He kicked harder. She tried to help, twisting and fighting, and he shook her hard. She went limp, trusting him.
Good.
He found another rock and used it. His feet slipped. He kicked anyway, muscles tearing as he shoved them sideways. The river fought him, then let go.
They hit the shoreline hard. Stone tore at skin. They rolled once, twice, and then the water was behind them, still reaching, still loud.
He let her go and shifted back, hands digging into frozen ground as his body reset. She shifted too. His heartbeat wouldn’t slow. It burned. His arms shook. The river kept roaring like it hadn’t noticed they were gone.
“Where are you hurt?” The words came out of him loud and fast.
Mist wrapped around them, wet and freezing. It coated his skin. Every breath hurt. His body ached everywhere with stinging cuts and already tightening bruises, but he didn’t check any of it. He didn’t care.
She was all that mattered.
“I’m not sure,” Nadia coughed out.
He ran his hands over her nude body with numb fingers. She was cold. Not just chilled. Freezing in a way that scared him. Her skin felt waxy and frozen. She shuddered violently, her teeth rattling hard enough he could hear the clatter. He found two cuts on her right hip, and he leaned closer, squinting in the dim light reflecting off the snow and water.
The wounds were bleeding steadily but not pouring out dangerous amounts. Not yet, anyway.
“These need stitches,” he said.
She nodded, her head barely moving. “I might be able to heal them,” she gasped. Her lips were blue, and her breath hitched between shallow pulls of air.
“We need shelter.” He ducked and lifted her, forcing his legs to work through the weakness shaking them. They were definitely out of Slate Pack territory now, edging into human land, but still deep in nowhere.
They might be closer to Copper Pack territory.
There were no lights, no roads, no animals. He could only see snow, trees, and that damn river.
The female felt light in his arms. Very.
She curled against him immediately, shivering violently. He pulled her tighter to his chest, trying to share heat, but the wind stole all warmth. The chill cut through him and pummeled straight to his bones. He turned left, then right, searching, his bare feet numb in the thick snow. The powder reached almost to his waist, but he plodded on, trying to go faster.
“Where are we?” Her voice shook so badly he almost missed the words.
“In a safe area.” He hunched over her, trying to shield her body with his own. “Between Copper territory and Slate territory.” He angled toward the river. “I’ve scouted this area before. There’s a summer camp further down.”
He had hunted someone there once. Someone who deserved it.
The wind fought him as he ran for miles on bare feet with the ice slicing into his skin. Cuts along his hips and across his chest burned, then slowly started to close as he moved. He glanced down at her again. Blood still seeped from her hip, dark against her pale skin. “Can you heal that?”
“I’m trying,” she whispered, her long hair iced over.
She needed heat before anything else.
They broke into the summer camp at last. Snow coated the cabins, which sat in a small circle, their roofs sagging under the weight. The main lodge loomed behind them, dark and empty. He kicked open the nearest cabin door and slammed it shut behind him, sealing out the wind.
Inside was freezing. Still better than outside.
A fireplace crouched in the corner next to a small kitchenette. A large bed with a stripped mattress that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years had been pushed against the far wall.
He crossed the room and laid her down gently, forcing his hands to stay steady. He turned to the fireplace and his stomach sank. There wasn’t any wood near the hollow hearth. “Hold on. I’ll be back in a second.”
The cold hit him like a slap when he stepped outside. His skin prickled instantly. It would be easier to move in the storm as a wolf, but he needed to swing an ax. He ran to the tool shed by the main lodge and kicked the door open. The padlock exploded, and a shard of metal sliced into his chin. Warm blood ran down his neck.
Inside, he found gardening supplies, an ax, and a scattering of tools. He grabbed the ax and went back out, scanning through the snow for a downed tree. It took longer than it should have. His hands shook. His breath burned. When he finally found a stag, he chopped it into usable pieces and hauled them back, dumping them beside the fireplace in the cabin.
