"Drink."
I do. Heat unfurls in my chest, spreads to my fingertips. My lungs finally stop feeling like they’re scraped raw. My eyes sting and I blame the smoke inhalation, because any other explanation feels dangerous.
"Thane," I say again, just to feel his name on my tongue. "What are you?"
He considers. The storm rattles the windows. The fire pops. He kneels, bringing us eye-level. His gaze sweeps my face, catches on my mouth, returns to my eyes like he’s searching for something.
"I’m not human. But I won't hurt you,” he says. “I promise.”
“I believe you,” I whisper.
He looks at my scorched sleeve, then at the tremor still running through my hands. Something in his expression shifts—tightens, darkens, goes intent.
"Until the storm ends," he says, "you stay here."
I lick my lips. "And after?"
His jaw flexes. For one breath, the world narrows to the space between us. "We'll see if you still want to."
I think I already do.
I must be losing my mind. Anot-humanmountain man has carried me to his home in the middle of nowhere, and I not only trust that he won’t hurt me, I’m thinking aboutstayinghere?
“My mom always said my imagination would get me into trouble,” I mutter.
“Hmm?” he asks.
My cheeks grow hot. “Nothing.”
Just that I’ve been dreaming of paranormal heroes practically my whole life and have even made a career out of writing about them.And now one has come along… for real.
Chapter 2
Thane
Humansdon'tlastlongin storms like this.
I've seen what the mountain does to them in this weather. Their skin goes gray, eyes glassy, as their breath freezes in their throats. When I kicked in that cabin door, I expected to find a corpse or a fool too far gone to save.
What I found was a woman fiercer than a fire.
She should have screamed. Run. Most humans do when they see tusks and green skin. But she looked straight at me. Met my eyes. Didn't flinch.
The fierce look on her face hasn't left my head.
Now she sits by my hearth, small and soft, wrapped in one of my furs, sipping tea I made with hands that could easily snap her bones.Not that I could ever hurt her.The steam curls around her face. I should be checking traps, watching the treeline, doinganythingexcept standing here like a fool.
But the bond hums beneath my skin.Thurok'hai.
I knew the moment I saw her. The mountain whispered her name before she spoke it.
Lila.
She belongs here. I feel it in marrow and blood.
The problem is, she doesn't know it yet.
"Does it always snow like this?" Her voice is still rough from smoke, and something in my chest tightens at the sound.
