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He tosses something in the air and catches it with expert agility, a flash of white.

“Evan Knight, this is civilised land,” Zachary Blackwood says. “Control yourself.”

Something arcs through the air and explodes against Evan’s shoulder. He turns, mouth wide, with an exclamation of, “What the fuck—”

“First blood!” calls Séverin Montcroix, running past.

I scoop up a fistful of snow and hurl it after him, missing by inches. He lets out a mocking laugh and throws up both his middle fingers.

“Don’t worry, Sutton, I’ve got this,” calls Evan, reckless and smiling giddily.

I can’t resist the sudden impulse: grabbing a fistful of loose snow, I hurl it at him, showering him with an arc of snow that powders his hair and shoulders like glitter.

He spins, eyes darkening even as his smile curves wider. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

“Give me all you’ve got.”

“You couldn’t handle it,” he says, scooping a ball of snow and rolling it with effortless technique into his hands.

With a hoarse gasp of laughter, I dive into a run, rushing towards the line of trees down the hill.

The situation devolves quickly as the battle grows heated and snow goes streaking across the field. Zachary, watching from the sidelines with his arms crossed, shakes his head.

“You’re all behaving like children.”

And that’s when Theodora—sweet, angelic Theodora with her pretty face haloed silver by her hair—sneaks up to him and shoves a handful of snow directly down the back of his coat.

Zachary spins around, closing his eyes slowly as his body shudders against the sudden invasion of cold. “You did not just—”

Theodora is already laughing, already running, and Zachary moves fast. He catches her effortlessly, pulling her back against his chest with one arm, shielding her from any more incoming snowballs with the other.

“Treacherous girl,” he mutters, pressing his lips to the crown of her head.

The rest of what he says is drowned out by a sudden yell of laughter from Anaïs, who’s halfheartedly shovelling snow at Séverin while he kisses the side of her neck between attacks.

A figure dashes across the snow towards me. I turn with an alarmed gasp and toss out a snowball. Evan throws up an arm, and snow explodes against his forearm. I turn to run but don’t get far before I’m hit with the full force of Evan’s body and go pitching into the snow with a yell.

There’s a scramble as I roll onto my back and shovel as much snow as possible into Evan’s face. He sputters but doesn’t let up, straddling my hips and grabbing my arms to pin them down into the snow.

“Let me go.” My voice is hoarse from laughing and yelling and the cold.

“Admit defeat and I will.” He grins down at me, snow powdering his hair, melting over his lips. “Admit defeat, Sutton, and I’ll show you mercy.”

I struggle under his weight, trying to throw him off. “I don’t want your mercy.”

“You want me to be cruel?” he asks. “I can be cruel.”

He lets go of my arms—a bad sign—and gathers a loose handful of snow. I yell and try to shove him off with all my strength, but he chuckles, lifts my jumper, and smears snow all over my stomach and bra.

I let out a high-pitched scream of shock and cold. “I’m going to kill you!”

Evan laughs, clearly looking forward to me murdering him. He stands, and I gasp when he pulls me up off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder with effortless strength.

On the way back to the house, I notice a dark figure leaning against a tree. I immediately recognise the signature black jacket and buzz cut of Iakov Kavinski, one of Evan’s friends.

He must have just arrived because there’s a bag plopped into the snow next to him. He doesn’t join the battle, but he watches, smoking a cigarette. There’s a bruise near his mouthand an expression of amusement on his face that’s mingled with something else, sad yet fond, like nostalgia.

Evan greets him warmly but doesn’t break his stride. Iakov waves two fingers at me and gives a chuckle, shaking his head as Evan bears me away.