Page 15 of A Secret Crush Valentine’s (Holiday Shifters of Frost Mountain #9)

Pillow Talks in a Cave

“You know, you blush when you come,” Damon was saying. “You get all red in the face. And your eyebrows scrunch up like you’re thinking really hard.”

“Are we pillow-talking right now?” Julia turned her head to look at him.

“Maybe. What’s wrong about that?”

“Well, for starters, we don’t have any pillows. And we’re inside a cave on a mountain that shouldn’t exist.”

He flashed her a sexy smirk that made her tingle. “We just made love in this cave.”

Her cheeks burned. “Touché.”

They had just made love in the cave—for the third time that night. Sweet exhaustion spread through her, and she doubted she could stay awake much longer. They’d learned about each other’s bodies more than once, and here she was, still blushing like a schoolgirl at the mention of their intimacy.

They lay clothed now, to her mild disappointment, cuddling before the flame. Damon had an arm wrapped around her, pulling her close so that her bottom was pressed against his groin. She could feel his erection still pulsating against her. How that was possible, she had no idea, but it excited her to see just how much he craved her.

It was a dream come true, all of this, well, sans the Ice Age setting. Tonight had been full of pleasant yet unimaginable surprises. Even now, she found herself wondering if she’d struck her head on a rock earlier and was having some kind of hallucination. But it was real, and she didn’t even need to pinch herself to know that. Pleasure was as real as pain.

She returned her gaze to the flames. She could feel Damon’s warm breath on the nape of her neck. His presence was soothing, his hold on her protective. He definitely was into her. But just how much? And did he have any idea how deeply she felt for him? Their lovemaking had spoken volumes, but they hadn’t actually had a proper discussion.

Yet.

Damon’s fingers caressed her belly through her clothes. “You know,” he said, “when all of this is over, I’d like us to have that dance finally. You know, in Caprichor, where it’s safe.”

A flutter filled her belly, but she wasn’t sure if it was from his words or his touch. “Our Valentine’s Day Dance? I… I’d like that.”

Suddenly, she felt like that girl 16 years ago, before the ice gave way under their feet. Before she could start worrying about things like what she was going to wear or whether Caprichor happened to have makeshift clubs with speakers from earth, another thought crept into her mind, piquing her curiosity before she could ignore it.

“Hey,” she said, “do you think those Collectors might have been after just one of us?”

Behind her, she felt him freeze at her question. A second later, he said, “They never mentioned. I think they were more eager to attack us.”

“Good thing you were prepared for them.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Frost Mountain prepares you for everything by throwing the impossible at you. Only the strongest or the smartest can thrive out here on their own, at least. That’s why some people choose to live in villages or towns.”

“You never did?”

“Not for more than a little while. I learned to keep moving if I wanted to survive. Staying in one place makes you complacent. Living in Caprichor, spending the next few years or maybe the rest of my life there is not something I’ve had to consider until now.”

He was survivor through and through. “You never did really explain why we have to go to Caprichor.”

“I did. It’s safe.”

“You said that.” She twisted around, breaking his hold on her and facing him, her eyes searching his face. “But you never told me what you’re running from—or who .”

“I thought we were pillow-talking,” he said, frowning.

She thought about that. Their conversation was slowly turning into sort of an interrogation, but her questions remained. Damon knew something he wasn’t telling. She knew that instinctively.

“We are talking,” she told him. “When you met me, you wanted to go to Caprichor. Why was that?”

“I…” He stared past her at the flames, and she could tell he was struggling. “I—”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.” She gave a disappointed sigh. “I guess whatever it is, it’s a touchy subject for you. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, Julia.” He sat up suddenly. “You deserve to know. Especially since it concerns you.”

She blinked up at him.

Wait… what?

“What do you mean by that?”

Guilt flickered in his eyes. “You should probably sit up for this.”

Her heart sank into her stomach as she obliged, not once taking her eyes off him. Damon continued to stare at the fire, shadows flickering across his face. Moments passed without a word. Julia was starting to wonder if he was trying to gather his words when he finally spoke.

“I’ve survived on Frost Mountain for 16 years,” he began. “I learned to survive over time. But when I first got here, I nearly died.”

She held her breath, feeling like she was on the edge of her seat.

He inhaled deeply. “The cold didn’t kill me. But I nearly starved to death. I wandered through the woods for weeks before anyone found me. They helped me, fed me, and took me to someone they knew could help me even more, a person who could make sure I learned to survive on Frost Mountain.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” But something about the way he said it made her suspect otherwise.

He met her gaze, and she found her suspicions confirmed in those green eyes.

“That person was Grim Jim,” he said.

Julia’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, waiting for him to burst into laughter or yell, “Gotcha!” or something. But Damon was dead serious. That made it even worse because if he was being honest, then he’d just told her that—

“Grim Jim was who helped you?” She remembered what she’d heard about the man. He was the leader of the Collectors, the dragon who collected treasures, including living beings. “I don’t understand.”

She had an idea where Damon’s confession was heading, but she held out hope that she was wrong, so she waited.

Suddenly, Damon looked like he’d aged 10 years. “He taught me to fight, to hunt. Half the things I know about staying alive on Frost Mountain, I owe to Grim Jim and his people. But there was a price.”

She gulped. “Wh-what price?”

He looked away from her. “He made me work for him. To help him… add to his treasures.”

That was all she needed to hear. With a gasp, she scrambled away from him, eyes wide.

“Red—”

“You’re a… a Collector,” she said, scrambling to her feet and giving him a wide berth. “You’re one of them.”

She didn’t want to believe it, but he’d just admitted it. It was all starting to make sense: the unanswered questions, his furtive behavior… and what about the day he’d found her? He’d swooped out of the sky as a dragon and roared at her like he’d been trying to make her his next meal.

The realization hit her all at once. He hadn’t been about to eat her; he’d been trying to capture her. And that was what those other Collectors had been hoping to do when they’d attacked. It wasn’t an object or revenge they were after; it was her.

“I can explain,” Damon said, getting up.

“Oh, you’d better.” She laughed bitterly. “This is why you wanted to take me to Caprichor. That’s where Grim Jim is, isn’t it? This whole time, you’ve been leading me like a lamb to slaughter.”

“Look, I—”

“I trusted you!” she shrieked. Her voice echoed through the cave, ringing in her ears. “I trusted you, Damon, and you… you lied to me. You made me think you cared about me, that you liked me, that you were going to take us to safety, but it was all a lie.”

“No, it wasn’t. You’ve got it wrong.”

She scoffed, her voice dangerously on the verge of tears. “Oh, have I?”

“Caprichor is safe,” Damon insisted. “I wasn’t taking us there to give you up. You’re right: I was supposed to capture you. I wanted to leave the Collectors. I hate everything they stand for. I was done. But Grim Jim wasn’t going to let me go that easily. He told me I had to do something for him if I wanted my freedom.

“He asked me to get the snow leopard shifter that had just arrived on Frost Mountain. I spent weeks searching until I found the shifter, and then it turned out to be you. I just… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take you to him, not when I’d just found you again. So I decided I’d take you to Caprichor and hide you from him for as long as I could.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Yes! I mean, I know you probably don’t trust me after—”

“Probably?” she snorted. “I thought you were a good person. I thought the accident that brought me to this mountain wasn’t such a terrible thing because I got to see you again. I guess I was wrong on both counts.”

With that, she turned and flounced toward the cave’s entrance.

“Julia, wait!”

She ignored him. Right now, she wanted to put as much distance between them as possible. Fearing he might chase her, she shifted, dropping on all fours as a snow leopard—Grim Jim’s prize—and sprinted out of the cave into the night, sending up flecks of snow in her wake. The wind rushed in her ears as she picked up speed, and she had no idea where she was headed, only that she needed to get as far away from Damon as she could.

He's a Collector.

The thought replayed itself in her mind as she ran. Over and over.

He’s one of them.

Shifting had been brilliant thinking. It was the quickest way to get away from him, although there was no telling how far she’d get before she had a dragon trailing her again.

At least in this form, I don’t have any tears.

Of course, she’d been wrong about him. Of course, he was a threat to her. She should never have thought otherwise. She’d seen the signs. This whole time, he’d been keeping things from her, acting suspiciously. She should have known the guy who almost led her to her death all those years ago would try to do the same thing again.

But he had protected her, hadn’t he? The thought struck her so suddenly that it nearly stopped her in her tracks. He’d fought off the other Collectors and tried to get away from them. Why would he do that if he was in cahoots with them? What if, by some impossible chance, he was telling the—?

She never got to finish that thought.

Swoop, swoop, swoop.

This time, she skidded to a halt so suddenly that she toppled over and rolled through the snow. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted several massive shapes hovering above her. Shapes with massive wings like tarpaulins… tails like whips…

As she tried to get up, a pillar of fire cut through the air, illuminating her surroundings, and she saw them clearly.

Dragons.

There had to be at least seven of them circling above. Julia considered trying to take off again before they hit the ground, but she was surrounded. A dozen or so men stood in a wide circle around her. She couldn’t imagine how they managed to sneak up on her, but they were all heavily armed. And Julia knew exactly who they were.

The Collectors raised their weapons as one, leveling them at her.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard a shout. The fur on Julia’s body stood to attention.

Damon?

A sudden movement caught her eye, and a voice said, “He can’t save you now. Not with so many of us. He will answer to the Ice Melter. And as for you, you’re his latest treasure…”

She spun just in time to see the man raise his foot. And then her world went dark.