CHAPTER 10
Mallory
Mallory dreamed of wings.
She dreamed of soaring above snow-covered mountains, the world spread wide and endless beneath her. Wind roared past her ears, sharp and clean, yet she never felt cold. Instead, a powerful warmth surrounded her, solid and sure, like an embrace she hadn’t known she’d been craving.
She wasn’t falling. She was held.
Beneath it all, under the rush of air and the gleam of sunlight on snow, there was a presence. Strong. Steady. Fiercely protective.
It wrapped around her awareness without asking permission, not invasive but absolute, as if it had always been there and she was only just now noticing. White light shimmered everywhere, blinding and beautiful, and for one fragile, perfect moment, Mallory felt completely safe.
Then the light flared and she woke with a sharp breath.
She was warm. Way too warm.
Mallory blinked and her vision swam as unfamiliar shapes came into focus. A wooden ceiling stretched above her, dark beams crossed with age and smoke stains. The air smelled like pine, clean wool, and something herbal and bitter.
Her body protested when she tried to move. Pain flared along her ribs and down her leg, dull but insistent.
“What…?” Her voice came out thin and hoarse.
A woman leaned into view, her face lined but kind, with gray hair pulled back in a loose braid. She carried the calm competence of someone used to injuries and fear. “Easy there,” the woman said gently and pressed a warm hand to Mallory’s shoulder. “Don’t try to sit up yet. You took a nasty fall.”
Mallory frowned as she tried to piece things together. The mountain. The trail. The sudden weight of something slamming into her.
“The mountain cat,” she said and her panic spiked. “It came out of nowhere.”
The woman’s expression softened. “It’s gone. Ran off before anyone could get a good look at it.”
“Ran off?” Mallory echoed faintly. That didn’t sound right. She remembered teeth. Claws. The certainty that she wasn’t going to make it.
“You were very lucky,” the woman continued. “A man found you not far from the ridge and brought you here. You received a horrible blow to the back of your head from the fall. A rock, I believe.”
Lucky. The word rang hollow.
Mallory swallowed, her throat dry. “How long was I out?”
“Two days,” the woman said. “You had us worried for a bit. The healer worried he may not be able to save you.”
After sipping some soup, Mallory’s gaze drifted to the small window set into the far wall. Pale daylight filtered through and clouds drifted lazily past jagged mountain peaks. She should have been hypothermic, broken, or worse.
Instead, she was alive. Bruised and aching, but alive.
Her body didn’t hurt as badly as it should have.
Fragments flickered through her mind. The animal’s weight, the terror and the pain, and then…
Flying.
Heat rushed to her face, even as she lay still beneath the blankets. That couldn’t be real. It was ridiculous. Her brain scrambled to make sense of trauma.
“Is it…” She hesitated, then shook her head. “Never mind.”
The woman studied her for a long moment as if considering whether to push. Then she smiled again. “Rest. I’ll be back with some more food.”
When the door closed behind her, the room suddenly felt too quiet.
Mallory stared at the ceiling, listening to the crackle of a fire somewhere nearby. She lifted a hand slowly and stared at it as she remembered the feel of… of what?
She pressed her hand to her chest and imagined she felt smooth leather and warmth again. The phantom sensation made her fingers curl.
A dragon, her mind whispered traitorously.
She scoffed aloud and the sound echoed in the stillness. “Get a grip.”
She wasn’t a child and dragons weren’t real. Shock did strange things to the brain. That much she knew. Fear and adrenaline could twist memories into anything.
Still…
The memory refused to fade. The thunderous beat of massive wings. The way the presence had wrapped around her, claiming without frightening, protecting without hesitation.
Her heart twisted painfully as she wondered just how hard she had hit her head.
Jakob.
His name surfaced unbidden, followed immediately by the sting of disappointment. The one time he hadn’t saved her, nor had he been there when she woke.
Of course he hadn’t been. Why would he be? He’d already helped her enough, pointed her in the right direction, and kept her safe more than she’d managed on her own.
He didn’t owe her anything.
She told herself that over and over as the day passed. The woman, named Ingrid as she later learned, checked on her, brought food, and asked careful questions about pain and dizziness. A doctor stopped by, clucked over her injuries, and once again declared her lucky.
Everyone did. And why did Ingrid call him a healer?
She must have run out of her luck because Jakob never appeared.
By late afternoon, the ache beneath Mallory’s ribs had nothing to do with bruises. It was hollow and sharp, a sense of something missing that she couldn’t quite name. She found herself watching the door, listening for footsteps that never came.
Something had happened while she was unconscious. She felt it in her bones.
Night fell early in the mountains. Shadows crept across the room, and Ingrid lit a small lamp before she wished her good rest. Mallory lay awake long after and stared at the darkened window. She replayed the dream of flying in her mind until it no longer felt like one.
She woke the next time to sounds, but not a crackling fire, not quiet voices, but the low hum of heaters and distant footsteps.
Mallory sat up too fast and immediately regretted it. Her head swam as she tried to look around.
The room was wrong. Too clean. Too modern. Beige walls. A familiar abstract print she’d walked past a dozen times already this week.
Her resort room.
She stared at it as her pulse pounded. Her boots sat neatly by the door. Her jacket was draped over the chair like she’d placed it there herself. Her phone rested on the nightstand, plugged in and charging.
“How did I get here?”
The last thing she remembered was snow and blood and Ingrid.
Not this.
Not warm carpet under her bare feet when she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Not the faint scent of hotel detergent. Not the digital clock glowing 9:15 p.m.
There was no memory of leaving the hospital or whatever it had been. No memory of a ride or even of flying again. And no memory of saying thank you or goodbye to Ingrid or the doctor.
A chill slid down her spine that had nothing to do with temperature. She barely had time to process it before the door flew open.
“Mallory!”
Brooke crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed her shoulders, eyes bright with relief and furious all at once. “Where the hell have you been?”
Violet followed close behind with her arms folded tight across her chest. Her face was pale beneath her freckles and her jaw clenched hard. “Do you have any idea how scared we were?”
“I…I don’t,” Mallory said honestly. “I mean, I do, but,” She faltered and her words tangled. “I don’t remember getting back here.”
Brooke stared at her like she’d just spoken another language. “You don’t remember what?”
“Any of it,” Mallory said. “I went for a quick hike, and this cat, like a panther, attacked. I fell and hit my head. I woke up here after being in the hospital.” It sounded like a poorly written story even to herself.
Silence dropped heavily between them.
Violet let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Wow. That’s convenient.”
Mallory flinched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Violet said in a tight voice, “that this is the third time you’ve vanished without telling anyone where you’re going. And every time, Jakob is somehow involved.”
“What? I wasn’t even with Jakob.” At least not for the last couple of days.
Brooke finally released her and paced instead.
“You disappear on the mountain. Jakob’s the one who ‘helped’ you.
Then you vanish overnight and turn up back here thanks to Jakob.
Then you go and disappear with no explanation for days.
” She stopped and looked straight at Mallory.
“Days, Mal. Are you that into him that you just leave us to worry?”
The question hit harder than any accusation.
“No,” Mallory said too quickly. Then, softer, “I don’t even know him.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re hiding him from us?” Violet demanded. “Why does it feel like you’re choosing whatever this is over us?”
Mallory’s chest tightened. Fear flashed through her, not of them, but of how little she could defend herself when she didn’t understand the truth either.
“I’m not hiding anything,” she said. “I swear. If I knew what happened, I’d tell you.”
Brooke’s expression cracked, anger giving way to something raw and scared. “We thought you were dead. We actually filed a report this time. We figured if you were holed up at the castle for a little love fest, you’d be easy enough to find.”
“I wasn’t at the castle.”
Brooke stopped at the door. “Well, we fly home in the morning. If you’re not here when we leave, we’ll assume you’ll find your own way home. Otherwise, we’ll all go to the airport together.”
Mallory groaned. She had lost track of time so severely that she hadn’t even realized their time was up. She had hoped to see Jakob one last time, but that didn’t seem probable. She had successfully accomplished nothing. “I’ll be here. I’m not leaving this room until you come and get me.”
“I need to go call off the search party.” Brooke opened the door. “I really hope you’re here in the morning.”
“We actually hope that you get a fine for getting the law involved,” Violet added. “And if you don’t want to tell us, that just adds to the kick in the gut.”
The words landed heavy.
Mallory’s throat burned. “I’m sorry.”
None of them spoke before they stormed out of her room. The air hummed with things left unsaid and the worry that still vibrated beneath the surface.
Then her phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Mallory jumped at the sound and her heart leapt into her throat. She fumbled for it and winced as pain flared.
She froze when she saw the text. Unknown number.
Her pulse quickened as she opened the message.
Heard you’re looking for Meg.
I know where she is.
Be ready.
The room seemed to tilt.
Mallory sucked in a breath and her fingers tightened around the phone until it creaked. Her mind came up with a dozen things that she could possibly need to be ready for, but none of them were good. She was leaving.
Her reply hovered on the screen. Who is this?
A moment later, a screen full of laughing emojis appeared. She didn’t bother any further attempts to get more information. Their message was clear.
The dream of wings slipped away and dissolved under the weight of reality.
Whatever had saved her on that mountain and whatever it was that she felt, no longer mattered.
Something far more real had just stepped into her life.
She hadn’t found a clue about her sister the entire time she’d been in Onyxheim, and now on her last night, someone finally contacted her.
She wanted to ask if she should stay, but her logic told her that she wouldn’t be answered.
She needed to get home and couldn’t afford to stay.
And there was no way she was going to ask Jakob to save her from this.