Chapter 2 #2
Sandy and Leigh claimed the far tent immediately. I was left with the one closest to the fire pit, which meant I was also closest to the larger one James, Len and Charlie were sharing. Mr Boone and I had each carried our own one-man tent.
Dinner was freeze-dried camping food rehydrated with hot water. It tasted salty, but I ate it anyway. Calories were calories.
"So," Leigh said, settling cross-legged by the fire. "Anyone know any good stories?"
"I know a joke," Charlie offered. "Why don't scientists trust atoms?"
"If you say 'because they make up everything,' I'm pushing you in the fire," Sandy said.
Charlie closed his mouth.
"I know some stories," Mr. Boone said. He was sitting back from the flames, his face half in shadow. "Old ones. The kind they used to tell up here before the academy existed."
"Creepy ones?" Leigh asked hopefully.
"Some of them."
We all leaned in. Even Sandy, who’d been pretending to be bored all day, shifted closer to the fire.
“The Inupiat have stories about wolves,” Mr. Boone said. “Old ones.”
The fire cracked. Something moved beyond the ring of light. Probably wind.
“They spoke of the Amarok—giant wolves that hunted alone. Not packs. One.”
He nudged the fire, sparks lifting and vanishing into the dark.
“There’s a story about a young hunter who decided he didn’t need his village anymore. Said he moved faster by himself. Quieter. Took risks no group would.”
Mr. Boone paused, letting the fire pop.
“On the third night, he heard it.”
We leaned in without meaning to.
“Not a growl. Not footsteps. Just the sound of snow shifting where it shouldn’t. Always behind him. Always close enough to feel.”
He glanced into the trees, then back at the fire.
“He stopped sleeping. Every time he closed his eyes, the silence pressed in harder than the cold. He started talking out loud, just to hear another voice—even if it was his own.”
Leigh swallowed. “What happened to him?”
Boone shrugged.
“Some say he dropped his pack and ran for the village when he finally understood what alone really meant. Others say the Amarok walked away the moment the man turned back.”
The fire cracked, sharp and loud.
“And some say the snow kept his tracks, but the village never saw him again.”
"Cheerful," Sandy muttered.
"Old stories usually aren't." He stood, brushing off his pants. "Get some sleep. We've got fifteen miles tomorrow."
The group broke apart slowly, drifting toward tents. I stayed by the fire, watching the embers pulse.
"Hey."
James dropped onto the log beside me. Close enough that I could feel his warmth, far enough that we weren't touching.
"Hey."
"Good story."
"If you like being told you're going to die alone in the wilderness."
He laughed quietly. "That's not what it was about and you know it."
I did know it. That was the problem.
"You kept up today," I said, instead of acknowledging his point.
"Barely. You set a hell of a pace."
"Mr. Boone told me to slow down."
"Good thing he did. Sandy was about to commit murder."
I almost smiled. Almost.
"Why are you here, James?"
"At Frosthaven? Same reason as everyone else, I guess."
"No, I mean here. Sitting next to me. Following me around. Waiting outside my dorm."
He was quiet for a moment. The fire crackled between us, casting shadows across his face.
"You know why."
"I want to hear you say it."
"Because I can't stop thinking about you." His voice was low, rough. "Because when I saw you in that stairwell, something clicked into place that I didn't even know was missing. Because every time you walk away from me, I feel like I'm losing something important."
The words landed in my chest like stones.
"James—"
"I'm not asking for anything," he said quickly. "I know you don't want this. Whatever this is. I'm not trying to pressure you or make you uncomfortable. I just..." He exhaled. "I just want to be honest. About what's happening. Because ignoring it isn't making it go away."
He was right. Ignoring it wasn't working. The mate bond was still there, humming under my skin every time he got close, making my heart do stupid things whenever he smiled.
But I had a plan. I had Denali. I had a wolf in the snow who was waiting for me to be ready.
I didn't have room for this.
"I can't," I said softly.
"Can't what?"
"Any of it. I'm not here for..." I waved my hand vaguely between us. "This. I have something I need to do. Something important. And I can't let anything distract me from it."
"Climbing mountains."
I looked at him sharply. "What?"
"Ivy mentioned it. Said you're obsessed with mountain climbing." He held up his hands when my expression darkened.
I was going to kill Ivy.
"It's complicated," I said.
"I figured."
"And personal."
"I figured that too."
"And none of your business."
"Ouch." But he was almost smiling. "Fair enough."
We sat in silence for a moment. The fire had burned down to coals, glowing orange in the darkness. The stars were coming out overhead, more than I'd ever seen anywhere else. Up here, away from everything, the sky looked infinite.
"I'm not going to stop," James said quietly.
"Stop what?"
"Being around. Keeping up. Trying to make you smile, even when you're determined to be miserable." He stood, brushing ash off his jeans. "You can push me away all you want, Lumi. I'm patient."
"Stubbornness isn't the same as patience."
"Good thing I've got both."
He walked toward his tent, leaving me alone by the dying fire.
I stayed until the coals went dark, thinking about wolves who hunted alone and the people who refused to let them.
The hike back the next day was easier.
I kept a reasonable pace. Mr. Boone nodded approvingly. Sandy stopped looking like she wanted to strangle me. And James stayed close — not crowding, not pushing, just present. A steady warmth at the edge of my awareness that I couldn't quite ignore.
He made Leigh laugh with a story about a cow that had escaped his family's ranch back in Montana. He helped Len fix a broken boot strap with paracord and duct tape. He noticed when Charlie was flagging and distracted Mr. Boone with a question so Charlie could catch his breath without embarrassment.
He was kind. Thoughtlessly, consistently kind. The sort of person who helped because it was the right thing to do, not because he wanted anything in return.
I watched him and felt the mate bond pulse in my chest, insistent and undeniable.
Not now, I told it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But the bond didn't listen.
And neither, I was starting to realize, did James.