The wind cuts through my shirt as I lead Baron and Castor up the mountain. Baron sliced my jacket in two and the cabin didn’t have anything that wasn’t covered in blood, my fault I suppose. Thankfully, the cabin owner’s snow boots fit me well enough so I don’t have to trek through the mountains barefoot.

The bullet wound burns enough to distract from the biting cold, and I flex my muscles to relieve tight muscles in my thigh. Frigid shocks of pain shoot through my leg, mixing in with a gust of wind that pulls me back a few feet.

Focus.

I trek through the jagged rocks and snow, Baron and Castor close behind. They grumble from the harsh terrain, hushing themselves seconds later.

Memories of hiking trips with my dad creep into my mind—those trails weren’t so different from this. He always taught me to watch the landscape, learn it, and find the safest way through. Even well traveled paths had to be taken with caution. Every hike to Devil’s Paw, he would throw a new obstacle—blizzards, wildlife. He’d gotten us ‘lost’ plenty of times to make sure I could always find my way.

I glance back at the men as I pass through a steep shelf. They move swiftly along the mountainside. Castor crosses first, narrowly avoiding the shift in rock and snow. He sidesteps over the ledge, extending a hand to Baron, but he sprints up the slope, crossing in mere seconds.

My brows raise and I cross my arms. “You’ve done this before.”

Baron shoots me a glare before dusting the snow off his pants and shoving past me with Castor quietly on his heels.

I push on, but the silence is deafening.

“Are you always this quiet during a mission?” I ask.

“Yes.” Castor says without looking back.

“So where did you learn to hike?”

“Do I need to gag you?”

My eyes narrow, but I focus on my footing, scaling another small slope. “What happened to being nice?”

Castor turns over his shoulder, a cold look in his eyes. “I said you can tag along. I said nothing about being nice.”

I huff a laugh. “You’re nice enough when you’re trying to fuck me.”

“I think I might like seeing you gagged.”

My jaw clenches, and Baron laughs.

“At least she’d shut up for once.”

“How sweet,” I say with a mocking smile. “Do you normally fuck your captives, or am I just special?”

“Only the ones that keep running their mouths.” He glances back at me with that same dark smile as he looks me up and down. “Hard to talk back with a dick in your mouth.”

“Try it,” I snap. “See who wins.”

“My bet’s on the mountain,” Castor mumbles.

I groan in disgust, instead pushing in front of them.

Assholes. It’s no wonder they’d try to fuck me any chance they get. The only company they’ve ever had is their left hand.

Or each other…

I snicker at the thought. Between the two of them, it’s a shot in the dark who would call that shot first. Probably Baron. He’s obsessed with pain the same way Castor is obsessed with control. I wouldn’t put it past them to let off steam without Acacia around.

Might be worth putting that to the test later.

We move through the north Col slowly. They slide along the snow occasionally before Baron takes note of the way I dig my heels into the bank and follows suit with Castor. It’s the fastest way to the summit, but even with proper hiking equipment, it’s dangerous.

I stop when the Col corners off to a ridge covered in ice. It’s thin—barely enough to support the width of my foot—and next to that wall of the ridge is a steep drop off, plummeting down to the bottom of the mountain. I almost turn around. This is a horrible idea. The mountains I’d scaled at home were nothing like this, and without proper equipment to secure us to the rock, we won’t make it.

“Something wrong?” Castor asks abruptly.

I shudder when another gust of wind blows my scarf down. We don’t have any way to get to the other side of the mountain in time. Alastor would be long gone before any of us got to him.

I move along the ridge, keeping my hands planted along the wall. Castor follows behind me, with Baron covering the end. I hardly move. I don’t even lift my feet when I cross along the ice. Every small movement has my feet sliding along the thin layer of rock, and the pounding in my chest only worsens the tense grip I have on the wall.

I keep moving, using the cracks in the rock to steady myself. Another step and my foot slips, my handhold gone and before I can react, I’m falling.

Castor’s hand snaps out before I completely slip off the rock, effortlessly pushing me back against the wall. “Careful.”

I look up at him, wide-eyed, but he’s already turned his attention back to the climb. I reset my handhold in the cracks and shimmy along the last icy patch, but I don’t miss the feeling of a hovering hand on the small of my back as I cross the edge.

It seems as though hours have passed by the time we make it through. The gusts of wind turn to howls, whipping through the air and catching on our clothes. I block the wind with my hand, fighting the harsh chill creeping up my spine.

“Are you cold?” Baron asks through the wind.

“Fuck off.” I shudder.

He holds up his hands in surrender, but there’s a smirk on his face. “Jesus, doll, I just asked if you’re cold.”

“Of course I’m cold!” I snap. “It’s fucking snowing!”

His smirk turns into a mocking laugh as he shrugs. “You should’ve brought a jacket then.”

My hands ball into fists, but the men snicker, pushing ahead of me without another word.

Just a little bit longer, Helena. Then you can kick both of their asses.

The wind picks up speed the longer we navigate. The snow swirls around us until it’s painful like needles stabbing at our skin despite our protection. I squint through the snow, but all I see is a wall of white. There’s nothing out there.

That’s when I see the gray clouds above us.

A storm.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

Baron’s eyes snap up instantly, and when he follows my gaze, he freezes.

“Shit,” he says, turning back to Castor. “Storm’s moving fast. We’re running out of time.” He turns back to me, pressing his body against the face of the mountain to brace the wind and snow. “How long until we breach the summit?”

“Not long enough,” I scan through the landscape for a way out, but there’s nowhere to go. A straight drop looms ahead, connecting to the ridge that’s covered in a blizzard of snow.

We’re trapped.

“You know the area. Are there any cave systems nearby?” I ask, but the two men shake their heads. “There has to be somewhere we can take shelter.”

“Acacia blew the only one we knew of.” Baron jumps ahead, but the snow is falling too fast to climb through.

“We need to go back,” Castor shouts, shielding his face from the wind. “We won’t survive this storm.”

Panic claws at my chest. The fresh snow has completely covered our shoes in seconds and it’s falling harder with the winding picking up speed. We’ll be buried in minutes without shelter. My eyes lock onto the snow, and my eyes widen. I drop to my knees, digging frantically. The snow is deep. Deep enough to bury all three of us.

“Help me dig,” I shout back at them. “We can make a snow cave.”

Baron exchanges a glance with Castor. “Helena, I don’t think that’ll help the way you want it to.”

“Just trust me,” I insist. “The snow will insulate us.”

They both look at me like I’ve lost it, and for a moment, I think they might actually be content in letting us stay out here to freeze, but when the wind switches direction and turns the snow into an impossible fog, they kneel beside me and start shoveling out snow with their arms.

The cold makes it unbearable to move. Each of my nerves feel as if they’re slowly being pulled apart and my hands grow stiffer until I can’t feel them at all. But finally, we manage to tunnel deep into the mountainside and climb inside. It’s cramped but we manage to fit away from the harsh wind and snow.

I wedge myself next to Baron beside the rock of the mountain as Castor climbs inside and packs snow at the entrance, sealing us inside.

He shifts uncomfortably, his head hunched between his shoulders while he flexes his legs in the small space.

“This was a horrible idea,” he grumbles.

“At least we’re not freezing to death,” Baron chatters.

“Not the worst situation I’ve been in this week,” I hug myself, willing the pressure to warm myself up, but even without the wind, the cold is agonizing. The snow stings at my skin and the tips of my toes are throbbing with cold like pins sticking into each of them.

At least my hands don’t hurt anymore.

“Christ, your hands are blue!” Castor takes them in his hand, massaging each one carefully with his thumbs, until the pain comes back into one of them and I yank them away, willing them to come to life on their own.

Baron shuffles next to me, and he tosses his jacket into my lap. “Here.”

I hesitate for a moment, waiting for some spiteful reply that I owe him a blowjob for keeping me alive, but he doesn’t even look at me. His head turns away, muttering angrily to himself, but he doesn’t say anything to me.

I take it, slipping it over my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“Whatever, we’re even now,” he mutters under his breath.

Castor cuts me off before I have a chance to speak.

“You were quick on your feet,” Castor says, blowing into his hands. “Something you learned at home?”

I say nothing at first, keeping my focus on the color slowly returning to my fingertips.

Castor nudges me. “Talk. It’ll keep you alert.”

I flex my fingers, wincing when it creates a flash of pain spidering out into my hand. Frostbite fucking hurts, and it’s not the cold that hurts. I find the numbness soothing, until you get warm again, and then they just fucking hurt.

“When I was twelve,” I start, shivering when another chill runs up my spine, “my dad used to take me hiking on Devil’s Paw. Every year we’d go up to a base camp, 3000 feet up.”

Another blast of cold wracks through my body and I pull my knees up to tuck in the heat, but it only worsens the shaking in my body.

Baron shifts beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his arms. Castor follows, pressing his body against mine. I freeze when they both settle between me, my eyes wide. What the hell are they playing at?

They both catch my stare, but they don’t speak, only giving me an irritated gesture.

Guess they’re too cold to try and fuck me this time.

“That year, he took me to the summit. On the way down, we got separated. A storm hit, and we wandered too close to a wolf den. He screamed at them, throwing branches, scaring them off, but I couldn’t find him afterward. He taught me how to make a snow cave, said it would keep me warm.”

Castor nods slowly, and for the first time, I see the beginning of a smile.

“Well, that explains a lot,” he says.

“Nice to know you listened at one point.” Baron laughs.

I roll my eyes, leaning back against the snow wall. The wind howls outside the cave, stirring up wisps of snow that break through the small barrier separating us.

“Don’t suppose I get to know about your past?” I say, glancing up from the cover of the coat.

Castor instantly recoils, unwrapping his arms from around me. “Not a chance.”

I glance at Baron and the arm wrapped loosely around my back. He meets my stare, daring me to mention it, but I don’t. Not this time, at least.

“You seem to know a bit about survival,” I say, nodding towards his baron. “You’re a hunter.”

His arm around me tenses, but he grins. “You seem to keep forgetting, doll. We aren’t friends.”

“Aww come on, Baron,” Castor chides. “Indulge the girl. She seems lonely. She’ll need some new friends since all her old ones are dead.”

I throw a glare at him. “Do you have to try to be an asshole, or does it just come naturally?”

“Which answer do you like better?”

I purse my lips, fighting back the urge to snap back. “Alright then. How did you get Acacia on your radar?”

“So many questions,” Baron drawls. “I don’t think it escaped you, doll, but Castor and I are a professional nuisance. It doesn’t take much to piss off someone like them.”

I bite back a smile. I can’t say they’re wrong. The military has a way of finding the most insufferable men and stroking their ego by giving them a gun. Doesn’t surprise me that they were a product of that.

I try to prompt them again.

“So, one of your missions got in the way of theirs then?”

“Something like that,” Castor mumbles.

I groan, closing my eyes to stave off the mounting frustration. “Fine. If you don’t want to talk about yourselves, tell me about my dad.”

They both freeze, and Baron falters. His eyes are wide and his mouth opens and closes, like he’s about to say something, but his voice is dry and cracked—that same reaction I’d seen every time his name was spoken, like a physical punch to their face.

Finally, Castor breaks the silence, but his tone is different, softer.

“He was a good man,” he says after a moment.

“He was a part of Acacia.” The words are sand in my mouth, bitter and grainy. I’ve never spoken so contemptuously of my dad before. He was everything I aspired to be—kind, gentle, and selfless.

And he lived his life as a murderer.

“Did he hurt anyone?” I almost don’t want an answer. I want to pull back into my head, into the dream where I’m sitting by the fire with my mom and dad after a hiking trip, but the memory is tainted, and now all I see is a man grooming me to kill like him.

Castor shakes his head.

“Don’t ask, Helena,” he warns. “He was a good man. That’s all you need to know. He saved our lives. He’s the reason we’ve gotten so close to getting rid of Acacia.”

Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better. No. It’s fucking agonizing. The Codex. My dad could’ve been alive, and they could’ve taken his place. But they didn’t. They’re here and he’s not.

I deserve to know why.

“I don’t care what you want,” I say, swallowing down the sob in my voice. I blow out a breath, forcing a sharpness to front the answer I already know. “Did he hurt anyone?”

Castor’s gaze flickers to Baron for a brief second before he nods. “Yeah. He did.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I want to scream at them. They’re fucking lying. I knew my dad. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He never killed unless he had to, even when we hunted, he taught me to only kill if it served a purpose.

But it’s not a lie. Baron and Castor can’t even fucking look at me. They’ve known this entire time who my dad was. Strangers. Killers. I can’t even say it because it’ll make it real. It makes everything real. My father—the man who taught me everything—hurt people. Killed people, innocent men, women and children, for money. My throat tightens, but I swallow down the emotion.

Baron sighs, placing a hand on my shoulder, I don’t fight him. “Look, doll. You need to understand something about Acacia. They have a lot more than military connections. They’ve got influence everywhere—law enforcement, politicians, churches. They’ve got contractors posing as security, professors, blue-collar workers, bartenders. And those are just the ones we know about. They had him under constant surveillance, even before he joined. He was worried about you and your mother. There was no way of safely getting you both out without them knowing.”

I nod, trying to absorb everything he’s saying, but it feels like the walls are closing in. The cold is seeping deeper into my bones, and my eyelids feel heavy. I want to retreat, to see my dad again—the part of him I want to see.

My mind starts to drift, their voices becoming distant as my dad’s takes over.

“Helena.”

Someone’s calling my name, but it’s muffled, like I’m underwater.

Dad.

Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve handled it. I could’ve helped you.

Another flash of heat, and I close my eyes. I see orange and red, I hear the crackling of the wood and my mom’s soft laughter.

“Helena…” he calls to me.

I can feel his arms welcoming me, taking me closer to the fire.

I’m here Dad. I’m here…

A sharp slap snaps me back to reality, and I’m blasted with ice and pain and snow.

“What the fuck?” I say, rubbing my cheek.

“No sleeping.” Baron barks.

I moan, leaning my head back against the frigid rock. “I’m not even that tired. I was just resting my eyes.”

Baron leans in, raising his hand again in warning. “No. Sleeping.”

“Then say something at least!” I shout, throwing up my hands. “You fucking expect me to stay awake in utter silence for hours?”

“We don’t do small talk,” Castor grumbles

I roll my eyes. “How about a name then, Silas…” I draw his name out, the ends coiling around us like a snake wrapping us tight.

Castor’s eyes lift to meet mine. “No.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t need to know.”

I groan. “Fine. Tell me something before I doze off again.” I shift between the two men, flexing my frozen muscles in the cramped space.

Castor stiffens next to me before groaning. “Stay still unless you want to warm up with a handjob.”

I stop. Definitely don’t want to do that. I’m surprised they did me the courtesy of asking me this time.

Another chill makes me shiver.

The cold is insufferable and Baron’s slaps are even less appealing than suffering the elements without them. Silence in a storm is what kills, not the cold. Sleep is a drug and in the mountains, it’s lethal. Even in some places, sitting down is a mark for death. You have to force yourself to keep going.

“Please,” I whisper. “Just something to ride out the storm.”

Castor pauses for a moment, then speaks. “This wasn’t our first storm we had to ride out. Sand feels a lot like snow if it’s blowing hard enough…”