by Zoe Chant
A blizzard that hadn’t abated at all since she’d gone after Diego.
“That damn dog,” she muttered. “I can’t believe he did this to us.”
“How are you feeling? Any pain in your fingers or toes?” the stranger asked.
Experimentally, Angel wiggled her toes, then her fingers.
They worked perfectly all right, even though she still felt a little weak.
“Guess I’m not going to lose any limbs.” She grinned, then realized that the stranger was still looking at her with obvious worry in those gorgeous, ice-pale eyes.
He’s slept by my side to watch over me... He must have been afraid I’d actually die.
“Sorry. I haven’t even said thank you yet.” She held out her hand. “I’m Angel. Angel Harris. Thanks for rescuing me.”
“Any time,” he said. He hesitated a moment, then took her hand and shook it. “Jonathan. That’s a gorgeous name, by the way.”
She grimaced. “I know, very seasonal. Believe me, I’ve heard all the jokes.”
“It’s a Christmas miracle that you’re even alive right now,” he said earnestly. “And that I—that I’m here with you.”
He’d obviously meant to say something else. Angel wondered what it was he’d wanted to say.
He still looked worried—but there was something about him that looked sad.
He was tall, built like an athlete, with blond hair and pale skin. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than her.
And he didn’t look like he belonged here. He had the sort of stunning looks that belonged on the cover of a magazine. Or in an expensive winter resort. Not in an abandoned wooden cabin in this remote part of the mountains.
“Are you a friend of the Mitchells?” she asked when she realized that he probably was part of the Hollywood elite, just like the people she was house-sitting for. “I’m staying at their place while they do a PR tour for their latest movie.”
“Mitchell?” He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of them, sorry.”
“Ah, but I bet you’ve heard of Millennium Woman Four: Space Invasion. That’s what they’re promoting right now. You know, Millennium Woman meets her nemesis, the evil Dr. Mars again, when he attacks with his new alien allies?”
Jonathan silently shook his head.
“Neither a movie nor a Hollywood sort of person then?” she asked.
Maybe she’d gotten him wrong after all...
“I always liked movies,” he said softly. He gave her a wry little smile. “But I haven’t really kept up to date with the pop culture of, oh, the last decade...”
“Oh? A hermit living all alone on this mountain, denying himself the evils of social media?” she teased with a smile. “I see. So, do you do yoga instead of going out to movies then?”
He laughed, as if she’d taken him by surprise with that.
He looked good when he laughed. It made his eyes shine, like sunlight sparkling on a frozen lake.
Something inside her made a little flip at the sight, and she felt a sinking feeling at the realization.
Oh, no. Oh, no! I can’t develop a crush on the guy who rescued me. He’s way out of my league...
Confused, she turned away from him to stare out at the storm again.
Also, there are way more important things at stake right now, she reminded herself.
Like two poor dogs lost in a blizzard.
“I’ve got to get out and look for them,” she said. “Maybe Diego’s smart enough to make it back home—but Lola’s old.”
Just how long had she been unconscious? Could the dogs survive a storm like this?
Instinctively, she hugged herself when she stared at the wind driving the snowflakes straight at the window.
She still remembered the biting cold and the wind. It had felt as if shards of ice had been hitting her face instead of snowflakes.
Then she remembered the way Lola always curled up by her side in the evening, begging for belly rubs.
Angel blinked back sudden tears. “I’ve got to go.”
“No way.” Jonathan was frowning at her. “You take ten steps out there, you won’t find your way back again.”
“So what do you suggest? That I let those poor dogs die?”
“No,” he said slowly. “I’ll go out. The cold’s not as bad for me. I’m used to it. And I know my way around here. I won’t get lost.”
“Oh, no, you won’t.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not going to watch you walk into a blizzard when it’s my own fault those dogs are out there.”
“From the sound of it, it sounds like it was the dog’s fault,” he said dryly. “Either way, you’ll have to trust me in this. I’ve been through worse storms. And unlike you, I didn’t almost die today.”
She bit her lips. The storm looked bad. And she really, really didn’t want to go back out.
But neither did she want to send him out to his death.
It was bad enough to lose two dogs. But if she ended up responsible for the death of two dogs and a man...
“Maybe we should both wait it out,” she said reluctantly.
As if on command, the howling of the wind outside increased.
Or was it the wind?
There it was again. It was a distinctive howl, low and mournful.
Could that be a dog?
A shiver ran through her when she realized that she’d heard that sound again. That was the howl that had drawn her deeper into the storm.
Could it be Diego? Could Diego be close even now?
“Did you hear that?” she asked.
Jonathan didn’t answer. When she turned, she saw that he had frozen, his eyes on the window. They seemed lit by a strange light—just for a moment, then it was gone again.
Probably just a weird reflection.
When he turned towards her a second later, his eyes looked perfectly normal. Gorgeous—but normal.
“You stay in here.” He spoke in a low voice, his brows drawn together.
He looked strangely unsettled, she realized all of a sudden. He didn’t meet her eyes, but all the muscles in his body had tensed, the tendons in his arms as taut as steel ropes when she reached out for him.
“You can’t go out—” she began.
He shook his head. “I’m not going far. I promise. If your dog’s nearby, I’m going to find him.”
The howl came again.
Could a dog make such a sound? Instinct made her think of a wolf.
She couldn’t say why that thought was so unsettling. There were no wolves out there. This wasn’t a fairy tale or a horror movie. This was just the usual mess she always got into.
Rescued by a gorgeous stranger, only to go to jail for failing to take care of two dogs.
He was already by the door when she shook those thoughts off.
“I really don’t think you should—” she began.
He opened the door, giving her a look over his shoulder.
She wanted to tell him to at least put on a coat, but then his eyes flashed with a strange silver light again. The words got stuck in her throat.
“Whatever happens, don’t go outside. I’ll be back, I promise,” he said.
Then he was gone, the howl of the storm abruptly dimmed when the door closed.
Hastily, Angel ran towards the window closest to the door. She pressed her face against it.
For one moment, she could see his broad-shouldered figure. Then he was gone, swallowed by the blizzard that continued to rage all around them.
Shit.
She should have found a way to stop him somehow. This was always how things started to go wrong in movies. People split up instead of staying together.
People went after weird sounds instead of staying where it was safe.
And now she was all alone here...
There was the howling sound again. It was definitely not the wind.
And it was closer now...
Instinctively, she hunched her shoulders. All of a sudden she felt cold agai
n.
She wanted to run back to the couch and go and hide beneath her blanket. But Jonathan was still out there, braving a blizzard for her dogs.
Braving a blizzard for Angel, who’d been stupid enough to lose not one dog, but two.
If Jonathan makes it back, if the doggies are fine—I promise I’ll study hard and never, ever let anyone distract me from school ever again, she silently prayed.
Just make him come back.
She should never have let him leave.
The howl came again. It was even louder now. It really didn’t sound like the wind—but it also didn’t sound like Diego.
Her heart beat faster when a strange memory resurfaced.
Teeth... Yellow eyes...
But the flash of memory was gone as quickly as it had appeared, lost in a strange mist.
I’ve never seen a wolf in my life. I probably had a nightmare when I was almost dying in the snow.
She pressed her face to the window again.
She still couldn’t see anything but the storm. The heavily falling snow had swallowed Jonathan within seconds.
He’s a grown man. And he said he’s used to this weather. He’s probably a ranger. He’ll be fine.
But it was hard to believe that. The blizzard outside only seemed to gain in intensity. The wind that continued to relentlessly drive snow against the windows sounded strangely angry.
She shivered, then shook her head.
I’m being silly. It’s a storm. And the howl is either Diego or just the storm blowing past a weird rock.
A moment later, she saw a shadow move within the storm from the corner of her eye.
As soon as she turned, it was gone. There was nothing but the endless white of the blizzard.
There’s nothing there. My mind is playing tricks on me.
There was the howl again. And this time, it was close.
Too close.
Swallowing, she took an instinctive step back from the window. Goosebumps rose all over her arms. She didn’t dare to take her eyes off the window.
Maybe it is a lost wolf. So what? He can’t come inside.
Only Jonathan was still outside...
She looked at the door.
And then something moved at the edges of her vision again.
With a gasp, she twirled around—and there, through the window across the room, she saw for a split second a vision that made her blood go cold.
A wolf.
But not just any wolf. A wolf larger than he had any right to be—as large as a bear, with sharp fangs and horrible yellow eyes.
Then he was gone again, and there was nothing but white to be seen.
I’m imagining things. Wolves don’t look like that. It’s just the shock from nearly dying...
Then the thing outside howled again—and a second later, there was an answering, challenging roar.
Angel had no idea what sort of animal made a sound like that.
The roar was loud and strong—but it wasn’t the roar of a bear. It carried a coldness with it, and when Angel reluctantly moved closer to the window again, she saw that icy flowers had bloomed on it.
Frost...
She couldn’t say what made her reach out and touch the glass, but when she did, she saw to her shock that the ice had spread on the inside of the window.
What’s going on...?
Her breath turned into white mist when she exhaled. Outside the window, the storm was still raging.
And then, there was a sound she’d never heard before. A rushing sound—almost like that of giant wings.
A helicopter...?
But helicopters didn’t fly into a blizzard. Furthermore, they were much louder.
There was a sudden flash of white fur outside when the storm seemed to lift for a heartbeat. She nearly cried out when she saw a wolf’s giant head, saliva dripping from sharp fangs as long as her fingers.
And then, in the second before the blizzard picked up once more, she saw something coming towards the wolf.
Something large.
Two wings beat the air, effortlessly resisting the anger of the storm. Two wings gleaming like diamonds, a powerful body glittering like ice—and a head crowned with a ruff of spikes that looked like a snowy mane.
The ice dragon...
Every beat of her heart sounded like a drum inside her chest. She couldn’t move as she stared at the impossible vision outside.
And then, just like that, the wind picked up and drove more snow against her window, the blizzard swallowing the strange beasts outside the hut.
Her heart was still racing. Her mouth dry, she clenched her fingers around the windowsill, leaning forward until her nose touched the frozen glass.
She still couldn’t see anything but the eternal white.
And then there was another howl, angry and loud.
A second later, it turned into a whine, and she could hear the strange, answering roar again.
A dragon’s roar...
Was she imagining all of this? Dragons didn’t exist, and neither did creepy, overgrown wolves.
Maybe I’m still asleep in the snow. Maybe I’m just dreaming all of this...
Then, out of the storm, the wolf was flung towards her. There was blood on his fur.
She could hear the thud dully echo through the house as he hit the outside wall.
Oh, shit. This really isn’t a dream. But it doesn’t make sense...
A second later, the wolf picked himself up. Blood was dripping from his bared teeth, and when he howled in rage, the storm seemed to increase in answer.
Is it the wolf who controls the storm...?
Then the wolf charged forward once more. Behind the veil of falling snow, Angel could dimly make out the vision of large wings spreading.
Then everything was swallowed by the snow again.
Damn it.
She hit the window frame, ignoring the ache of her fingers.
She had no idea what was going on outside—but she knew that the wolf scared her. If the wolf won...
The dragon won’t let him win.
She didn’t know how she knew that the dragon was protecting her, but he was. She knew.
She remembered her fall now. She remembered those final moments, crawling towards the shelter she’d found between his front paws.
She remembered feeling safe and warm at last.
And then she’d woken up here...
There was another angry howl echoing even through the roar of the storm. A moment later, it turned into a pained whine again.
And finally, for the first time since she’d woken in this cabin, the roar of the storm fell silent.
The snow was no longer falling quite as heavily. The wind was dying down.
Instead of snow being driven right against the window so that she could see nothing but white, she could make out the snow piled high on the front porch now.
There was no sight of the bestial wolf anywhere. She couldn’t even see any paw prints.
There was no sight of the ice dragon either.
But there, right at the edges of what she could see, she saw a body lying in the snow. It was the body of a man, with blond hair so pale it was almost the same color as the snow.
Jonathan!
Chapter Four: Jonathan
Jonathan was asleep.
But for the first time in a long, long while, he wasn’t surrounded by ice, his heart frozen until there was no emotion, no thought, no pain.
Instead, he felt warm.
Every beat of his heart pumped hot blood through his veins. He felt alive—beautifully alive.
And he felt at peace.
He was warm all over, resting on something soft. He dimly registered the comforting crackling of a fire, and he was surrounded by the most delicious smell.
A smell of cinnamon, vanilla, a hint of coconut.
He smiled in his dreams, remembering his grandma’s Christmas cookies.
Then he wrinkled his nose, resisting the urge to sneeze as somet
hing tickled him.
A moment later, he belatedly registered that he hadn’t been woken by the scent of Christmas cookies, but by the warm, somewhat spicy scent of a woman’s shampoo.
His cheek was nuzzling against soft hair.
And the warm presence in his arms wasn’t a pillow, but the deliciously curvy body of his mate.
He could hear her yawn softly. Then he felt the bed move as she sat up.
“Oh, good. You’re still alive,” she murmured, her voice warm. Her fingers pressed against his forehead.
It took effort to open his eyes.
What had happened to drain him so utterly of his energy? Even raising his eyelashes felt as if he was lifting a terrible weight.
“You’re awake!” She sounded relieved, a smile lighting up her gorgeous, honey-brown eyes. They were framed by thick, long lashes.
As he stared into them, still dazed, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss her eyelids, one after the other, then her cheeks, then the tip of her nose, and then, at last, those tempting, full, sensual lips...
“Can you hear me?” She leaned closer again. “You’re not running a fever, are you? You were as cold as ice when I found you.”
His mouth was dry. He had to swallow. For some reason, she was naked—and the sheet covering her had slipped down just enough to bare a generous breast and a delicious, dusky nipple.
“I’m fine.” It came out as a hoarse croak.
He wasn’t fine. Right now, sitting up seemed impossible. Whatever had he done that had left him so dangerously drained?
“You don’t sound fine,” she said reproachfully. A moment later, she seemed to realize that she was naked.
Even with her golden-brown skin, he could see heat rush to her face, her eyes widening as she hastily pulled the sheet up.
“Sorry,” she said, “it was the only way I could think of to warm you up. I thought you’d frozen to death out there. Even the fire didn’t seem to do much. And in the movies, they always claim that sharing body heat is the only way to survive a blizzard...”
The blizzard.
He remembered now. The unnatural blizzard. The dire wolf shifter who had found them.
He had fought the beast off with what little of his strength had remained after ten years in the ice. It was a surprise that he’d even managed that much.