Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“You don’t get to decide that,” I snap, but my voice wavers, the fight slipping through my grasp. I try to pull away, but his hold is unyielding, his thumb brushing against my sleeve, a touch I feel through every layer of fabric.
“This isn’t about you needing me, or me needing you, Emma,” he says, and there’s something raw in his voice, something that twists deep in my chest. “It’s about the fact that I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you. Not again.”
The snow swirls around us, a cocoon of white that shuts out the rest of the world. For a heartbeat, all I hear is the sound of our breaths, the wind howling through the trees, the rush of blood in my ears. His words cut through my defenses, and I feel something crack open inside me, the same ache that I’ve tried so hard to bury.
But I shake my head, breaking the moment, stepping back until his hand drops away. “This doesn’t change anything, Slate,” I whisper, even though my voice comes out rough, even though I can still feel the imprint of his touch on my skin.
He lets me go, his expression hardening again, but the heat in his eyes tells me this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. “We’ll see about that, Emma.”
I turn, trudging through the snow, forcing my legs to move, forcing myself to ignore the way my body still hums from his touch, the way my heart thuds against my ribs. The wind lashes at my face, but I keep going, trying to put distance between us, trying to shut out the feeling that he’s still right behind me, shadowing my every step.
And even though I don’t look back, I know he’s there, watching me, his presence a steady weight in the back of my mind. It’s maddening, infuriating, and a part of me hates how much I want to close the distance between us, to turn around and close that infuriating mouth of his with my own.
But I won’t give him that satisfaction. Not yet. Not when every step away from him feels like a victory, no matter how hollow it might be.
The snow falls heavier, thicker, turning the forest into a blur of white and shadows. My boots crunch through the drifts, each step harder than the last, the cold sinking deeper into my bones. My breath burns in my lungs, my legs aching with the effort, but I don’t stop. I won’t.
Not when Slate’s voice still echoes in my ears, his words sinking under my skin, stirring up everything I thought I’d buried for good.
Not when his touch lingers on my arm like a brand, even through the layers of my coat.
And especially not when a part of me, a part I’d rather freeze out here than admit, is glad that he’s still following, still watching, still waiting for the moment when I slip—so he can catch me all over again.
Chapter Four
Slate
The wind rips through the trees like it’s trying to tear the whole mountain apart. Snow slices at my face, cuts through my jacket, bites into my skin. My breath comes out in sharp, cold bursts, fogging the air in front of me. But I keep my eyes on her. I track Emma through the whiteout, every unsteady step she takes twisting something deep in my chest. She’s fighting the snow like she’s got something to prove, like she’s too stubborn to admit she’s in over her head.
“Stubborn as hell,” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it, just a tight knot of frustration. Snow falls thicker, faster, swallowing up the path in front of her, making it impossible to see more than a few feet. I can barely make out her shape through the sheets of white, the way her legs start to buckle, the way she sways against the wind.
“Damn it, Emma,” I growl under my breath, knowing she can’t hear me. I should’ve stepped in sooner, should’ve stopped her before she got this far. But she would’ve hated me for it, would’ve fought me every step of the way. So I let her try, let her push herself until she’s on the edge. But that’s as far as I’ll let it go.
When she drops to one knee, her breath coming out in ragged gasps that fog the air, I make my move. I surge forward, snow crunching under my boots as I cut through the storm, every step a battle against the wind. My muscles strain, burning from the cold and the effort, but I close the distance between us in seconds.
She barely has time to look up before I’m there, grabbing her arm and hauling her upright with a strength that makes her gasp. Her eyes widen, shock flashing across her face, and then her expression hardens into that familiar defiance.