Page 12 of A Secret Crush Valentine’s (Holiday Shifters of Frost Mountain #9)

A Frosty Trip

“Are we there yet?” Julia asked for the fifth time.

“No.”

“Oh, my God,” she whimpered. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

She gave a shiver that Damon suspected had nothing to do with the cold. Even without looking at her, he could sense that she was holding her breath. For the last minute, she’d had her eyes squeezed shut and a tight grip on his hand like she was trying to crush his fingers.

Or maybe it was her way of holding him to his promise, making sure he didn’t let go of her, making sure he took her all the way to the other shore. Damon glanced at her and felt a twinge of guilt in his chest. A part of him wanted to turn them around and take the longer route instead, but they really didn’t have much of a choice, not with the Collectors after them.

By now, those men must have gotten up and resumed their chase. Damon wondered how long they’d been after him and how many of them there were. He’d fought off five men, but for all he knew, there could be dozens of them.

He gritted his teeth, taking another careful step forward. The ice beneath his feet didn’t crack, not even a little, but the surface was still quite slippery. The only advantage that offered them was that if the Collectors tried to follow them, they’d be forced to move carefully. Damon knew the ice would support his weight and Julia’s, but if they slipped and fell, that was another problem entirely. The force of their combined weight hitting the ice just might crack it, and who knew what might happen after that?

Whatever did happen, he thought, they were together this time. That was consolation enough for him.

“It does feel like walking on water,” Julia said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “It’s like Peter from the Bible.”

Damon tried to remember. Then he grinned. “Well, in that case, don’t be afraid.”

He might as well have asked a snow leopard not to have spots. He could practically feel the fear emanating from her body. He gazed ahead. They were getting closer to the other shore. Only about 70y feet to go.

“Please tell me nothing is lurking under the ice,” she muttered.

Sixty feet to go. “No,” said Damon.

But even he doubted that. You never really knew with Frost Mountain. This place was brimming with an infinite number of unknowns. There were creatures on the mountain he’d neither seen nor heard about, creatures that were supposed to be extinct, creatures that should be purely mythical. What were the odds that one of them was hiding under the ice?

He pocketed the thought in a corner of his mind where it couldn’t bother him and kept walking, his hand in Julia’s.

Forty feet.

All of a sudden, she froze in her tracks. Her eyes snapped open wide, and she stared at him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Her breathing was growing more ragged by the second. “The ice. It…” She lowered her gaze to the ice. It was still completely solid, not a single crack in sight. “Oh.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he assured her as they continued walking. “You’re fine. We’re almost there.”

Thirty feet left.

He glanced around them. There was no hint of anyone following them. The only signs of life were the trees in the distance. That was good. It meant the Collectors were still far behind. Then again, he hadn’t noticed them earlier until he and Julia had been surrounded. He gave their surroundings another careful scan.

Twenty feet.

“We’re almost there.”

To his surprise, she doubled her pace, rushing for the shore. He moved after her, his hand still in hers. Seconds later, they reached the shore. She stood in the snow, panting, her eyes wide as though she couldn’t believe what they’d just done.

“We’re here,” Damon said, breaking the near silence. “I told you…”

Before he could finish his statement, she threw her arms around him, hugging him so tightly she almost broke a rib. He ran his fingers through her red hair and drew a shuddering breath. In a way, they had just accomplished something. A part of their past that had gone awry had been righted.

They’d crossed the lake. And they both were still alive—and dry.

When she lifted her head from his chest, he wanted to kiss her, to hell with the consequences. He smiled down at her, and perhaps he was simply giving in to delusion, but he could swear he saw her face inch closer to his. His lips parted, waiting for the kiss that was like a plate of food to a starving man.

But it never came. Because Julia wasn’t smiling at him. The look she gave him as she slowly pulled herself away from him was nothing less than scathing.

She was angry. But why? His mind backtracked rapidly. Of course. The Collectors. They’d been attacked, and he still hadn’t bothered to explain what was really going on. Damon swallowed. The longer he kept it from her, the worse things would turn out for him when she found out.

If she ever found out.

“Julia,” he started, “there’s something I want to tell you—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped, taking a step backward. “Just… leave me alone.”

And with that, she walked off toward the trees.

***

Damon wasn’t very good at following orders. For one thing, he hadn’t done as Grim Jim had ordered. If he had, Julia would be sitting in the Ice Melter’s cave along with his other living treasures. But here she was, storming off in the snow ahead of him and insisting that he leave her alone.

He had no intention of following that order. Not for anyone or anything.

I should have told her about the Collectors, he thought, giving himself a mental kick.

That was why she was so mad at him. This was on him.

He jogged after her. “Look, Julia. I’m really sorry. I should have told you—”

She ground to a halt so abruptly that he nearly ran into her. She fixed him with a fierce, blue-eyed glare. If looks could kill, he would be lying dead at the bottom of the nearest lake. Even that would be preferable to her frosty gaze.

For a moment, he simply stared back at her, unsure whether it would be wiser to keep talking or keep his mouth shut. A moment later, he chose the former. “I didn’t want to tell you—”

“You’re a jerk, Damon McLaurent, you know that?” she snapped. “A big, stupid, annoying jerk who can’t even—aargh!”

She threw her hands up in frustration and stared daggers at him for another moment, then turned and continued walking away.

Damon hurried after her again, but this time, he didn’t try to stop her. He walked ahead, leading the way through the woods, and was relieved when he glanced over his shoulder and realized that she was following him, keeping a few feet of distance between them.

At least she’s not going to run off on her own , he thought.

He took in their surroundings, preparing to double back at the slightest sign of movement. The Collectors were out there somewhere, he knew, perhaps waiting for the right moment to strike. But they would get near Julia over his dead body.

He’d just gotten her back. He couldn’t afford to lose her again.