A Snowed in Valentine’s (Holiday Shifters of Frost Mountain #10)

Chapter Twelve

Fire and Snow

She missed the days when falling asleep simply meant sinking into sleep, whether that was accompanied by dreams or merely hours of unconsciousness. Ever since she’d cast that spell and split herself in two, sleeping meant traveling from one world to another. It might not have been such a problem if she weren’t still in the custody of the FBI.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. In times like this, after what had just happened with August, she felt relieved, if anything, to be back here.

She was alone in the room until Carter and O’Hara returned, which meant plenty of space and time to think about what had taken place in the cabin. Back on Frost Mountain, she was no doubt still asleep in August’s strong arms.

Or had time already moved forward? This business of dimensional travel wasn’t easy to get used to. Several weeks had passed on Frost Mountain since she first found herself on Earth, yet she suspected barely a day had gone by on Earth.

She’d figure that out later. Right now, she needed to think.

You definitely like him , said that familiar voice in her head.

Daphne didn’t bother denying it. What had occurred confirmed their attraction to each other. Those moments in front of the fireplace had been…electric? Passionate? She wasn’t sure any words could accurately describe the experience. Forget the insignia on her hand—the man had made a mark on her heart that she wanted to keep forever.

But what did that mean for the two of them? She remembered what he’d told her about his history as a witch hunter. For all she knew, he probably thought what had happened was a mistake.

The memory of August kissing her neck, of August’s lips forming the words I’m sorry, crossed her mind then, blotting out that smidgen of doubt.

That aside, she was still stuck in this sticky situation with little hope of getting out.

No, not little hope. There had to be a way to fix things.

In fact, there just might be.

Hope surged through her like an electric current.

This is going to work, she told herself.

She twisted slightly in her seat, looking right at her reflection in the two-way mirror, certain that someone was still on the other side, watching her.

“Look,” she said, “you want to know what the words in the Book of Nyx mean? Bring it, and I’ll tell you.” She paused for a moment, then, in a bid to make herself sound more convincing, she added, “But you’ll have to let me go if I do this. Do we have a deal or not?”

There was no response, and for the next minute, she sat wondering whether she’d been wrong about the room surveillance.

Then, the door swung open slowly.

***

Hours had passed. August was aware of that the second his eyes flickered open. He looked around, taking in his surroundings and lingering on the cracks in the walls. It was semi-dark outside. It was either the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning.

Still wrapped in his embrace, Daphne stirred but remained asleep. He’d pulled their clothes back on before falling asleep himself, but he could still feel her breasts crushed against his torso. He replayed the memory of what had happened hours ago and felt a light stirring his groin. His growing erection was nestled against her thigh, and the slightest movement brought a hiss to his lips as he fought to remain still.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Daphne nod at him and saw her body clench as he slid into her. He could still hear her moans and cries as if from a distance. The entire experience had been nothing less than intense. It had been hours ago, yet the sensation of her soft body clenching around his, of her breast between his lips, of her lips parting and her eyes locked on him as he pleasured her, remained burned into his mind.

Control yourself , he told himself.

He rested his gaze on her face. Her eyes were closed, but he could still remember her grey eyes widening as they rocked together. Even now, she was a stunning sight. In his embrace, she slept peacefully. It felt…right.

It should not feel this way.

He understood this with absolute certainty. She was a witch, and he was a hunter. Not just any hunter, but a witch hunter. They weren’t just different—they were sworn enemies. He should be the bane of her existence. Yet all he had done since she came into his life was try to prolong and preserve hers. She was a threat, a bomb that could go off at any moment, and here he was, holding her in his arms as though she was his lover.

Is she not?

He started to brush the thought aside but froze, stunned at the warm flutter in his chest that he realized was his heartbeat. He took a few deep breaths and then some more. This woman had come into his life and somehow enchanted him, even while her magic had been bound. He’d been bewitched.

Keep telling yourself that, August. It’s easier than entertaining the other possibility.

That was true. The other possibility was that he might actually be falling in love with this woman, and that would be terrible because if it were true, then it meant a betrayal, not only of himself but of his entire lineage, of Alaina’s memory, of everything he’d known to be true or real.

A witch hunter in love with a witch. The thought didn’t sit well in his mind. But his heart and mind weren’t always in concert. This was one of the times.

Valentine’s Day was in a matter of weeks. The anniversary of Alaina’s death. And he just might be spending it around a witch whose body he had already explored more than once in a ravenous frenzy. Guilt prodded his mind at that thought. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way because Alaina was gone now. Yet a part of him also knew that he should feel guilty because the woman now in his arms represented the danger he had devoted his life to eliminating.

I’m still alive, she’d told him the other day. What changed?

A crackle brought his attention to the fire, which was slowly dying, resulting in a gradual drop in temperature. The light in the living room had grown dim. They would be out of firewood soon. And what would happen then? Perhaps he would start tossing the floorboards into the fire to keep it going.

With some reluctance, he let go of Daphne, setting her gently on the floor next to him. She sighed in her sleep and curled up in a ball, her golden hair sweeping across her face. Smiling to himself, he turned and went to grab a couple of logs, chucking them onto the fire, one after the other.

He never saw the explosion coming.

One second, he was tossing logs into the fireplace, and the next, a gust of wind filled the fireplace, and there was a burst of flame. He fell backward onto his behind, staring in shock as the flames spread from the fireplace, snaking up the walls to the rafters.

The entire living room was on fire now, a flame brighter than he’d ever seen.

August’s eyes widened. The cabin was burning!

His heart threatened to explode as he hurried over to Daphne’s unconscious form. The explosion hadn’t roused her from sleep. From what August could see, the flames had singed a few strands of her hair. Her clothes were somewhat blackened. Other than that, she seemed okay. For now.

The fire was spreading overhead. Even the walls were ablaze now. The air seemed to shimmer with heat. How was a fire possible in this weather, he wondered, but a single priority filled his mind: Protect her. Hooking his hands under Daphne’s armpits, he pulled her as far away from the fireplace as he could.

“No!” he screamed as a burning beam fell from above. He moved his body and hers out of the way before it hit them, and it landed heavily on the floorboards. If he’d been a hair slower…

It didn’t matter. The flames were going to consume the cabin before long. The falling beam was only the beginning. They needed to get out of there before the whole place burned down around them. But how? The exits were still blocked by snow, making the cabin that had been his home for so many decades a death trap.

His eyes continued to scan their surroundings for something, anything that might help them escape. His gaze landed on the table in the corner, but he had only a moment to consider ducking under it with Daphne before the flames reached it as well.

Damnit! The cabin was growing hotter by the second. If falling beams didn’t kill them, they would get burned to death or suffocate as the flames consumed the breathable air around them.

He heard a deep groan, causing him to glance up.

“Oh, no,” he said.

And then he did the only thing that made sense to him at that moment: he dropped into a crouch, cradling Daphne in his arms, and shielded her body with his as the roof of the cabin came down, plunging everything into darkness.

***

He could barely hear a thing, and for a moment, he assumed he must be dead. Then, it dawned on him that if he could still fathom such an idea, then he must be alive. He drew a deep breath, filling his lungs with air and gratitude.

He was still crouched down, still holding Daphne’s body in his arms. Snow and blackened wood surrounded them, and there was some charcoal on the ground around him, but…he was alive. Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his head. The roof had collapsed, along with the rest of the cabin. But August had been spared. A pair of beams falling at the same time had gotten stuck among the rubble, barely a foot above his head. If they hadn’t, both August and Daphne would have been crushed to death.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as concern gripped his heart again. There was no telling how long the beams would remain in place. He needed to find a way out of there. He searched their surroundings until he spied on a small opening in the rubble. His heart fluttered with relief as he pulled Daphne toward the opening, taking great care not to injure her in the process. He didn’t stop moving until he was clear of the collapsed cabin. Outside, the blizzard continued to rage, the wind howling in his ears, flecks of snow pelting him.

Damn, he thought, squinting at the spot where the cabin had once stood.

He never guessed the thing would explode. Perhaps it had something to do with the wood. The flames had engulfed the structure before he could contain them; between that and the fact that he’d been concentrating on Daphne, he’d lost his only home.

Daphne.

He drew his attention back to her, his heartbeat accelerating once again. She was still alive, right? Unhurt? The other possibility lingered in the back of his mind, but he refused to acknowledge it.

With trembling fingers, he took her hand in his, checking her wrist for a pulse, and breathed a sigh as he detected it, somewhat faint but steady. It wasn’t until he started to lower her hand that he realized something wasn’t quite right.

The binding mark—the Kane insignia—was gone.

The back of her hand was completely bare. August swallowed. The mark must have been burned off somehow in the accident. The explosion that had singed her hair must have also erased it. The witch was free again.

His heart thudded in his ribcage at the thought. She was unbound now, free to use her magic as she pleased. August stared at her sleeping form. He could kill her now while she was still unconscious, and he’d never have to worry about her somehow lashing out with her powers.

Do it, urged a voice in his head. Kill her now before it’s too late.

August discarded the thought, stomaching the guilt that swept through him as he did. He lifted her body in his arms, cradling her against him, and began to trudge through the blizzard, wondering how long they would survive out here before it claimed them.