The Blood Calling roars to life inside me, louder than it’s ever been. My mate is in danger. She’s alone, in a killing blizzard.
I plunge into the storm.
The cold doesn’t bother me. Krovenians run hot, our bodies designed for the harsh mountain winters that would kill a human in minutes. I run faster than I’ve ever before, my legs pumping as I follow the thread of her scent through the howling wind.
Why would she leave? What did “for the best” mean?
And why would she sign it with love and then walk into a death trap?
I findClaire a quarter mile from the castle, huddled against a stone wall that marks the edge of the road. She must have been trying to shelter from the wind, but it’s nowhere near enough.
My female shakes violently, her arms wrapped around herself, her lips blue, ice crystals glittering in her golden hair. She wears a coat, mittens and snow boots but it’s not enough, this type of frigid snowstorm could kill a human instantly. Her bag lies abandoned in the snow beside her, already half-buried.
“Claire!”
Her eyes flutter open. “No,” she whispers through chattering teeth. “You shouldn’t... go back...”
“Are you insane?” I’m already stripping off my coat, wrapping it around her trembling body. My warmth will help more than the extra fabric. “You could have died out here!”
“I was trying to get… bu…bus stop.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. “There is no bus service during a blizzard.” I scoop her into my arms. She’s small and so terrifyingly fragile. “Hold on to me.”
Her frozen fingers grip my shirt as I turn back toward the castle, her face pressing into my neck. Her breath is shallow and cold against my skin.
The terror of finding her body frozen in the snow makes my arms tighten around her until she lets out a small sound of protest. I force myself to ease my grip. Slightly. “Stay awake,” I command, moving as fast as I can back through the storm to the castle. “Claire. Stay with me.”
“I’m trying...”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes. Do you hear me? Keep talking.”
“‘bout what?”
“Anything. Tell me why you did this. Tell me what you were thinking, walking into a blizzard.”
She doesn’t answer. Her shivering is getting worse, her body trying desperately to generate heat it doesn’t have.
“Claire.”
“Trying... to save you...”
I don’t understand. But I file it away for later, when she’s warm and safe and I can demand a proper explanation.
I enterthrough the front doors of the silent castle and carry her upstairs to my chambers. Then I carefully set her on the thick rug in front of my fireplace, which is still burning from earlier. The flames cast warm light across her pale face and blue-tingedlips. I grab every blanket available and wrap them around her, tucking them tight.
She’s still shaking.
“You need to get out of those wet clothes,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen, some alertness returning.
“I’ll turn around,” I add quickly. “But you need to get warm or you’ll get hypothermia. Do you understand?”
She nods weakly.
I turn my back, staring at the wall, listening to the rustle of fabric as she peels off her coat, mittens, boots and soaked uniform. The sounds are torturous, the wet slap of cloth hitting the floor, the chattering of her teeth, her quick shallow breaths.
I go to my own closet and remove my own wet boots and replace any of my wet clothes for something dry. Then I grab one of my own button-down shirts from the closet. The white shirt is soft and will hang past her knees. I return and hold it behind me without looking. “Put this on.”
