Kirastasia was so blitzed out of her mind that when a second kalak rushed in—dripping blood and weeping no less—all she did was blink like an owl, unmoving from where she’d flopped onto the snow. She managed to catch the name this hysterical stranger called (“Lillith”? What kind of a name was Lillith?) but that was about all her wavering train of thought could handle. With a wide, bored yawn, Kira snuggled deeper into the snow, giving the blood-painted lady a tiny smirk that told her she was not impressed in the slightest by this desperate display of aggression.

“You’re welcome, cutie,” the ice princess yawned, tossing out a wink to the pallid kalak before riveting her half-lidded gaze back toward the poor mad cow. “Mind calling off your guard dog? She looks as if she’s about to have a heart attack . . .” Kira managed to gather enough energy to roll onto her side, looking up-up-up at the tall panting firebird perched between herself and the opposite milk-toned lass. Her tiny smirk bloomed into a full curving grin when Lillith admonished the haggard servant. So adorable, how trusting the ebony-and-ivory girl was. Not that Kirastasia would harm a white hair on her foxy head—but honestly! All it had taken was one drunken complement, and the little darling happily saw past the novelty of Kirastasia’s breed and thought her innocuous. The injured fae behaved in a much more understandable manner; the snowbird had been equally disturbed by kalaks the first time she’d glimpsed one. That is . . . until she realized how yummy they were to stare at. “Why, I’m a wolf, pretty Lillith.” Now the fishnet punkette finally did decide to stand, wobbling a little on her shapely limbs as she did so and giggling when the world tilted and shimmered with new colors against her eyelashes. “Half arctic, half . . . something else. But a full-blooded beast. My sire used to be one of the most feared creatures in this land, and my mother terrified any that didn’t want to sleep with her instead.” She dipped into a bow, stretching out her forelimbs and the muscles of her abdomen. Then she fixed both lovely she-wolves with dreamy bedroom eyes, her tail curling slowly over her back.

“Your . . . ‘handmaiden’? Sweet.” Kirastasia smiled attractively, showing off her perfectly aligned fangs. She sensed that Lillith was attempting to hide something . . . and she’d bet her fluffy tail that it was her possible royal blood—since no NORMAL wolf would call her friend a “handmaiden.” Oh, gods—but this one was a helpless babe in the woods if Kira ever saw one. She had no idea how to lie convincingly. But, lucky for her, she’d run into the frost maiden first. “You two aren’t lost, are you? I’d be happy to lead you to water or shelter, whichever you prefer. I’m quite familiar with these lands, as I grew up in them.”