Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“Shut up.” I hitch her up my chest until our noses touch. “You’re the hardiest woman I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of women. At least four.”
“Funny.” She groans. “Put me down.”
I’d rather die.
Leo storms toward us, the stark white of his eyes shining brighter than the moon. Yanking off his glove, he touches her face and captures her hooded gaze. “You’re done.”
Too weak to argue, she hangs limply in the cradle of my hold.
He stares at her, rapidly blinking as if trying to keep his eyes open. Yeah, he’s done, too.
“Take her inside. I’ll finish up.” I transfer her into his arms.
She weighs less than air, this fragile beauty of human endurance. She should’ve hung up her shovel hours ago, but that’s not how she’s built.
“Are you sure?” He studies me.
“Yep. I have hours left in me.”
“Watch your back.” He surveys the hills, the shadowed valleys, and the crossbow strapped to my spine. “She’s not patching you up tonight.”
“Not true,” she mumbles into his neck.
A crooked grin pulls the corner of his mouth, but it quickly falls away as he rescans the surrounding darkness.
Searching for wolves.
This time of year, the scarcity of prey forces them from the hills to hunt elsewhere. They’ll start circling Hoss, if they’re not already.
With my injuries fully healed, I can take on the whole pack. We need meat.
But where do we draw the line? A week ago, we fed Denver’s corpse to those beasts. Imagining his flesh in their teeth doesn’t exactly whet my appetite. It turns my fucking stomach.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Bending over the woman in his arms, I press a kiss to her forehead.
Frowning, he tucks her closer and carries her off to the cabin. Once they’re safely inside, I return to my task.
As the night presses on, he comes out multiple times to help, but I send him back inside to watch over our girl.
Under the Alaskan sky, I labor without stopping, growing more lightheaded by the second and cold in a way that has nothing to do with the climate. But I’m determined to finish.
A beautiful woman waits for me in the cabin, keeping my spot warm beside her on the bed. Soon, my spot will be between her legs where she’s soft and sweet and smells like cherries, primed for my teeth.
The thought keeps me going until I lose sensation in my arms. A low buzz circulates through me. My knees hitch, and my stomach feels weird. I probably just need a break. And food.
Definitely need to eat.
I step back and examine my progress.
Three dark letters, each thirty feet in length, carved into the moonlit snow.
SOS.
Save our souls.
Almost finished. Just a few more loads of debris and—
I feel it, the moment my body gives up. The limits of my strength hit my muscles, turning everything into meltwater. My knees sink to the ground, then my hands, my chest. Debilitation floods sinew and bone, softening every living part of me. It’s not the cold or the exertion. I’m used to those things.
It’s the lack of food.
I ate two meals but not nearly enough calories to fuel the day’s activity.
Digging my elbows into the snow, I try to crawl toward the cabin, but my limbs are too sluggish, too heavy. I’m so fucking tired, it tugs on my eyelids and blackens my vision.
Oh, fuck. Not good.
As consciousness tries to abandon me, I hear approaching steps and pray they belong to boots, not paws. Tracking the sound, I cling to awareness with every beat of my heart.
Stay awake. Stay awake.
My fingers fumble for the crossbow on my back, but my fine motor control is gone. I can’t release the straps, can’t even pry my eyes open. Removing one of my knives proves impossible.
I try to shout, but my voice sounds muffled, echoing in the hinterland of my mind.
All I want is sleep. With a pillow of snow under my cheek and the howling song of wolves in my ears, I surrender to the darkness.
Until something slams into my side, shooting unholy pain through my ribs. I yowl in agony, but the sound is drowned out by gunfire.
Directly above my head.
“Get up!” Leo kicks me again, my shoulder this time, and fires at something behind me.
Blurry silhouettes. Pounding headache. Wooziness. Why is my face in the snow?
“Jesus Christ.” He shoots off another round. Then his hands are on me, hauling me off the ground. “As stubborn as she is. If I don’t kill you both by the end of winter, it’ll be a fucking miracle.”
He drags me like a slaughtered carcass across the tundra, stopping every few feet to spray bullets at the shadows.
“Frankie!” More gunfire. Then he’s pulling me again. “Get your fucking ass inside!”
“I can…wah…walk.” My tongue doesn’t feel right, sticking to my lips like dry ice.
“Can’t even talk.” He halts, letting my body crumple against something hard.