Chapter Eleven
Claray meets some beloved ghosts in the middle of a storm.
They moved on ahead, but then the worst happened. The wind picked up, and the snow fell faster and harder than before. Her horse knocked into the horse in front of her, the mount ridden by one of the guards, but his horse didn’t like it and tried to buck at Claray’s horse.
Her gentle mare spooked and took off like a shot in the wrong direction.
Claray screamed, pulling on the reins, doing her best to control the wild beast, but to no avail. The frightened animal ran faster and harder, bouncing Claray so hard she could barely hang on. “Dyna! Derric! Help me, please!”
Nothing. She heard no one, saw nothing but a white blanket of snow—heavy, thick flakes blocking her view of everything. The wind blew so hard it whistled through the pines, and she covered her face from the bitter cold. Yanking on the reins one more time, she prayed her horse would notice and stop.
She did. The mare stopped so fast she tossed Claray into a deep bank of snow, and by the time she stood up to grab onto her reins, she was nowhere to be seen.
“Help, Dyna!”
Panic threaded through her body, and she ran and ran, tripping and tumbling into snowbanks until she finally lay on one of them and sobbed, her tears freezing onto her cheeks.
She took shelter under a tree, which protected her view enough for her to look around.
She peered in every direction for any glimpse of Dyna, Derric, any of the guards, and any of their horses.
Nothing but a seemingly endless expanse of white and pine trees.
She took several deep breaths, collecting herself, then moved back into the snow and ran in the direction she thought she’d come from.
She knew, without a doubt, that her sister would be searching for her everywhere.
She had to run into her eventually. Vowing not to turn around, she continued along in the same direction, treading through deep snow.
It seemed hours passed without anything happening, though she guessed it was probably just minutes.
A sudden understanding hit her. She had to find a place to hide in until the storm was over.
Dyna would find her eventually, but in the meantime, she needed protection from the constant onslaught of wind and snow.
She shivered so badly that her steps slowed, each one more difficult.
You must go on. Think of Dyna, of Mama, of Thorn.
She continued until she could not move one more foot. Every movement she made became slow, arduous, nearly impossible. The snow continued to pelt her, as if laughing at her.
You should have stayed home.
Then she decided she would do no more crying. She huddled under a tree to gain her bearings for a bit, and as soon as the wind died again, she stepped out into the snow. There was something dark ahead, and she prayed it was a cave. If she could just get inside a cave…
What good would it do? She didn’t know how to start a fire with wet wood, and that was if she could find any wood at all. Her horse had taken off with her saddlebag. She had no extra plaid to sleep on, no soft fur to lay underneath her.
She was going to die.
Her mind roiled from the thought, but then a subtle sense of peace came over her. The shivering stopped, her fear ended, and her breathing slowed.
She took four more steps but had to stop because she’d lost the energy to pick up her feet. It was too difficult, too hard to move, too cold, too…
Out of nowhere, a horse appeared next to her. The snow swirled around it so fast she couldn’t even see if there was a rider on it. Was it hers?
No, it was much too large. This was a massive black warhorse who snorted at her as the rider came to a stop next to her, reaching down for her hand. She gave it to him, and the rider tossed her up in front of him as the horse moved on.
The man’s heat enveloped her, and she sighed with relief.
It had to be Thorn. “Thorn? ’Tis it not you?”
She turned around to look, but the snow was so heavy that she couldn’t make out the man’s features.
“Derric?” Nay, his hair was dark and it blew freely in the wind.
He was much too tall for her to make out any features.
Then she knew who it had to be.
“Papa? I’m so glad you came for me.”
She rested against his heat, cocooning herself in this man’s arms, his chest protecting her back.
Her father had always been her protector.
She’d never thought of him as a stepfather, even though she still felt all the pain of knowing her sire had been an awful man.
No stepfather could love her like Connor Grant did.
He led them straight to a cave, the one she’d seen up ahead, and to her surprise, there was already a fire lit in the entrance, positioned carefully so the wind wouldn’t blow it out.
The man dismounted and reached for her, lifting her down from the horse.
He tugged her hood down over her eyes and pointed toward the fire, ushering her inside with a hand at her back.
She rushed over to the fire and basked in its heat.
Unbuttoning her mantle, she stepped inside the protection of the cave and shook the snow from her clothing, watching it magically melt as it landed on the stone floor of the cave.
“I’m so grateful you came for me. I thought I was about to die.” She smiled with pleasure and looked around to thank her hero.
It was then she saw them, a woman near the back of the cave standing with a man who had his arm wrapped around her, both wearing soft smiles.
For a moment, she couldn’t believe her own eyes.
“Grandsire? Grandmama?”