“They’re watching the house. They’ve probably been watching it since Alex disappeared. Waiting to see if he’d left anything behind. Now they know he did, and that you have it.” He picked up the metal box.“This is the trigger. The proof Alex had gathered. Land deeds, old letters. With this, the Holt legacy, what’s left of this town… it all crumbles.”
A heavy thud hit the side of the cabin, making them both jump. It was followed by another. Not the wind. Something solid.
Liam was on his feet in an instant, moving to the window and peering through a slit in the heavy curtains. His body went rigid.
“They’re here,” he said, his voice a low growl. He turned from the window, his expression grim. He grabbed a heavy rifle from a rack on the wall and checked the load.“There are at least two of them. They’re surrounding the cabin.”
Elara’s heart seized.“What do we do?”
“We can’t stay here. They’ll smoke us out or burn it down.” His eyes met hers, a fierce, protective light in them that had nothing to do with the family secret.“We have to run. Deeper into the mountains. I know a place.”
Another thud, louder this time, against the front door. The handle rattled.
Liam shoved the metal box into her bag and grabbed her arm.“Back door. Now. And stay close to me.”
He blew out the oil lamp, plunging the cabin into darkness save for the fire’s embers. As he unbolted the back door, a voice, distorted by the wind, called out from the front.
“We just want the box, Holt! Send the woman out, and you can walk away!”
Liam’s answer was to pull Elara out into the blizzard’s fury, into the teeth of the storm and the men who hunted them. The hilltop holiday was over. Now, it was a fight for survival, and the only thing she knew for certain was that her life was in the hands of a man whose family had built an empire on a lie, and who was now risking everything to keep her alive.
Chapter 6:
The Heart of the Storm
The world was a frozen, white hell. The wind screamed, tearing at their clothes and stealing the breath from their lungs. Snow drove horizontally, a solid wall that erased everything beyond ten feet. Liam moved like a ghost, his form a dark smudge ahead of her, his grip on her wrist an unbreakable tether.
“Stay in my footsteps!” he yelled over the gale, his voice ripped away by the wind.
Elara obeyed, her body screaming in protest. The cold was a physical assault, seeping through her coat, numbing her fingers and toes. The bag with the journal and the metal box felt like an anchor, a deadly weight trying to drag her down.
They crashed through skeletal undergrowth, the branches whipping at their faces. Liam never hesitated, his sense of direction an innate compass. He was leading them uphill, away from the cabin, away from the roads, into the wild, roadless heart of the mountain.
A gunshot cracked, muffled by the storm but unmistakable. It was followed by a shout, closer than she’d hoped.
“They’re following!” she gasped, her lungs burning.
“I know!” Liam pulled her behind the massive, snow-laden trunk of a fallen hemlock. He peered over the log, the rifle held ready.“They’ll have trackers. Maybe thermal. We can’t outrun them in this.”
“So what’s the plan?” Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably.
“The old mine shaft,” he said, his breath pluming in the air.“It’s not on any modern map. My grandfather showed me when I was a kid. It’s unstable, but it’s a place to hide, to get out of the storm.”
Another shot. This one splintered the wood above their heads.
Liam returned fire, a single, deafening shot aimed into the white void. The shouting stopped. For a moment, there was only the wind.
“Let’s go! Now!”
They broke from cover, running again, a desperate, staggering sprint. Elara’s legs were leaden, her vision blurring at the edges. Just as she thought she couldn’t take another step, Liam veered towards a rocky outcrop almost completely obscured by drifted snow. He brushed away a thick curtain of frozen ivy, revealing a black, gaping maw in the hillside.
“In here!”
He practically shoved her inside. The transition was instantaneous. The roar of the wind vanished, replaced by a profound, dripping silence and the smell of damp rock and ancient decay. It was pitch black.
Liam flicked on a heavy-duty flashlight, the beam cutting a swath through the darkness. They were in a narrow tunnel, the walls shored up with rotting timbers. The air was still and deathly cold.
“We can’t go far. The supports are shot,” he whispered, his voice echoing softly. He led her a dozen yards in, to a small chamber where the tunnel widened slightly.“This is it.”
