Page 8 of Forced Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #3)

My relief at finding Winnie alive is quickly replaced by dread. She’s so still and cold, I can barely feel her heartbeat, even after I warm her up a bit. I’m encouraged that she has enough energy left to argue with me, but the reality is, she’ll die if I don’t get her to shelter— now .

Hugging her against my chest, I look down into her face. She’s so coated with snow and ice, there isn’t a hint of color on her. Even her vibrant red hair is fully covered. Her eyelids flicker, and her head falls against my shoulder as the last of her energy leaves her.

I hurry out of the shelter of the trees and trudge through the snow, heading downhill.

It would be a difficult trip for me even if I didn’t have to carry her, and I definitely need my wolf to do it safely.

More than once, my feet slip out from under me, and I almost drop Winnie, but I refuse to let go of her.

As I reach the bottom of the mountain, the trees finally shield us from the worst of the wind.

There isn’t as much snow on the ground, and I can jog through the forest. Winnie stays collapsed against my chest, her head rocking back and forth in time with my steps.

I can’t feel her breathing, and a new wave of fear rushes through me.

What if she’s already dead?

I stop so suddenly, I almost fall, pressing my cheek to her face. I can feel the lightest touch of her breath on my cheek, but I know she doesn’t have long.

What will I do? Take her frozen body back to her family, or just run? I wouldn’t want to leave my brothers, but if all I bring back is the dead body of Winnie Ramses, they’ll execute us all.

I don’t know Galen or his friend Kit, but I’ve heard of them, and I wouldn’t want to face either of them in a fight. I always knew I needed the support of other packs in the Range to hold my position, but for the first time, I’m realizing how complicated that could really be.

Worry about surviving first, then consider all the other creative ways you could die.

The deeper we get into the trees, the less snow falls through the canopy. Soon, I can run across the dirt without wading through snow drifts, and I’m covering a lot of ground.

But am I going in the right direction?

I stop again, wondering if it might be better to wait here and try to warm Winnie up. It’s too damp and cold to start a fire, even if I could get a spark, but I can’t keep running through the forest indefinitely.

I’m almost exhausted now—and hungry. I can probably go on with a short rest, but she can’t.

Then, through the sounds of the raging storm above, I detect a faint, trickling gurgle, and it isn’t far away. Keeping my head tilted towards the sound, I follow it with slow, careful steps until I come to the edge of a tiny creek.

This has to be the creek in the map!

I know I’m pinning my hopes on extremely long odds, but I follow the creek, keeping it on my right as I jog further into the woods. As the stream curves around a little bend, I see a huge gray rock on the slope on the other side with a streak of white quartz in it.

That’s the rock! It has to be!

When I finally see the dark shadow of the cabin ahead, I almost collapse with relief. I’ve dealt with exposure and pain my whole life, but this has definitely taken me to the limit.

I stumble up the steps and shove my shoulder into the door. For a moment, the lock holds. Then the wood splinters and the door smashes open, almost making me drop Winnie.

I lay her down in front of the fireplace and grab every blanket I can find, wrapping them around her. The dead weight of her limbs and lack of response scare me, but I focus on what I need to do to keep her warm and refuse to think further ahead.

She’s still alive. That’s all that matters. Get a fire going, then worry about everything else.

The fireplace has plenty of small wood and logs stacked next to it, and it’s easy to get a fire started. Within a few minutes, the small cabin is warm and cozy. My hands and feet start to tingle so badly that I collapse on the floor beside Winnie.

Well, shit. I actually forgot about myself for a minute there.

I rub my toes, stretching my legs out to help with circulation. While my own strength slowly returns, I keep my eyes on Winnie’s face, watching color come back into her cheeks as her breathing becomes deep and even.

As relief begins to trickle through me, I realize how much time has passed. Suddenly, I’m aware of time working against me again. And this time, it’s not the race for Winnie’s life.

Okay, tough guy. You saved her. Now you’ve got to get her back to town before the next sunset, or it’s all been for nothing.

I look down at her, struggling with my emotions. If I want to be absolutely sure I’ll make the deadline, we should leave right now. I also know that I just can’t do it.

I didn’t work this hard to save her just to take her back out there to die.

Sighing, I get up slowly and hobble into the kitchen. There’s plenty of tea, coffee, and soup—and to my surprise, a full bottle of aged, black-label brandy.

Cheers to the old man who built this place. You’ve got taste!

I twist off the top and take a sip, heading back to the fire. Winnie is still asleep, and I don’t want to wake her. I know I’ll have to take a closer look at her soon, to see how badly she’s hurt, but for now, she should rest.

The flickering light, the warmth of the fire, and the sweet brandy lull me into a languid state, and I prop my back against the couch so I can relax. All my troubles melt away, and the only thing that’s real to me is being here with her.

Imagine if there was no pack bullshit, like my past hadn’t even happened. That it was just us, and we lived here together… happy and free…

My mind slips away into idyllic, dreamlike scenes. I see Winnie baking a pie while I bring in firewood, and the two of us drawing water from the creek, and laying down together by the fire.

You’re losing it, Damon. Is this reality or the next big Disney script?

I groan softly, taking another huge gulp of brandy. It clears my thoughts a little, but I can’t stop staring at Winnie and having little fantasies of what our life together could look like.

She’s so beautiful, so sweet and innocent. She’s always lived a safe, comfortable life. It makes her precious. I have to protect her.

A sharp pain twists in my chest, and it’s got nothing to do with my physical state. I need a mate, that’s for certain, and finding one is a duty. But something is rising in me. From somewhere so deep in my soul, I never even knew it existed.

No. I always knew. I just can’t live with it.

Here in the dark, alone except for Winnie’s soft snoring, I can admit that I desperately crave the love of someone like her.

I’ve spent my whole life running, never being accepted, never safe.

Looking at Winnie is hard, and not just because she’s lived a life I can’t imagine or because this feels like much more than duty.

But if I have her, I will never survive losing her.

I jump a little, almost dropping the brandy. Shaking my head, I take another gulp and shove all the uncomfortably soft, fuzzy thoughts away.

I’m just tired. I almost died. My thoughts are a bit screwed up, but it’s okay. I’m not going soft.

When I look back at Winnie to reassure myself that I’m not ridiculously in love, I get another shock when I see her looking straight at me.

“You’re awake,” I say.

She nods. “Where are we?”

“I found the cabin.”

“Oh. So we aren’t home?”

“Not yet.”

She closes her eyes, turning away from me. I suddenly feel rejected, and it makes me angry.

I just saved your life!

“Here,” I say, holding out the bottle. “You should have some.”

“I hate straight alcohol. It will make me sick.”

“Just a sip, it’ll make you feel better. Then I’ll make some tea.”

Winnie sits up, letting the blankets fall off her shoulders as she reaches for the bottle. Her skin glows golden in the light of the fire, and I can’t help but admire her gorgeous curves as the shadows flicker across her body.

“Thanks,” she says, handing the bottle back. “I don’t think I can get up yet.”

“Don’t even try,” I caution. “I’ll make some tea, then we should check on your injuries.”

“Yeah,” she mutters.

I get up quickly and set up the kettle, trying not to think about going over her body with slow, careful attention.

To look for injuries, right?

Yeah. And kiss them all better.

By the time I come back with the tea, Winnie is curled up with the blankets wrapped around her again. She looks up at me with wide eyes, and I can smell her fear.

Sighing, I put the cup down close to her, as well as a packet of biscuits. Then I back away and sit down on the couch, wrapping a blanket around myself.

Winnie stares at me for a few seconds, then eventually reaches for the tea. She takes tiny sips and little nibbles of the sweet biscuits.

“How are your fingers and toes?” I ask.

She jumps a little. “Fine.”

“No frostbite?”

“Probably. But I’ll heal.”

“That’s my point. I really want to know how long we’re going to be stuck here.”

Winnie narrows her eyes, and I realize I might have offended her.

I’m not apologizing. Not unless she says thank you for saving my life.

“Yeah, I bet,” she mumbles. Taking another sip of tea, she turns to face the fire, leaning heavily against the couch cushions. I can see her trembling, and I know she’ll need to lie down again very soon.

She’s still very weak.

Frustration rises in me, the deep, driving need to do something, anything. I can feel the clock ticking against me, and I know we should brave the storm and get back so I can claim my place.

That’s the smartest thing to do. She’ll probably make it now.

My scowl deepens as I dwell on that word—probably.

One of the worst words in the entire English language.

There is still a considerable risk to Winnie if I leave now, and it shocks me to realize that I won’t accept it. Dragging her in half-alive wouldn’t break any rules, and she’d have plenty of time to recover once we get there, but I can’t stand the idea of causing her more pain.

Winnie carefully puts down her cup and sighs as she curls up on the floor again. The idea of disturbing her even slightly, let alone hauling her back out into the snow, is abhorrent to me.

I can feel my alpha position slipping away, and it hurts almost more than I can bear. But the possibility of Winnie getting hurt is even worse.