by Zoe Chant
“I can't! I’m stuck,” she shouted back, feeling like she was going to be sick any minute.
They were too close to the abyss. And something at the bottom of the sleigh had broken, trapping her foot beneath a plank of wood.
Another impact shook the sleigh, and whatever it was that held her captive pressed down even harder, so that she cried out at the crushing pain.
“Jump! Jump, you idiot!” she shouted in terror as the blue of the sky loomed before her—and then, for a heartbeat, all sound seemed to cut out. The sleigh was no longer skidding past snow and ice.
The sleigh had turned in the air. The blue of the sky was above her now, and the white of the ice-covered plain gleamed far below her. For a fraction of a second, she felt weightless, transfixed in the sky.
Then they began to drop.
As the sleigh turned upside down, her foot had slipped free from whatever splintered wood had held it trapped. It still ached dully, but with terror filling every single cell of her body as death was fast approaching, she didn’t even notice the pain.
All she could think of was how glad she was that Dylan hadn’t come along. That, and the horrible, overwhelming regret that she’d dragged Raul into this with her. If he hadn’t fallen in love with her, he wouldn’t have died here with her.
Then she realized that Raul was no longer next to her. Had he managed to jump out in time?
Suddenly, there was a strange rush of air. Something closed tightly around her—and a second later, her fall was stopped as something lifted her.
Her heart was pounding in her chest. Terror was still clutching her, so that it was difficult to breathe through the overwhelming fear.
But when she looked down, she saw that something that was shimmering in a strange, reddish black had wrapped around her. It was large, and very hard. It looked... It looked exactly like a giant claw.
Then she could hear what sounded like the beating of giant wings. And when she slowly lifted her head, her heart pounding in her throat, she saw the silhouette of a giant dragon flying above her, holding her tightly in one of his claws. With the other leg, he’d grasped hold of the sleigh, the two white stallions held safely by the harness.
Where’s Raul? she thought again, starting to tremble as the shock caught up with her.
As the dragon kept beating his wings, they slowly rose up in the air. Not a minute later, she found herself safely deposited back on the ground together with the horses, not far from the cliff they’d tumbled across. The driver was watching with wide eyes, even though he was still sitting in the snow himself, clutching his knee with a grimace of pain.
Raul...?
The dragon took a few steps backward, folding his wings. They were beautiful. His entire body was covered in scales of a deep, ruby red. At his breast, they were tipped with a bright orange-yellow; at his tail, they were tinted black.
With the light of the dying sun on him, it looked like small flames were dancing all over his body. He was magnificent, the sight taking her breath away. It was as if a flame had come to life, surrounded by nothing but ice and snow. Claire felt her heart expand, a familiar heat rushing in to warm her.
Raul’s heat. A dragon's heat.
A moment later, the dragon’s powerful body shimmered. Instead of the dragon of flame, a man was standing on the ice, his eyes filled by the same living fire that had played all over the dragon’s body.
He gave her a small smile—and then he crumpled onto the snow as he clutched at his chest.
“Raul,” she cried, ignoring the pain of her ankle as she rushed towards him.
She’d broken her foot once, and this didn’t feel as bad. But it didn't matter, because right now, the only thing she could think of was that she was still alive. She was alive, and so was Raul.
And Raul’s a dragon...
“Are you okay?” she asked fearfully as she knelt down beside him.
She remembered all of a sudden that a second before the horses had shied, he’d told her that he couldn’t shift. Had he lied to her? But she’d seen the dragon with her own eyes...
Raul was very pale. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. When she pressed her hand to his cheek, he coughed weakly. Claire felt a stab of fear pierce her heart when she saw that a thin line of blood came trickling from his mouth.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered. Gently, she wiped the blood away. “Don’t move. I’m so sorry. I’ll get a doctor up here.”
Was her phone still in her pocket? More importantly, could she get a signal here on the mountain?
Raul’s hand came to rest on her arm. “I’ll be fine,” he said weakly.
Then he coughed again, but to Claire’s relief, there didn’t seem to be more blood.
“Sorry. I wanted to tell you,” he murmured. “Told you I can’t shift... If I do, it takes a lot out of me. My dragon’s broken. You deserve a better mate...”
“Oh, hush,” Claire said, an equal amount of anger and worry rising up in her. “I’m not going to listen to you talking that way about yourself when you’ve just saved my life! There’s nothing broken about that dragon. It was magnificent and I couldn’t imagine a better dragon! And if I never see him again because you can’t shift without coughing up blood, then that will be completely fine because I’m in love with you, Raul, the human. And also—wait. Did you say mate?”
All through her lecture, Raul had watched her with an appropriate amount of chagrin. Now, even though he still looked as pale as the snow, he gave her a small, hopeful smile.
“I wanted it to be romantic. That’s why I booked the sleigh ride. I wanted to tell you. I had a gift and everything.”
With a groan, he determinedly reached for his pocket, even though the motion obviously caused him pain.
A moment later, there was a small box in his hands. He held it out to Claire.
“For me?” she asked, dazed as she took hold of it with trembling hands.
“It’s not the best moment. This really isn’t how I’d planned this to go. But it’s true,” he said. He was still clutching his chest, and there were lines of pain around his lips.
But there was also a hopeful look in his eyes—a hint of flame, burning with the same tentative warmth as the heat in Claire’s own heart.
When she opened the little box, she found a necklace inside. It was a thin chain of gold, beautifully made. When she lifted it up into the light, it shone brilliantly, reflecting the last rays of the dying sun. For a moment it seemed as if flames were dancing along the delicate chain.
“I know it’s not much. A real dragon would have laid chests of diamonds and rubies at your feet. But it’s my only true treasure. I made it myself, long ago when I was a child, together with my grandfather.”
All of a sudden, Claire realized that there were tears in her eyes. Determined, she wiped them away.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, not even embarrassed by the way tears had made her voice all rough. “I couldn’t imagine anything more precious. Will you put it on me?”
She carefully handed it over to Raul, turning around and lifting her hair out of the way.
Her ankle was still aching a little, and now that the shock had begun to fade, she was aching all over. The accident had probably left bruises.
Still, when Raul fastened the golden chain around her neck with careful fingers, it was as if a new wave of gentle heat rushed through her, warmth driving all pain away.
She took a deep, surprised breath.
“Is that you?” she asked, reaching out to cover his fingers with her own where they were still resting on her shoulder. “That heat. You’ve always been so warm... Like a living furnace.”
Raul laughed softly. The heat of his breath against her neck made her shiver before he pulled her back around.
“It’s my dragon. I was born attuned to the power of fire. I can’t really focus enough to use most of my powers, or to shift—but I can keep my own mate warm.”
He drew her into his arms, his lip
s pressing a kiss to her hair.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he said softly. “I wasn’t sure whether I could even completely shift anymore, or survive it—but you were in danger, and I knew I had to try. Even if that was the last time I’d ever shift, I couldn’t think of a better way to say goodbye to my dragon.”
Claire drew back, giving him a fierce look. “No more of that. Dragon or not, you saved my life. There's nothing about you that isn’t strong and brave.”
Raul chuckled wryly when he turned his head. “It’s not going to be much use to us right now. It’s going to get dark very soon. We need to get off this mountain and back to the castle. As a dragon, I’d be a lot more use right now.”
“We’ve still got the horses and the sleigh,” Claire said with a determination she didn’t quite feel. “Stay here.”
She really didn’t feel like spending a night out in the snow and ice of the mountain, despite her brave facade—and despite the fact that she had her own source of heat in the form of Raul with her.
At first, she checked up on their driver, Mr. Walden, who fortunately didn’t seem to suffer from any injuries apart from a twisted knee.
“I can’t walk,” he said with a pained grimace. “The sleigh’s your best bet.”
Ruefully, they both eyed what remained of the sleigh where the dragon had dropped it off.
In the twilight that remained, Claire began to give the sleigh a closer look. She didn’t need to be an expert to see that it would be impossible to use the sleigh to return home. Not only had the wood at the bottom broken, trapping her ankle when they’d skidded across a rock, but one of the iron runners had been ripped off.
The horses were snorting uneasily. Their eyes were still wild, and their decorated manes had become tangled. For a while, Claire simply stroked their necks. She whispered softly to them until they’d calmed a little from the terrifying experience of the fall and the dragon.
“I wonder what spooked you so in the first place,” she murmured. “I wish you guys could speak. But I guess you aren’t shifters? If you are, I want you to know that the best time to shift back would have been when we were racing straight towards an abyss.”
One of the stallions snorted again, gently snuffling at her pockets, as if in search of a treat.
Claire laughed. “No shifters, understood. And no help with my investigation either, huh?”
She tilted her head at the leather harness. The horses were still connected to the broken sleigh. She wondered if she could disconnect them somehow. She didn’t like the thought of abandoning the two horses out here on the mountain, in the cold and darkness.
Slowly, she ran her hands along the broad, sturdy strips of black leather. She had nothing on her that could cut through the thick material. Several of the buckles had become warped and tangled during their fall and their rescue by dragon wings, but at last she found a buckle she could open.
Of course, tugging on the harness showed her that it was connected to horse and sleigh by at least five other buckles.
Inwardly cursing, she spent precious minutes pulling and loosening leather straps with fingers that grew colder by the second. By the end, she could barely feel the tips of her fingers—but she’d been successful. Holding on to the stallion’s halter, she led him carefully over to where the driver was still sitting.
“Hold him for me. I’ll get the other one. And then we’ll make our way down this mountain,” she said with more optimism than she felt.
Darkness was quickly spreading over the plain below her. In the distance, she could see the castle spring to life, window after window lighting up, balconies and trees and the frozen lake sparkling with fairy lights. Her heart clenched for a moment as she thought of Dylan. Would he be worrying about her?
He’s probably lost in one of his games. And he didn’t even know that Raul took me out for a sleigh ride. He’ll think that I’m simply working late again...
She blew on her fingers to warm them before she began to tackle the buckles on the second stallion. Having Raul’s warmth would be useful right now—but he was hurt, and she didn’t want to force him to get up when just a moment ago, he’d coughed up blood.
Silently, she cursed when her fingers slipped, a sharp edge of a buckle cutting deep enough to draw blood.
With a sigh, she sucked on it as she stared at the tangle of leather straps. This side looked worse. She supposed the horse was lucky that the leather was so sturdy or Raul would never have managed to rescue the stallions. Still, it was no fun to try and disentangle a mess of wet leather and warped buckles.
“Need any help?” Raul’s voice murmured.
When she turned, she found that he’d made his way over to her despite everything. He still looked very pale, one hand clutching his coat over where his heart was beating. But he could stand and move—and he still gave off a delicious warmth that made her feel more hopeful about this mess they’d landed it.
“I think I’ve got it figured out,” she said, frowning at the puzzle of straps before. “It’s just this, and this, and this buckle...”
When she’d loosened the three buckles with her aching fingers, the stallion stomped impatiently.
She’d been right... there was only one final strap now, connecting to the wooden beam between the horses that in turn connected to the sleigh.
“Okay. Almost done, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good boy about all of this. Just hold still for another second—”
She stopped when her fingers encountered something strange. Even with the numb tips of her fingers, she immediately sensed that something was wrong.
A broad, doubly enforced leather strip had torn completely off here. That shouldn’t surprise her; several of the straps had ripped during their flight and rescue.
Still, something about it seemed off, even if she couldn’t figure out what rung such alarm bells in her head.
“That’s a cut,” Raul said. Even though his voice was still rough with pain, he’d moved closer, peering at the strap alongside her. “There. Do you see it? It didn’t tear. This is a clean cut, more than halfway through.”
Shocked, Claire felt along the leather with her fingers again.
Raul was right. The cut was clean, the leather strap cleanly cut until past the halfway point. And there, the leather was frayed and warped when it had finally torn completely.
Raul took up the strap, studying where it was connected to the wooden shafts of the sleigh. He gave it an experimental tug, watching how the wood connected to the sleigh moved in response.
“I think this is how it happened. This strap ripped—which means that the sleigh became suddenly uncontrollable. And the horses panicked when the sleigh began to swerve behind them.”
“And dragged us right to the cliff.” Even now, a shudder ran through Claire at the memory. “I don’t understand—where did that cut come from?”
Raul gave her a grim look. “I don’t know. But I promise that I’ll find out. This isn’t an accident, Claire. Someone must have cut that strap. Perhaps it was just an incredibly stupid joke. Or perhaps someone wanted to drive our Mr. Walden here out of business. But whatever their reason, they nearly killed you.”
“They could have killed some of our guests,” Claire said, feeling sick. “Or injured them, at least.”
Slowly, Raul shook his head. “No. That harness is far too large for the ponies which do the guest tours.”
“When did you arrange our ride?” Claire could feel her heart beating in her throat when she realized what this meant.
“Three days ago” Raul sad softly. “I’ll see if I can find out who was told about it. I don’t want you to panic, Claire—but until I find out what’s going on here, I want you to be very careful.”
Claire swallowed thickly, then gave him a nod. “I promise. But first, we need to get off this mountain. We’ll have to ride. It’s already getting dark—and we don’t know who’s out there.”
Chapter Eight: Raul
The ride dow
n the mountain took longer than it had taken them to get up there. Instead of the stallions’ easy trot that had pulled them steadily up the incline, they were now forced to make their way down in the darkness. The driver’d pulled out a flashlight from the remnants of the sleigh which he kept for emergencies, but even so they had to ride slowly, unable to see further than the few feet ahead where the cone of light ended.
They’d helped the injured Mr. Walder up onto one of his stallions. Claire and Raul shared the second horse, which hadn’t even complained about having to carry two people, but had seemed just as eager as they were to get back home.
With the darkness, it had become very cold out on the mountain. There was nothing but black sky stretching far above them. The night was cloudless, the stars a brilliant white above them. Their breath froze in little puffs of cloud in front of their face, and Raul kept his arms wrapped tightly around Claire, who sat in front of him.
Her fingers had been ice cold, but now, with his dragon’s heat warming her, she’d relaxed against him.
With every careful step their stallion took, they were pressed together. They could no longer see the castle below. There was only the mountain and the sky. It could have been romantic, now that Claire was no longer trembling with cold, but Raul couldn’t forge their worrying discovery.
Someone had caused their accident.
The driver wasn’t the sort of man to neglect his harnesses; the leather had been clean and well oiled, every single bell gleaming brightly. It wasn’t simple wear. The cut had been deliberate.
But what could it mean?
Either the driver had an enemy—or Claire and he did.
Or maybe it’s easier than that. Maybe the Snow Castle has an enemy. A business rival jealous of their success—or someone from the nearby town who’s unhappy about the tourists?
Claire’s hands tightened around his own as if she’d heard his thoughts.
“No need to worry right now. Let’s just get safely home first,” she said softly.