Chapter 2
Mallory
She had survived falling off a cliff. She had not survived the man who saved her.
Mallory lay sprawled on the ridiculously soft hotel bed later that afternoon with one arm flung over her eyes while she stared at the faint outline of the ceiling beams through her lashes.
Whoever had designed the mattress clearly believed in being extra.
It felt like what she imagined it would be like to float on a cloud. Normally, she’d love it.
But today, her stomach kept doing somersaults.
“Oh my word,” Violet said from the doorway as she entered the room. “You look like someone just stole your ice cream.”
Mallory groaned and pressed her forearm harder against her face. “Please don’t talk to me.”
“Oh no,” Brooke chimed in and plopped onto the foot of the bed. “That tone means something happened that she hasn’t told us about.”
Mallory peeked between her fingers. Big mistake. Both her friends grinned like they’d already won.
“This is about that man we caught a glimpse of, isn’t it?” Violet asked. Her eyes sparkled. “Isn’t it?”
Mallory sat up with a huff. She hadn’t wanted to tell them the whole story, but they were like a dog sniffing for a bone and were not going to let it go. “I almost fell off a cliff.”
Brooke blinked. “You say that like it’s not an important detail that we needed to know. How could you not have told us that already? What happened?”
“I slipped,” Mallory said quickly. “It was icy. Totally avoidable. And then…well…” She stopped.
“And then?” Violet prompted and leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve kept your secret long enough. Spill it.”
Mallory scrubbed her hands over her face. “And then that guy caught me.”
Brooke made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a squeal. “He did? Who is he?”
“A guide,” Mallory said. “Or… a local? I don’t know. Tall. Very… strong.”
Violet’s grin widened. “Strong.”
“Do not make this weird,” Mallory warned, though her cheeks were already heating.
Brooke clutched her chest in a fake swoon. “Too late. Please continue.”
“He just… I don’t know.” Mallory gestured helplessly. “One second I was falling, the next I wasn’t. He grabbed my wrists and yanked me back up. Like it was nothing; like I weighed nothing. Like…” She stopped again and frustration tightened her throat. “Like he had the strength of Hercules.”
The room went quiet for half a beat.
Then Violet sighed dramatically. “A true mountain prince.”
“All the makings of a romance novel,” Brooke added.
Mallory groaned and flopped backward onto the bed. “I hate you both.” They had been friends for so long that there was no danger of hurt feelings.
“Come on,” Brooke said as she pushed Mallory on the leg. “Our appointments to get a little pampering are in fifteen minutes.”
They didn’t stop teasing her all the way down the hall or even into the elevator. By the time they reached the spa, Mallory’s face hurt from blushing and she had no desire to get a massage.
“You’re not coming?” Brooke asked when Mallory slowed and hovered near the elevator doors.
Mallory shook her head. “I think I’m going to lie down. Clear my head.”
Violet gave her a knowing look. “Sure you are.”
“You two go ahead. Get your spa day and go to dinner. Just bring me back something.”
Mallory escaped back to her room and locked the door like the man himself might be hiding in the hallway. She refused to dwell on the sensations she had felt in her brief contact with Jakob. None of it made any sense.
Now, hours later, she stared up at the ceiling again, alone with her thoughts and the thick notebook lying half-open beside her.
She reached for it and her fingers brushed the worn cover.
Inside were clippings, scribbled notes, half-formed timelines.
Meg’s name was written more times than Mallory could count.
The real reason why she was in Onyxheim.
The quiet hotel room mocked her. Mallory had learned the hard way what silence sounded like. It hummed in unanswered calls, in the empty chair at the kitchen table, in the way her phone never lit up with Meg’s name anymore.
Her older sister had vanished two years prior without a trace.
No goodbye. No explanation. Just a phone that was powered off and a questionable trail that eventually evaporated.
Mallory had chased every rumor she could find, every whisper that might mean something.
She followed fake clues across county lines, sat through awkward interviews with people who turned out to just want their fifteen minutes of fame, and learned to hate the look of pity in strangers’ eyes.
Most days, she told herself she was being practical. Grief disguised as persistence. Hope dressed up as logic.
But some nights, when sleep refused to come, she admitted the truth: she was terrified of stopping. Because if she didn’t push forward, if she quit the search, it would mean that her sister was gone and not just missing.
And then she found Meg’s diary full of nonsense, but one name.
A place. A name mentioned twice by different people who didn’t know each other at places her sister had frequented.
A place that surfaced in online forums, chat rooms, and late-night conversations at bars where no one asked last names.
Each time Mallory heard it, her chest tightened like her body recognized something her mind had missed.
That place sat on the edge of the map. It was a destination that most had never heard of and even if they had, the cold weather discouraged most. It was easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it, but perfect if you didn’t want to be found.
Or if someone didn’t want you to be found.
Her instincts whispered the same thing they had for months. Whatever had happened to Meg, it had something to do with her current location.
The Iskara Northlands.
She flipped the notebook open but the words blurred together. Her mind betrayed her, replaying the moment again on the cliff.
The sudden slip. The sickening drop.
And then strong and steady hands locking around her wrist. The way he’d pulled her back like gravity itself belonged to him. How close he’d been. How his eyes had searched her face, intense and startlingly gentle at the same time.
“You’re safe,” he’d said, voice low and firm.
She’d believed him instantly.
Mallory slammed the notebook shut and covered her face with both hands. “Get it together, Mal.”
This was ridiculous. People slipped and fell all the time. People got help after falling. Normal, everyday stuff. It didn’t mean anything.
And yet her body remembered. The warmth of him against the cold air. The quiet certainty in his touch. The way her knees had gone weak after he let go, like her balance had depended on more than just the ground beneath her feet.
She rolled onto her side and yanked the comforter over her head, curling in on herself like a turtle retreating into its shell.
Focus. Meg. On the leads. On the reality, not a fairy tale that didn’t exist.
As evening crept in, the light faded from gold to deep blue shadows. Somewhere outside, laughter echoed faintly from the courtyard. Mallory’s breathing slowed despite herself.
Sleep came quickly.
She dreamed of his strong arms pulling her close and holding her tight. His breath against her ear.
But there was something else this time that she hadn’t felt on a conscious level. Something deeper, like a low hum beneath the surface full of power coiled just under skin. Not dangerous. Not exactly.
Just… alive.
Fingertips brushed her cheek. A voice whispered her name and even in her subconscious, the sound vibrated straight through her chest.
Mallory leaned into it without thinking.
Then she jolted awake.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She sat straight up in the dim room and one hand flew to her throat. The dream clung to her like a memory that refused to fade.
“Oh no,” she whispered and dropped her forehead to her knees.
Dreaming about a stranger? A man she’d known for maybe five minutes? That was embarrassing. That was unhinged.
She flopped back onto the pillows and groaned into them. She could feel her cheeks burn.
She was on holiday. She was here to relax. To chase leads. To find her sister.
And somehow all she could think about was the mysterious man with eyes so blue they reminded her of a peacock, who had caught her like she belonged in his arms. A man she would probably never see again.
Which, Mallory told herself firmly as she stared into the dark, was for the best.
Even if part of her, the annoyingly loud, reckless part, wished she could fall asleep again.
Just to feel safe like that one more time.
End of the Sample!