The snow comes harder. Thick flakes sting my cheeks. My tracks from the fall are already blurred by new snow. The world is nothing but white snow, fierce wind, and the creak of tree branches heavy with snow.
This is not good… not good at all.
Panic claws at my insides, but I push it away. I lock onto basics.
One step. Test. Plant your foot. Next step.
Inhale. Exhale. Count to ten. Start over.
I hear a new sound over the screaming wind, and I freeze, standing still to listen.Is someone… talking?
“Hold on.”
Those were definitely words. For a second I think I imagined it. Storms play tricks. Maybe it was only the wind. But IknowI could have sworn I heard someone say, “Hold on.”
Then I see him.
A shape in the white. Too big for a human. Moving toward me with ground-eating strides.
My hand goes to my sidearm. Fingers clumsy. Muscle memory does the work. I get it free, point at the shadow.
"Stop!" The wind shreds my voice.
He keeps coming.
Dark hair heavy with ice. Broad shoulders under a long cloak. Towering. As he gets closer, details sharpen. His skin is deep olive-gray—not a sickly, unpleasant color, justwrongin a way my brain can't process right now. Hard jaw. Stern mouth. Two short tusks curve up from his lower lip, pale against darker skin.
His eyes catch what little light there is and hold it. Molten gold.
Every instinct screamsStranger Danger."Stay back. I'm armed."
His gaze drops to the gun, then returns to my face. Calm. Assessing. No fear. No mockery. Just steady focus. “You’re hurt,” he says.
Up close he'smassive. The top of my head would barely reach his chest. His cloak strains over ropes of muscle. He could snap me in half by accident. But he doesn’t seem threatening, so I lower the weapon.
My ankle wobbles. I lock my knees. “I’m okay.”
"Your hands shake," he says. His voice is deep and rough.
"I'm fine,” I tell him again. “Turn around. This area isn't safe in a storm."
Something flickers in his eyes. "You’re injured and alone on the mountain. In this weather." His tone is careful. "And you tellmeit's not safe?"
"I'm a ranger. I know what I'm doing."
A gust of wind slams into me and I stagger, my ankle shrieking.
He moves.
A huge hand closes around my upper arm. Not hard. Not hurting. Justthere. Steady. Hot. Solid.
Heat jolts through my jacket. But it's more than that. Something under my ribs flares, sudden and bright. A spark catching tinder.What the hell was that?
The noise of the storm drops away. All I hear is my heartbeat, too loud, and the low rumble of his breath.
"Let go," I say. My voice comes out thin.
"No." Quiet. Sure. "You're freezing and hurt." His attention drops to my bad leg, the way I'm leaning away from it. "You won't make it back alone."
