She pushed herself forward, but staggered and fell hard to her knees. She tried to get to her feet, struggled with all her might, but she was too weak.
She couldn’t believe she was going to die this way, from sheer stupidity. She honestly hadn’t realized how much the temperature had dropped. She’d 57
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never thought for a moment that a quick look around for Piers could result in her death. The last thing she remembered was the white ground rushing toward her face.
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Chapter Ten
Sanctuary had been further away than Piers thought. He was close now, but an hour and a half had already passed since he’d left Sherry. If he kept going, he’d make it there within another hour, but then it would take at least that long to get back to her even by vehicle. There had been enough gas in the Jeep for at least two hours, but he wasn’t willing to gamble how long it would last after that. The cold would kill her fast, and he could keep her warm.
She’d be worried and scared that he hadn’t returned when he said he would. The storm had let up for awhile, but it wasn’t long before it had picked back up. He couldn’t risk her safety. He had to turn around and go back. He had to make sure she was safe and warm. If something happened to her—he closed his eyes and refused to go down that path. She’d be okay. But instincts urged him faster, and when he was almost back to the car, he saw a sight that made his heart stutter hard and threaten to stop altogether.
Lying on the ground only a couple hundred feet from the Jeep was what would have looked like an old blanket to anyone else. However, he could see stray strands of red hair blowing above the plaid pattern. Sherry. Fear engulfed him, and he ran to her. She was face down, and when he turned her over, he held his breath, praying that she was still alive. Her skin was pale, and her lips had a sickly, blue tinge to them.
“No! Sherry, wake up!” He picked her up and cradled her against him.
She was so cold. Her heart beat weak and faint, but it still beat. Her breathing was shallow and slow, but she was alive. Pressure built in his chest until he shook inside.
Why was she outside of the car? Had she been looking for him? This was his fault. He’d put his mate in danger and he’d never forgive himself for doing so. One thing he was determined of. He would not let her die. No force on heaven or earth or hell could take her from him now. He’d save her.
He carried her back to the Jeep, started it, put her on the back seat, stripped her clothes off, then took his off as well. He reached in and pulled the latch to unlock the back of the seat and folded it down.
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He climbed in, shut the door, lay down, pulled her against his chest, and spooned her. After pulling the blanket over them, he wrapped himself around her. His body nearly covered her entire tiny frame. She was so cold, so still. He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek on the silky, red locks.
“Please, Sherry. Take my heat. Get warm, baby.” He whispered the words, willing her to do as he said.
An hour later he had no choice but to turn the engine off to preserve what little fuel was left, and she started shaking. He held her tight against him while her teeth chattered and she clutched at him. He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her and coax the warmth back into her body.
“It’s okay. I’m here now. I’m so sorry I wasn’t back when I said I’d be.
Please wake up.” For the first time in more years than he could remember, he wanted to cry. He wanted to cry, scream, and beat on something until he was exhausted. How could he have let this happen to her?
“Piers?” His name whispered from her lips.
“Sherry?” He choked back a sob.
He leaned back, looked down at her, and framed her face with his hands.
She blinked her eyes several times before opening them. She smiled up at him, and a rush of relief swept through him like a tsunami. She still shivered, but it was slight compared to the earlier body-wracking shakes. She buried her face against his chest and wiggled closer to his warmth.
“You are so warm. I swear you are like a heater,” she said through clattering teeth.
“You scared the hell out of me. What were you doing outside of the car?”
“When you didn’t come back, I got worried. I didn’t mean to get so far away from the car. I-I didn’t realize I would get so cold so fast. It all happened so quickly. I didn’t understand what was happening until it was too late. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have been back when I said.”
“It’s not your fault, Piers. I made the choice to get out of the car.” She looked up at him, and placed a delicate palm against his cheek.
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“No. It’s my job to protect you, and you almost died because of me. I shouldn’t have left you.”
* * * *
Sherry couldn’t believe Piers was blaming himself for what had happened. It was no one’s fault but her own. She was an adult and had made a bad choice. She vaguely remembered bits and pieces of when he found her.
Although she’d been in and out—more in than
