Rone eased off, and she sucked a quick breath in as another burst of energy smacked her.
Towering over her bared body, Rone stared down at her briefly before turning his attention back to the ice bear who heaved out clouds of hot air into the frozen night.
“You are not dead because of my mate. You ever touch her again and I don’t care how much blood I have to spill. Debt or no debt.”
She stared between the two, bewildered.
Reaper’s scowl deepened but he relented enough to offer a simple shake of his head in understanding. “We are running out of time.”
“Sabine,” Rone cut in, pulling her to the side. “Please. Do this for me. Reaper is right about one thing. I owe his family a favor from a long time ago. His brother saved my life once when the Russians would have liked to use my bear for hunting sport. Will you help?”
Sabine absorbed the fraction of history between the two she’d wondered about from her first night. She straightened her shoulders and stared out over the hurt.
“Rone, I don't want to be the one that can't save a mother, a son, a daughter from the horrors
of reality. I can’t.”
Darkness clung to them and she caught a glimpse of the disappointment he tried to hide as he turned to Reaper. “It’s okay, Angel. I understand.”
From in front of her one of the bears collapsed. Shit.
Her heart raced.
“Wait,” she threw her hand out and caught Rone’s arm as she spoke to Reaper. “I need ten minutes to gather supplies and then Rone can take me to your territory.”
“I also have a friend. She's a witch and can help narrow down...”
Reaper growled fiercely. “No witches, Wylde. Never again while I breathe.”
“If you want your people to live, you’ll change your mind and fast.” Rone stood next to her now as naked as the rest of them. What was it about clothes in this town?
“The witch is on our side, damn it. Now do you want our help or not? Shit has been going crazy with the High Council way before now. You’re just the latest victims. They can be here within a couple of hours and you have my word they can be trusted. With the help of a couple of other friends they could probably be here sooner.”
By other she had a feeling more otherworldlies would be joining their little unsuspecting town before the night was up. The more the merrier, right?
“Her sister is a healer and Marabelle is the leader of the coven that has taken it upon themselves to take a stand against their antiquated government.”
Reaper shot Rone a grim look. “Sounds like trouble.”
“Trouble has come to us. We can either patch up your wounded and hope they don't return or get some Intel and be prepared in case they return while they counter the shit their own people did to yours.”
“Fair enough. I trust you, friend.”
Sabine almost snorted. They sure the hell had a funny way of showing their so-called friendship.
Reaper offered his hand and Rone reached between them.
“Hurry. Please,” Reaper pleaded and it didn't sound like the word passed his lips often. She gave a faint smile in return and turned on her heel, already shoving the bar door open and calling out for Rone to help.
“I need bags. Anything that can carry alcohol, clean towels, fishing line and anything I can make a hook out of.” Rone fished out a bag from under the bar and started filling it with everything she ticked off.
“Reaper, what kind of herbs and healing ointments did your healer have?”
“Anything you may need will be there.”
Man of few words. No wonder he and Rone got along. “Good.”
Between her and Rone they cut the time she needed down to five and the last item to go in the bag was several bottles of Moon Lust. “I’ve learned a happy shifter is a better shifter.”
The front door bell rang out and all three turned to see Adam join the fun with Aurora hot on his heels along with Pepper and Everett.
“I’ll see you there.” Reaper excused himself and within seconds slipped out the back door as the Wylde family moved in from the front.
“Smelled ice bears and blood. What the hell is going on?”
“It’s started,” Rone stated flatly.
She moved to the bar and clutched the bag Rone prepared and tossed it beside hers at the back door.
“Call Marabelle. Tell them the Council has dropped in for a visit and managed to damn near annihilate a whole den. And, Adam. Tell them to bring back up.”
“The dragons.”
Rone nodded and clasped Adam’s hand. “We’re headed out that way now to see if we can help. I smelled dragon’s blood in the wounds on the ice bears and there’s no doubt black magick was used. The ice bears affected don’t have much time, bro.”
“Read you loud and clear.”
Sabine pulled on as much gear as she could while Rone piled on another scarf around her neck and slipped on a thicker pair of gloves over the ones she already had on. He went back for another hat when she threw up her hands. “Anything else and I won’t be able to move. Is all this necessary?”
“It is if you're human.”
Lucky her.
Sixty seconds later the lights of Claw Ridge faded to tiny dots as they sped away. Swirls of snow slapped against the windshield as darkness swallowed them whole.
“We can get halfway there before we have to take the snowmobiles. Suddenly she became very grateful for all the layers of winter clothes he bundled her in.
She sighed. Some damn Christmas. She started out her trip here running away from responsibilities when all she did was find more.
Several hours later Sabine was bone tired. No one deserved to be alone on Christmas much less fighting to stay alive. Propped up on the doorway, she sipped at a cup of warm cider Reaper offered her and Rone now that the commotion died down. Reaper had slipped out to check the perimeter, leaving her and Rone alone to see over the injured in the ice bear’s massive log home.
When they pulled up hours ago bodies dotted the property, and from a distance they resembled toy soldiers forgotten by an absentminded child. As they had gotten closer to the aftermath of the battle realization painted a far uglier picture.
Fact: Death happened. It wasn’t her fault.
An involuntary tremble racked her body. So callous and cold. According to Rone several ice bears lost their lives but they’d taken down a few warlocks too. A small part of her wanted to cheer but a lost life was nothing to celebrate.
She pressed a hand to her forehead. Houston seemed like a lifetime ago from where she stood over the makeshift beds spread out over the plush carpet of the living room. Rone insisted on keeping everyone together in case round two came about, but thank God everything seemed quiet.
The blood had been cleaned up hours ago and it almost seemed unreal such a thing could happen on Christmas Eve.
“You saved them.” Rone pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head then pulled her in to wrap his arms around her. Gathered in the large family room three times the size of her tiny two-bedroom apartment the soft glow of the fire blanketed the entire home in warmth. A real home. She half imagined a cave in the side of an icy wall on the drive over. Half frozen when they arrived, Reaper ushered them in and she immediately set to work washing, bandaging and stitching all the while amazed by the kindness from the people she heard were no better than savages.
Thunder rumbled through the night. Sabine raked her free hand through her hair and tried to show the panic that snaked up her spine as the floor beneath her feet swayed.
Reaper strolled through the front door with a single word and a disgusted look. “Dragons.”
Her heart spiked as two large men, one with long jet black hair darker than hers and another with snow white hair cropped closer to the head. Each was a stark contrast to the other and she couldn’t take her eyes off the long trench coats they donned or the blade each had strapped to their legs.
This close she could appreciate
the finer features and the fresh scent of snow coming off them.
Interesting. She quickly noticed not all shifters shared the same traits. Where Rone had amber, these two stood out with bright lavender eyes that were completely mesmerizing.
Standing shoulder to shoulder on the other side of the large front door, they waited.
Reaper took one step back as both crossed the threshold like a wall of muscle moving in unison.
“Ye called for some dragons, mates?”
“It’s been a while,” Rone said as he threw a hand out and pulled each of the dragons—oh god she couldn’t believe she even used that word in a sentence—into a quick embrace before pulling back and placing a light hand on the dip of her back. “This is my mate, Sabine. She did what she could to save the injured, but it’s some really fucked up magick.”
“Aye. Black magick and we can tell our blood was in the mix,” added the taller of the two dragons.
Their Scottish accent carried over the quiet room like a melody to the ears. Almost as if they sang.
The taller of the two with the long black hair reach out and offered a hand. She took it.
“Obsidian, lassie. It’s nice to meet ye. Thank you for what you’ve done. And for yer magick healing.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at his comrade. “And that’s me brother, Razer. He’s a pain and likes to show off but don’t let him scare ye.”
“I’m sorry, I think you’re mistaken. No magick, just human books and medicine and whatever herbs I could find to supplement what I didn’t have on hand.”
“Nay, lassie. You have magick in yer blood as true as I am standing here. I can feel it call to my blood.”
Rone growled beside her and the dragon shifter turned an eye to him. “Not in that way, my brother. In the sense my magick senses hers. It’s old. Somewhere down the line yer from old power.”
She was speechless. It wasn’t every day a girl found out she was what, half witch or three-quarters? The reality of how little she knew of her past, her ancestors weighed on her and she made a mental note to fix that.
Rone leaned in. “That explains why my bear imprinted on you.”
Just then the white-haired dragon stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the injured dotted throughout the living room, and she had to set aside the millions of questions that wanted to bombard her. “What can ye tell us about the attack?”
“High Council raided the ice bears thinking they were easy targets.”
“And ye are,” Obsidian offered which earned him a guttural growl from Reaper who stood with his arms crossed, apparently not too happy about the invasion of his property by so many otherworldlies. Warlocks, grizzlies and now dragons. Which brought to mind something. “Where are the witches?”
“We dropped them off at the perimeter. The lassies are checking for signs of the spell work and where the warlocks could have exited the property with yer kin,” he added, looking at Reaper.
“For mind control, right?”
Razer clapped her lightly on the shoulder with a warm smile. “Yer perceptive and fast on yer feet. I like ye more already.”
She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and flashed a tiny smile of gratitude. “Why do they need ice bears? Are there not enough witches and warlocks to fill their evil-doer plans? It’s kind of low for them to grab their enemies’ own people and use them against each other.”
“Fucking low, Angel, but we’re talking about a practice that goes back more than two hundred years.”
“The war,” she stated, understanding.
Beside her Rone crossed his arms and rocked back on the heels of his boots. She’d seen that move over the past couple of days and already knew what he was about to say she wouldn’t like one damn bit.
“Their gathering muscle for their ranks and pulling some seedy mind-bending shit we haven’t seen since ancient times. War isn’t coming anymore, boys. It’s already here.”
Ancient times? That gave her pause. How long did shifters live?
“This isn’t the first time they’ve murdered to get what they want either.”
“For what? What the hell could they possibly want that is worth killing? This isn’t the fucking sixteen hundreds anymore. The population is up and if the human government gets a whiff of anything, they’ll blow their asses sky high.” Reaper raked a hand through his hair and paced a small patch of carpet by the front entrance, unfazed by the flurries of snow that drifted through the open door.
“From the outside looking in, and stop me if I am wrong.” Sabine held a hand up. “Right now all you know is that they are trying to stack the muscle in their favor because they want what…power, right? So it stands to reason you block them from getting that power.”
“Aye, lassie. If it were only that simple. History is always doomed to repeat itself and it seems the time has come again.”
“Aye. Always.” The white-haired one added. “We should go see what the witches have found and start our hunt.”
Wait. She must have heard wrong. “You sound like you were in the last war.”
“Aye, we were.” Obsidian’s mouth tipped up in an arrogant smile as he turned toward the door.
Her eyeballs grew wide and a thousand questions wanted to come out all at once. “What in the world have I stepped into? So what happens now?”
“Hunt down the party they sent here. They can't be too far,” Obsidian answered, his eyes flashing with a lethal edge.
“Thank you,” Reaper offered and then turned to her as the slipped into the night. Rumbles of wind blasted through the door and brought with it a ferocious gust of wind. Both men didn’t look phased but she probably looked like a frozen wet cat.
“It’s time for us to leave too.”
“Before you leave there’s something you must know about yourself, Sabine.” Reaper cupped her smaller hand in his larger one. “You have a healer’s heart in you. I noticed it the first time I met you and tonight you have proven it. If not with my people, with the simple change I see in our mutual friend. Thank you.”
Who? Rone? She didn’t know what to make of that. What he said struck a nerve and rang true but when faced with patients fear gripped her heart and wouldn’t let go. Here, tonight, she acted and looking back realized she did what these people needed of her without a drop of fear or hesitation.
She connected gazes with Rone, who had had never left her side since walking through the double-wide door hours ago. If not for her help tonight many more lives would have been lost. She knew that as fact and facts never let her down.
Fact: Her instincts screamed for her to run far and fast. She almost agreed. Almost.
The fact an amber-eyed growly grizzly would search her out gave her pause. And that simple hesitation could cost her.
Fact: no one can run when snowbound.
CHAPTER TEN
“Where are we going?”
Sabine could barely hear her own voice over the rip of the snowmobile’s loud motor. The wide headlight beam cut through the forest as Rone dodged the machine around felled trees and suspicious-looking hillsides that looked like trouble spelled with a huge freaking capital T. She didn’t dare look down so she couldn’t say for sure. Besides, she had her glasses tucked inside her jacket and blissfully let him steer them to wherever they were going. Since he detoured away from where she knew he had parked the truck, she leaned forward and asked again.
“Are we lost or what?”
A warm rumble of laughter carried through her hands. It was the only sign she had that he actually registered what she had said.
Darkness rapidly swallowed up the space immediately behind the bright spotlight like headlight and all she could see to the sides and rear of them were massive pines, their branches hung low like craggy arms reaching for them through the night. She shook herself mentally. After the events of the night she was waiting for a hoard of cloaked men with wands to jump out and zap them with some kind of wizardry that would turn them into warlock zombies.
; “We’re almost there,” Rone shouted and she squeezed her arms around him to signal she heard.
They crested a ridge and came to a sudden stop before continuing down the slope in a slower pace. In the distance she could make out the rooftop of a cabin that took all of three minutes to reach. Rone killed the engine and helped her dismount.
“Trust me. Follow me.”
She didn’t have a choice. Sabine followed his steps as the slowly rounded the edge of the cabin and Rone led them to the top of the porch. In seconds he had the key pulled out of some hiding spot above the door and them inside.
He made fast work of loading the fireplace as she found the light switches.
“Amazing they still work with how hard it’s coming down out there.”
“One thing about Alaskan homes, they are sturdy and can take a beating.”
“I know the feeling. It takes a sturdy anything to survive out here.” Soft lighting filled the open space that held a dining room table, rustic and a little worn, a couch pushed to the middle of the room to face a large window set to overlook something she bet was spectacular in the daytime and summer. She twirled and peeled off one layer of clothing after the other as the heat built from the roaring fire.
Down to a single sweater, a pair of gloves and her snow pants and boots, Sabine made herself useful by fetching more wood from the woodbox by the front door. “Here.” She passed four more logs over as Rone tossed each onto the growing blaze. “I don’t really think you can make it too big, do you?”
Rone laughed and stole a kiss.
“Hey, that was unfair.”
“I know. But delicious. Love the taste of fresh snow on your lips.”
“That’s beside the point, Rone Wylde.”
“Then what is the point, Angel?” he asked as he stood and nailed her with a look that said it was time they got things out in the open.
Fine. “I’m leaving as soon as the storm lets up.”
The small crease lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brow deepened and she knew her words caught his attention. “Oh yeah? Wanna make a bet?”
Fact: she might have met her match in stubbornness.
Snowbound With Her Christmas Bear: Wylde Den #4 (Alaskan Den Men Book 16) Page 15