So I'm very sorry if this is already known or been discussed

With all the talk of breaking the laws of magic didn't Harry break the law about killing mortals with magic again in cold days during the Wild Hunt chase.
Harry was on the back of Murphy's Harley trying to escape and forzare'd one of the char hounds into a wall and broke its neck.
 The char hound turned out to be a mortal human. I know this isn't as clear cut as burning someone alive but that seems to definitely qualify in my book.
He seemed to specificly time and aim the blow so it would kill the guy.
He also knows from Thomas that random people can join the hunt.
it would qualify as self defense but still.
Did that blacken his soul? Did he just forget he killed someone with magic?
He never seems to mention it again which seems strange to me.  Wouldnt this lead to blackening his morals and making him more violent and murdery independent of the winter knight influence. Im currious about your thoughts or maybe dirrect me to a previous descussion about it if its already been talked about.
here is the quote

Something that looked like a great, gaunt hound made of smoke and cinders, with glowing coals for eyes, hit the ground just behind the Harley and began sprinting, keeping pace with us. It came rushing in, dark jaws spread to seize the back tire, the same motion it might have used had it been attempting to hamstring a fleeing deer. Mindless animal panic raged inside my head, but I kept it away from the core of my thoughts, forcing myself to focus, think, act.
I saw Karrin’s eyes snap over to her rearview mirror as it closed, and felt her body tensing against mine as she prepared to evade to the left. I gathered my will but waited to unleash it, and as the charhound closed to within inches of the tire, Karrin leaned and took the Harley left. The charhound’s jaws clashed closed on exhaust fumes, and I unleashed my will from the palm of my outstretched right hand with a snarl of “Forzare!”
Force hit the charhound low on its front legs, and the beast’s head went into the concrete at breakneck speed—literally. There was a terrible snapping sound, and the charhound’s limp body went tumbling end over end, bouncing up into the air for a dozen yards before landing, shedding wisps of darkness all the way.
What landed in a boneless sprawl on the road was not a dog, or a canine of any sort. It was a young man—a human, wearing a black T-shirt and torn old blue jeans. I barely had time to register that before the body tumbled off the road and was out of sight.
“Good shot!” Karrin cried, grinning fiercely. She was driving. She hadn’t seen what was under the hound’s outer shell.
So that was how one joined the Wild Hunt. It was a mask, a huge, dark, terrifying mask—a masquerade.
And I’d just killed a man.

  Cold days chapter 41