Chapter 12 #2
If she’d handled everything better, she wouldn’t be in this mess.
If she’d come clean to her father in a calm, rational presentation, she wouldn’t have lost her temper—probably.
She definitely wouldn’t have fought with Sebastian.
And she wouldn’t have ridden out alone. Regret weighed on her as much as her sodden clothes.
There’d be no chance to fix any of it. Even if people were out looking for her, who could search in all this?
They wouldn’t even know where to look. At best, she’d be hypothermic well before morning.
At worst…she wasn’t quite ready to think about the worst. Because the worst meant never seeing Sebastian again. Never telling him she loved him.
She wasn’t ready to give up yet.
Please, God. Please, show me the way. Don’t let this be the end.
But as the cold seeped into her very marrow, no answer appeared.
The hands she’d shoved under her armpits had gone past cold, past pain, and into numb.
So had her feet. Even if she’d wanted to risk climbing in the dark, she’d never be able to hold on to anything now.
The rain continued to drum, stinging her cheeks.
Then she stopped feeling even that as her body slid into what she knew was dangerously cold territory.
Was she even shivering anymore? Laurel couldn’t tell.
It got hard to keep her eyes open, hard to keep track of the endless, wet night.
When her body slid, tipping over to one side, she couldn’t even catch herself.
There was no muscle control. No more will.
Not even more sense of cold. She was past that.
In some dark recess of her mind, a tiny voice was screaming for her to wake up, sit up, do something to get the blood flowing, to generate warmth. But she was beyond able to listen.
Maybe freezing wouldn’t be the worst way to go.
Laurel.
Her brain was shouting at her again, louder this time. Deeper, too. When had her inner voice started to sound like Sebastian? She’d like to dream of him as she went. She’d read somewhere that freezing wasn’t such a bad way to die. That you just went to sleep and didn’t wake up again.
“Laurel!” The voice was louder this time. That definitely sounded like Sebastian. And he sounded…close? But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
With great effort, she pried her eyes open in time to see the bright arc of a shooting star. Was it lighting her way to heaven?
She listened, straining to hear her name again, but there was nothing. Closing her eyes again, she tried to find her way into the dream. At least there she could say what was in her heart.
“Laurel! Jesus God.” And then he was there, her beautiful, badass angel, wrapping her in his arms. Laurel curled into him, wanting to chase this fantasy. The fantasy was warm.
“Baby. Come on. Wake up. You need to look at me. Christ, please wake up.” Dream Sebastian was freaking out. That didn’t seem right. Neither did the stroke of pain along her cheek.
Forcing her eyes open one last time, she saw him. It was dark, and the outline was vague, but she’d know him anywhere. He stroked her face again.
“Ow,” she groaned.
He made a noise like a wounded animal, and suddenly she was shifted as he pulled her tighter against him. Because he was here. Holy hell, he was really here. He’d come after her. The heart that had slowed with the cold began to thud painfully in her chest.
Sebastian.
She tried to say his name but her lips wouldn’t form the word. The only sound that escaped was a whimper.
“It’s gonna be okay, baby. I’ve gotcha. I promise”
Beyond exhausted, her eyes fell shut again, and she sank deeper into the black.
The next time it receded, she felt the uneven rhythm of a horse. Mustering the last of her energy, she cracked her eyes open again.
She was on a horse. Tied to the saddle. Up ahead, a dark figure had hold of the reins, leading them up a rocky path. Sebastian. She recognized his gait. Her ears hummed with the silence, but for the clop of hooves. It was no longer raining. White swirled in the air around them. Snow?
Were they really getting a white Christmas?
Something about that struck her as funny, and she began to laugh. The sound came out more like a weak, coughing groan, but it was enough to get Sebastian’s attention.
“Laurel? Are you awake?”
He was beside her in a moment, one hand on her leg. She saw it, but she couldn’t feel the pressure. What did that mean?
Weaving in the saddle, she had a hard time focusing. “Sebastian? Am I alive?”
He made a choked sort noise in his throat and reached up to touch her face. “Yeah. And I’m gonna make sure you stay that way.”
She felt him. The touch of his gloved fingers against her skin, a bloom of pain. Which meant he was here. Not in a dream or a hallucination, but flesh and blood. He’d saved her.
“Okay.”
“Stay awake. I need you to stay with me, baby.”
“Can’t.”
“Laurel!” She could hear the alarm and command in his voice and knew she was scaring him, but she was too tired to do more than trust that he’d carry out his promise. So she let herself slide into complete oblivion.