Thorns by Kate Avery Ellison

but either way it’s unfortunate timing after what happened to her father today. The marriage would have helped her family significantly.”
    He frowned.
    I glanced back at the lantern, and my breath caught in my throat.
    Was that movement in the shadows? Adam?
    My breath fogged the glass as I leaned closer and craned my neck. The fire crackled loudly in the silence behind me as I squinted.
    Outside, a black shape rushed past the light and vanished.
    I grabbed the windowsill, straining to see. My heart pounded against my ribs like a fist against a door.
    Watchers?
    The light of the lantern winked as another shape passed between it and us. A flash of spikes and fur. The gleam of long, powerful limbs. A low, trembling growl filled the air.
    I sucked in a breath as cold swept over me. I eased the shutters shut and took a step back. My pulse throbbed in my throat. My fingers turned numb.
    “What is it?” Ivy hissed. The yarn in her lap fell to the floor and rolled under a chair.
    “Watchers. They’re in the yard.” I backed away from the window slowly.
    Jonn grabbed the arms of his chair. “Are you sure?”
    “I saw them,” I insisted. “They were past the woods.”
    We were three points of a triangle—Ivy, Jonn, and me, frozen and facing each other. My thoughts swirled as I looked around the room. My blood buzzed with terror. The Aeralian children in the barn would be fine. They were safe below ground. I didn’t know if I could say the same for us, trapped in this rickety farmhouse. The walls suddenly seemed perilously thin, the door a shred of wood, the windows delicate as ice.
    “We’re going to be fine,” Jonn said, his tone low and calm like he was soothing a frightened animal. “The windows are covered by the shutters, and we’ve got plenty of snow blossoms beneath every window and beside every door. They’ll look around and then they’ll go away just like they always do. Perhaps they’ve come out to look for food, but they won’t pass the blossoms for it.”
    Maybe he was right. I gulped air and sank down at the hearth.
    Silence descended. We remained still, breathing shallowly, listening for any telltale sounds of footsteps, of snow sifting, of guttural snarls.
    Nothing.
    I sighed. Jonn smiled at me. Ivy relaxed and leaned back in her chair. Perhaps they’d already moved on. Perhaps I’d just imagined it in my worry-plagued mind. Too much anxiety, too little rest.
    I started to rise—
    CRACK !
    Something slammed against the side of the house.
    Ivy covered her mouth with both hands. Jonn jerked himself upright, his eyes wide. I ran to the mantle and fumbled with my father’s ancient pistol that hung there.
    “Ivy,” I hissed. “Help Jonn into the bedroom and push the dresser in front of the door.”
    “But—”
    “Help. Jonn. Into. The. Bedroom.”
    “No,” he growled.
    “Get in the bedroom and get under the bed, Jonn.”
    Another shudder shook the house. Dust fell from the rafters. In the kitchen, the pots shivered.
    “Lia,” he snapped, and for the first time his voice was less than calm.
    Instead, I shot a glance at my sister. She scrambled to do what I said. She grabbed his arm and slipped it over her shoulders, helping him stand. A single look passed between my twin and me—every shred of pride and love and shame and self-loathing and fear in him poured from his eyes. He wasn’t able to defend us. I shook my head at the protest I saw in his eyes. I just wanted him safe. Both of them.
    The door to our parents’ bedroom clicked shut. I heard the scrape of the dresser across the floor. I turned to face the door, the only point of entry I was really worried about. The bones of this house were strong. It was built from sturdy oak beams. But the door...
    It’d been in disrepair since my father’s death. The wood was old, weak. One well-placed blow from an angry Watcher might snap the lock, and throw it wide open.
    I could hear the scrape of claws in the snow, the hiss of breath just