted to get to Vanir before Mom did, though I still couldn’t believe she’d actually hurt him.

      Fury got me moving again. One of the wolves stayed close to my side. It was so tall that I didn’t have to bend to bury my fingers in the warm fur. I should have been more scared of the huge animal, but I wasn’t. Not right then, anyway. “I don’t know if you’re Geri or Freak—which is a really mean name to give such a beauty, by the way—but you guys have to help me. Can you take me to Vanir?”

      Yeah, rationally, I knew they couldn’t understand me. The weird, glowing eyes made them supernatural creatures of some sort, but wolves with the ability to decipher human speech? Nah. Still, one bounded a few feet ahead and went stiff, tail straight and horizontal to the ground. It sniffed, so I took a cautious breath, trying not to pull it too deep since my breaths felt more like they pulled in razors rather than air.

      I gagged when lavender-tainted magic filled my lungs.

      That wolf took off and the other stayed close by my side, surprising me with the amount of warmth it generated every time it brushed my hand or leg. I was glad the other one stopped every so often to turn those glowing eyes in our direction because I couldn’t move very fast now. Exhaustion made my limbs feel like anchors and the pillowy drifts of snow were starting to look more bedlike with each drag of my feet. And though I could smell my mother’s magic, I couldn’t follow it to the source—not even if I wasn’t already disoriented as hell from the bump on my head and the cold.

      I wished then that I hadn’t cut my hair—at least it would have kept my ears warm.

      Soon, my thoughts turned into jumbled mush as I focused on getting one foot in front of the other. Most of the images tumbling through my mind were of my mother and sisters during a few of the happier times, like the summer we’d crossed a couple of states with a group of people who called themselves Travelers. Took us a while to figure out they were mostly thieves, but the gatherings at night with music and good food had been cool. Or the time we’d stopped at an RV camp and I’d dived off the edge of a small waterfall and hit my head in shallow water. Mom had kept me up all night, afraid I wouldn’t wake if I fell asleep.

      She’d always had problems and my sisters and I believed it was because of the prophecy, the running...maybe even our father, who’d abandoned her after their one night together. But I couldn’t wrap my mind around her behavior now. Crazy or not, she’d never left us, and as far as I knew, she’d never hurt anyone. I had such a bad feeling that she was trying to hurt Vanir.

      I stumbled again and worked to focus on the problem now. The snow wasn’t that deep here since the trees were close together and their canopies were catching most of it before dumping chunks that created drifts here and there. Every