The white wolf gained the upper hand, pinning Damon down. As fangs aimed for the vulnerable flesh of Damon’s throat, she squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to see that fatal blow.
The sounds of more growling made her snap them open. Damon evaded that mortal blow and grappled with the white wolf, scattering snow far enough that it reached her.
The cool flakes on her skin warned how close and imminent the danger was. She had to do something.
What could she do?
A yelp of pain turned her blood to ice. She forced herself to ignore it so she wouldn’t remain paralyzed. She scanned the terrain as they circled around her. There was nothing out here to help her. Nothing!
What could she use to help Damon?
Maybe she could run into the woods and search for a branch or a rock that she could use as a weapon. She snorted. What a feeble idea that was to stop a wolf.
Still, it was the only option she had. She ran toward the woods, but slipped and fell on her butt in the snow.
Ice. That crap had thwarted her since the first night that Damon had rescued her.
But it was hard. And sharp. And it might be a better option than a breakable branch.
She dragged her fingers through the snow where she’d fallen, reaching around the uniform sheet of ice. It would be impossible to break through without a shovel.
Nearby, she spotted some bits that sparkled like diamonds in the surrounding snow. She grasped a handful of packed, icy snow. After shaping it into a snowball, she stood and fixed her gaze on the fighting wolves.
More gashes of crimson blood streaked the snow. The gray wolf had a gash on his left side. She refused to stare at Damon’s wound as it might make her balk at her half-assed mission. She attempted to aim at the white wolf, but Damon was engaged with him. They bit and yipped at each other. She couldn’t get a clear shot.
She took off her glove, put her fingers into her mouth, and whistled—a wolf whistle. She groaned at even noticing that at such a time.
The wolves broke apart and turned to face the source of the noise. She hurled the icy snowball with all the strength she could muster at the white wolf’s head.
It hit the mark, smashing his face. The wolf recoiled and howled, but it wasn’t enough to knock it down.
Instead, the white wolf snarled at her and released a menacing growl that iced her veins. Bloody saliva dripped into the snow.
Damon’s blood…
Her heart thundered, ribs clenched her lungs. She swallowed. Mistake. Bad mistake.
The white wolf lunged for her and she stumbled backward through the snow. That mountain of fangs and fur blocked out the sky as it lunged at her. She shrieked and raised her arm to brace herself.
A painful howl followed. The expected blow didn’t come.
The gray wolf—Damon—knocked the white wolf into the snow. His fangs pierced the white wolf’s throat. It struggled and tried to escape the deathly grip, but Damon held on. More blood painted the snow. The white wolf’s limbs twitched spasmodically. A dozen more heartbeats ticked by before it stopped moving completely.
Damon released the body of the dead wolf and turned to face Sophie. The fur on his face was covered in bits of flesh and blood, which dripped from his fangs.
Bile rose in Sophie’s throat. She turned and vomited into the snow.
After she felt better, she lifted her head. Damon, in wolf form, had been watching her as if ensuring she was okay.
“Damon,” she cried. “Are you okay?”
The sound of his name coming out of her mouth as she addressed a wolf rang so peculiar in her ears. But it was Damon. She knew it was him. Although she might not understand it all yet, she understood both he and the wolf were the same.
He turned and stared at her. In the next second, his body vibrated, and he shifted to his bare human form. Would she ever get used to seeing that magical transformation? So much blood marred his beautiful skin. The gash was now visible on his side.
“Oh my God, Damon. You’re hurt!”
“I’ll heal soon.” His eyes raked over her. “What about you? Do you need medical help?”
She blinked, fascinated by him, and then took a quick look at herself. She might be a little sore and have a bruise or two, but nothing major. “No, I’m fine.” She gazed back at him with appreciation. He’d saved her life. “Thanks to you.”
He walked over to her and offered a hand, helping her up. “I should say the same to you with your quick thinking.”
“How so?” She stared at the dead wolf. “That might have been the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.”
“And bravest. It worked. You distracted him enough that I was finally able to get a good grip on his throat.”
She’d actually helped in a fight between two wolves? More surprising developments barreled into her strange new life. “I’m just relieved you’re okay.”
Damon bowed his head. “I was wrong to keep things from you. I’m sorry.”
She closed her eyes for a moment as she rushed through all that had happened. “I kind of understand why now. Well, not entirely.” She shrugged and then dropped her hands to her sides. “Maybe you can explain things more?”
He nodded. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”
She sighed and glanced back across the mountain to where she’d left Damon’s cabin earlier that night, thinking it was for good. Now she wanted nothing more than to return there with him.
“Can we go back to your cabin and sit for a long time? Maybe we can warm up with some hot chocolate and I can start to process everything. And then, you can tell me—well, everything?”
His expression turned solemn. He placed his hand on his bare chest and leaned forward. “Everything.”
Chapter 17
Damon
Damon was certain that he’d lost Sophie forever, but here she was back in his cabin,
