Fine. Time for my power play.
"As you wish." I fold the contract back into my handbag, taking my time. "Just understand, when I walk out that door, you lose everything. Contract termination. No pay for the rest of the season." I pause, letting that land. "And I know you're already earning a fraction of what you used to make... Can you really afford to walk away from even that?"
Silas can't quite hide the way his expression flickers.
"That's right," I continue, pulling on my coat. "Oh, and the festival committee will come after you for damages, too. Hope whatever's so special about December twenty-third is worth torching your careers over."
I stride toward the door, floorboards creaking under my boots. My hand closes around the cold metal handle.
Come on, take the bait.
I pull the door open—
And the world turns white.
Snow and wind blast through the doorway, instantly soaking the front mat and stinging my cheeks like needles. I stagger back a step, shielding my face with my arm.
My phone starts shrieking in my pocket.
EMERGENCY ALERT:Severe blizzard conditions in the Lakeview area. Zero visibility. All roads closed. Seek shelter immediately. Do not attempt travel under any circumstances.
What the hell?
Chapter six
Naomi
The room tilts.
I reach blindly for the back of the couch and grab it. My lungs forget how to work for a second. Air comes in fast and shallow, never quite making it all the way down.
Too hot.
The fireplace. Three large alphas in the room. The knowledge that outside is just… white. No road. No way out.
“Sit,” someone says, Felix, I think, but my knees are already giving up. I land on the edge of the couch harder than I mean to.
Phone. I need my phone.
I fumble for it in my pocket and yank it out.
Screen. Call button. Numbers. I know how to do this. I’ve done this a thousand times.
My vision won’t stay still long enough to hit the right icons. I blink hard, force my hand to slow down, and finally manage to dial.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
The voice is female. Calm.
“I’m—” The words tangle in my throat, then tumble out too fast. “I’m trapped in a blizzard. I’m at a private residence on Canyon Road and I can’t get out, I need someone to—”
“Okay,” she says immediately, gentle but firm. “You’re doing the right thing by calling. I need you to take a slow breath for me so I can understand you, okay?”
Slow breath. Right.
I drag one in. It scrapes over something tight in my chest, stops halfway. Not enough.
“Are you injured?” she asks.
