Chapter Fourteen
Dahlia
Idrift in and out of consciousness, pulled between waking and dreaming by the rhythmic sway of movement. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, wrapped in this cocoon of heat and fur, my body cradled against something impossibly warm.
The storm is gone. The wind still howls in the distance, but it no longer pursues us relentlessly. A sure and steady heartbeat pounds beneath my cheek, slow despite the perpetual movement and the strain of carrying me.
My fingers twitch, flexing instinctively, brushing against the thick fur wrapped around me.
It’s softer than I expected, smooth where it meets skin beneath the dense coat.
A fresh wave of heat unfurls in my chest, seeping down, warming places that shouldn’t need warming after nearly freezing to death.
I shouldn’t feel this safe. I shouldn’t feel this good. A low sound rumbles through the body beneath me—deep, resonant, male. My breath catches, eyes fluttering open as awareness crashes into me. The creature. The Migoi.
He saved me.
Panic should be pulsing through my veins.
I should be afraid. But instead, there’s only curiosity and a driving need to explore.
I slide my hands deeper into the thick fur, fingertips grazing against skin like heated velvet.
A shudder rolls through him, and I freeze.
His arms tighten around me, a silent response to my touch.
I should stop. I should do a lot of things. But I’m so tired of doing what I should, and the heat is intoxicating. Before I can overthink it, I press my face deeper into the warm fur, nuzzling against it, seeking more of the delicious warmth and that velvety skin.
Another rumble. This time, unmistakably pleased.
A rush of something wicked pulses through me, and my thighs press together instinctively. My cheeks burn at my body’s response, but I can’t help it.
I tell myself it’s just the aftereffects of nearly dying. That it’s just biology, seeking heat and comfort. Celebrating that I am indeed alive. I am not—cannot—be reacting to him like this. He’s a mythical creature, not a man.
And yet.
The steady flex of his muscles beneath me, the sheer power of him, the impossible contrast of brutal strength and the careful way he holds me—all of it coils together, winding tightly around something dark and unspoken inside me.
I shift, needing distance, but the movement only makes it worse. The friction of my thighs, the steady press of his body against mine, the way his breathing changes—deeper, heavier—as if he knows exactly what I’m feeling.
A new kind of panic grips me, one that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fact that I might be enjoying this too much. And maybe he is, too.
I don’t know how long we walk like this—minutes, hours—but eventually, the rhythm changes. His steps slow and his muscles shift with the change in incline. We’re going up.
I frown, trying to make sense of it. Shouldn’t we be descending toward Migdhari?
I take a breath to ask, to say something. But I don’t know what to say or if he can even understand me. In the quiet of my uncertainty, my mother’s voice drifts through my memory, Sometimes, the only way left to go is up, honey.
I bury my face deeper into the delicious warmth of his skin, and decide to give myself over to finally doing something I shouldn’t. My eyes drift close again as the final thought curls my lips into a crooked smile. Yeti or not, up we go.
Achill creeping over my skin wakes me some time later, the heat from being held so closely by the Migoi dissipating into the cool air. I blink against the dim light, my surroundings swimming into focus.
Gone is the raging storm, the endless white, and the relentless wind. In its place is something both impossibly different and completely unexpected—a vast cavern.
I sit up, fascinated by the change in scenery. The air here is thick, rich with minerals. Stalagmites rise like frozen sandcastles from the ground, while stalactites hang like jagged chandeliers overhead. Light refracts off the embedded crystals, casting a soft, shifting glow through the misty air.
A sound pulls my attention away from the beautiful view. Is that water? I get to my feet and walk over to find steam curling upward from a massive pool in the center of the cavern. It seems alive, a bioluminescent glow dancing across its surface.
When I dip a finger in, heat and light shimmer in its wake. Enchanted, I swirl my hand through the warm water, surprised by the faint glowing trail it leaves behind.
Where am I?
A shift in the background pulls my gaze upward, away from the magic of the living water, and has every muscle freezing into place. Adrenaline courses through my body, panicked sweat blooming in its wake.
A shape detaches from the shadows and coalesces into myth made flesh.
My pulse races, a fine tremor running through my locked muscles.
I should be afraid. I should turn and run.
But I already know who it is, and my damned innate curiosity is pulling me towards something that feels an awful lot like fate.
The Migoi.
Unsure what to do I give a little half-wave, then kick myself for making such a silly gesture at the legendary guardian of the mountains and forest. I flush as red as my hair, embarrassment heating my skin, the flush creeping up my neck erasing the chill from earlier.
He steps forward into the dim glow, and my breath leaves me entirely. Gone is the long, white fur that blanketed me against the cold. The great shaggy head that eclipsed my vision after the avalanche has been replaced, leaving in its place a figure that looks more man than beast.
My swallow is audible over the soft backdrop of the water.
He is as ruggedly handsome as the harsh terrain he calls home.
Still otherworldly, yes, but undeniably gorgeous.
His white hair is tousled, thick waves tumbling over his forehead and fading into the short fur that courses over his shoulders.
The luminescent silver eyes that have been haunting me stare back, glowing in the dim cave like moonlight over the snow-covered mountains, studying me just as intently as I am doing to him.
They are framed in a harsh yet beautiful face that is all angles—chiseled cheekbones, straight nose, and a sharp jawline.
The only softness is his full, lush lips. Pointed teeth peek past them, and gods help me, but all I can think about is running my tongue over each white tip, or better yet, having them run over me.
Tall, broad, and carved from shadow and ice, every inch of him is honed and hardened, power coiled into every line. My eyes trail over his broad shoulders that taper into a chiseled torso, down to the sharp ridges of his abdomen, the deep V of his hips, and…
My jaw falls open as I finish my survey. I don’t know what I expected him to be wearing. Fur pants? A strategically placed snowflake? But the fact that he is absolutely, gloriously naked is not exactly disappointing. My face burns as I realize I’m staring, but how can I not? He is magnificent.
He takes another step closer, moving cautiously as if I’m a scared rabbit, muscles rippling with every movement. I watch, mesmerized as he dips his large hand into the steaming water, the faint blue-green swirling around it. He pulls his hand out and smooths back his thick shock of white hair.
He turns his intense gaze back to me, the silver eyes unreadable. The same piercing stare I’ve been dreaming of.
Unconsciously, I have drifted closer to the magnificent creature, only realizing my hand is outstretched towards him when my fingers brush against the hot, velvety plane of his abdomen, mere fuzz where before there was fur.
Grazing my fingertips over the dip and swell of each muscle, the words slip out before I can stop them. “The abdominal snowman.”
A startled laugh bubbles out of me, half-delirious from exhaustion, half-horrified at what I just said. I snatch my hand back and drop my eyes, face once again burning, but before I can retreat, he swoops in and catches my chin between his calloused finger and thumb.
He tilts my face up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
His skin is warmer than even my embarrassment flushed skin.
Gently he turns my face from side to side, eyes tracing over every freckle as he regards me with inscrutable intensity, and maybe a faint touch of amusement, before gently brushing a thumb over my bottom lip.
His eyes darken as he follows the movement of his finger, reigniting the earlier desire that pooled in my belly.
He is looking at me like I am his next meal after all, and despite my brain screaming at me to run, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be devoured by him.
I had hoped I wasn’t going to be his snack, but now—
A sharp inhale escapes my lips at the thought, anticipation building as I wait to see my fate at the hands of this creature. At the soft sound, his eyes turn hungry. Feral. I should pull away. I should.
But I can’t. And not just that, but I don’t fucking want to.
My lips fall gently open in instinctual invitation, and I’m barely breathing as my body aches for something I don’t fully understand, something impossible.
Because for being lost somewhere in the Himalayan mountains, I have never felt more found.
“Where are we?” I whisper, my voice barely audible. But I think I’m asking myself so much more. I’m asking, Dahlia, what the hell are you doing? What are you thinking?
I don’t know if he’ll answer. I don’t know if he even can.
But I do know one thing. This Migoi rescued me.
He pulled me from death, shielded me from the cold, carried me into the safety of the depths of the earth itself.
And for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
I am not chasing down the next thing, looking for love, searching for answers. I have arrived. I am here.
“What is this place?” I try again.
He drops his hand and looks around the cave as if seeing it for the first time through my eyes.
I follow the path of his gaze, taking in the beautiful glowing pools, and, now that my eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting, the natural rock formations and what appear to be deeper caves judging by the way some areas fade to a deep, inky black.
The cave’s warmth should comfort me, but the heavy air reminds me of my fall—the suffocating snow, the weight of death closing in. I would have died out there. I know that. Everything feels so unreal.
I need some type of connection to reassure me I’m not dead after all so I reach up, daring to lay my hand on his arm. My voice shaky with nerves, I say, “You saved me.”
Not a question, but a statement of fact.
He shoots me a very human-like smile as we stand with the steam curling up from the pool and filling the air between us. I’m not sure which is more surreal—this hidden oasis in the midst of the mountain's snowstorm or this creature, smiling at me like I just hung the moon.
But I am sure that he saved me from an icy death, and now I owe him my life. A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold has me wrapping my arms around myself.
Concern flickers in his eyes as he reaches out and tugs me by the hand to follow him, engulfing my much smaller one in his grasp. His skin is thick and rough, calloused like leather in a sharp contrast to the other parts of him I’ve been privileged to touch.
We walk along a small path that leads up and around the pool, coming even with its surface. The trail narrows, but instead of dropping my hand, he switches his grip so that I’m trailing behind him.
I can’t help but run my eyes down the thick columns of muscle that frame his spine, following them down to where they meet a perfectly sculpted ass over thighs like tree trunks.
He is massive, maybe eight feet tall, judging against my height, but the large caverns may be making the proportions seem off.
Since he has yet to talk, I assume I can speak freely and say under my breath, “That ass though.”
I’m so busy enjoying the view that has no business being on a mythical creature, that when he abruptly stops I crash into his back.
With a startled yelp, I lose my balance and topple straight into the glowing water.
It rushes over my head, and as my heavy clothes and coat soak through, I’m pulled down deeper.
Panic claws at me, the feeling of being deprived of oxygen yet again clawing at my throat and impairing my ability to think.
I thrash blindly, lungs burning, eyes shut tight under the unfamiliar water.
I am so overwhelmed with the sensations and fear I can't even try to surface. I’ve been saved, only to die.
Once again strong arms wrap around me and pull me against hard and unyielding muscles. I feel my face break the surface and start choking and sputtering in my haste to take in a greedy breath.