She couldn’t stay.
But should she leave? With night falling, walking through deep snow in a winter storm surrounded by a forest with wolves might prove fatal. Real wolves wouldn’t care about the voice in her head.
Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.
Brenna turned to haul the emergency kit from the backseat. The red and black canvas material of the bag made it easy to spot, but not so easy to grab. Pain lanced across her body. Her sore chest complained, and her knees ached. The sudden movement made her vision swim, and the dull throb behind her eyes intensified.
Brenna reached to unclip her seatbelt. The button jammed.
“Crap!” She yanked on the buckle, but it remained cemented in. Argh! If only she had werewolf super strength.
Maisie huffed.
With gritted teeth, she turned and tried to grab the kit again. She stretched her arm out, fumbling with her fingers to grip the strap.
A little farther!
She needed that pack. With a sucked in breath, she pushed against the strap as it dug into the bruised flesh between her breasts and thrust her hand out. Pain streaked down her limbs and exploded in her back. She grabbed the strap and hauled the bag from the backseat. A deep sigh escaped her lungs. Success. She panted and waited for the pain to ebb.
With a blanket, her jacket, toque, and gloves, she’d survive the night and try her luck in the morning. With the Buchanan’s as the nearest cabin other than her parents’, she doubted a rescue would happen. Besides…
She’d rather the snow’s company than the Buchanan’s son.
Brenna unzipped the red and black bag to retrieve the large hunting knife. With a quick swipe of the sharp blade, she freed herself from the seatbelt.
Now what?
Brenna reached forward and pulled her keys from the ignition. She nestled into her jacket and hunkered down for a long, lonely and cold night. Maybe a patrol would brave the elements, and she’d be saved by the man of her dreams.
Brenna snorted.
That would never happen. She had the worst luck with men.
Chapter 2
Eric cursed his family and their not-so-subtle attempts to set him up. Again. Not only was Heather Dufaine a shallow airhead with the personality of puff cereal, but snowmobiling as a storm rolled in had to be the dumbest idea ever. He didn’t care if her father was the alpha of an allied pack, this match would never happen.
The rising sun cast the hills and valleys of snow in sporadic shadows. Night fell fast in the B.C. Rockies, but it left the same way. His paws sunk into the deep snow as he charged up another bank. He slowed as the wind blew another gust of snow across his path, and his visibility fell from ten percent to zero. With his dense winter coat and frost-bite resistant paws, he’d survive this outing, but if he didn’t run off some of this anger, no one else would when he returned to the crowded cabin.
Heather had insisted on going out last night, and his family encouraged him to indulge her. As if she were some petulant child threatening a tantrum. Heck, one look at her pouty face confirmed his guess wasn’t far off.
Why on earth his parents wanted her as a daughter-in-law had stumped him for all of two seconds. Her “daddy” and his father were judges and both alphas of their respective packs. Though they already had an alliance, the idea of a marriage between their two prominent families would unify the two packs and solidify their position as the area’s powerhouse.
It didn’t matter to anyone that they weren’t true mates. Those were so rare to find these days.
Luckily, he’d convinced Heather a half-hour into snowmobiling the conditions were too dangerous, and he’d returned her in one piece to his family’s cabin with the mistaken belief he cared for her.
He certainly didn’t wish her harm. It wasn’t her fault she’d been raised entitled and brainwashed into believing happiness only fit in a certain box.
Happiness.
What would he know about that?
The only time he found true happiness in the arms of a woman was a long time ago, and the moment fleeting at best. He’d had his true mate in his hands, but instead of welcoming the moment, instead of submitting to the call, he freaked out and hurt her irreparably. She rejected him for it.
That short moment in time and his split-second decision impacted the rest of his life. Sometimes he questioned whether it even happened.
Now, he found enjoyment in the wilderness, with the sharp scent of pine and the cold bite of the air. Eric tucked his head and charged over another ridge. The frozen air sliced over him, and he sped up the next bank.
