Without warning, something bumped against her legs.
Adrenaline gave her sudden, desperate strength. What was that, a shark? A part of the boat? There was nothing else out here. She tried to kick herself away from it, only to be bumped again.
She was too exhausted to struggle much. In fact, her attempt to get away from whatever it was had taken her last energy. She began to sink.
But she didn't.
Whatever was bumping her from underneath pushed her up. Her head broke the surface, and she gasped for air.
What's happening?she thought dazedly.
She began to swim again, clumsily and weakly. Her fading strength was bolstered by whatever was pushing her along with gentle bumps from below. Occasionally she caught flashes, as it briefly surfaced and then went under again, of a huge black-and-white patterned shape.
That can't be a killer whale ... can it?
She was too dazed and exhausted to make sense out of it. All she knew was that without whatever mysterious, inexplicable helper was holding her up, she would already have drowned. Even if the life vest kept her from going under completely, she couldn't have kept her head out of the water.
But it kept lifting her up so she could breathe, and abruptly she found that she was no longer floating.
What ... a rock ...?
She had been pushed out onto something slick, cold, and hard. Her hands were so numb that she couldn't grip anything, but she scrabbled forward anyway, struggling for traction. Waves washed over her, trying to pull her back into the sea, but now her survival instincts had kicked in and she clung tenaciously.
Then there were hands on her, helping her. Gasping, she grasped the mysterious hands and let them pull her forward. She was being supported and held up by someone tall. Her fingers slipped on water-slick skin.
Tall and ... naked?
Stunned, she gazed up into a concerned male face and a pair of green-brown eyes.
He was asking her a question, probably something about whether she was okay or what she was doing here, but the words faded to a mumble as her last dregs of strength finally gave out. The world turned dark red and then black, and she fainted in his arms.
DANE
Dane found himself holding an unconscious,sodden woman wearing a life jacket, and he was intensely, powerfully aware that she was his mate.
His mate!
It was too much to take in all at once, especially in their current circumstances. He patted her face desperately, trying to get her to wake up, but she only gave a faint moan and turned her face against his bare chest before sinking deeper into unconsciousness.
At least she had stayed awake long enough to pull herself out of the water. He had worried about that; he could hold her up in the water as an orca, and on land as a man, but there was that intermediate transitional period when he had to shift and climb out. But she had managed to hold on as long as she needed to.
Now, the precariousness of his situation began to sink in. He was naked on a rock by the sea, with his arms around a woman who was clearly exhausted and hypothermic, and possibly hurt in other ways. The fury of the storm lashed at him, the cold wind and salt spray threatening to leech the heat from his body.
So much for not waiting out the storm in the cabin. Right now, both of them needed to be there.
Dane hoisted the woman into his arms and began to carry her up the path to the cabin.
On a warm, sunny day, it was a beautiful walk. In the near darkness, with a storm raging around him, it was a gauntlet. Branches tore off the trees and crashed down around him. Rain sluiced over him as if someone was dumping buckets of ice water on his head. Even his keen shifter vision could barely penetrate the gloom, and his bare feet were soon sliced on rocks and fallen branches.
He stumbled and kept going, limping more heavily, cradling the woman against his shoulder. He could barely feel her breathing.
At last the cabin loomed out of the dimness. It was dark and cold, but it was still standing firmly against the fury of the storm. A pine had crashed down mere feet from the door, missing the roof and the porch. Dane stepped over it. He felt under the door jamb for the key, unlocked it, and stepped into the dark interior.
When he shut the door and threw the heavy bar to keep it from blowing open, he felt a little safer. The walls creaked in the wind, but he knew they could withstand it, and the fallen pine in front of the door was the one he had been most worried about. If the cabin had stood up to the storm so far, he was confident it would keep standing.
He laid the woman gently on the floor just inside the door. He needed to get her warmed up, but first he needed a fire; it would be no help to either of them if he ended up hypothermic as well. Fortunately, his good survival habits came in handy here. He had left paper and kindling inside the stove, a pile of firewood beside it, and a box of matches ready for use. Dane struck one and set fire to the paper, and soon there was a warm flame leaping inside the stove's firebox, casting glittering gold sparks around the room.
Dane lit a candle and set it on the table to give him some light. Then he knelt beside the woman and began taking off her outer clothes.
