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We emerge into the frozen tundra, and the bitter wind slices through me, pulling at my long blonde hair like icy fingers.

The landscape stretches endlessly—an ocean of snow and jagged ice formations jutting from the ground like the fangs of ancient beasts.

Life seems extinct here, swallowed by the white abyss.

I clutch my furs tighter, glancing at Dracoth, watching the mist rise from his enormous frame like he’s a freshly baked cinnamon roll escaping the oven.

I wonder if he’ll carry me again—that felt nice, not to mention a lot easier on my feet.

Although I need to make some effort to show him I’m not just dead weight.

A ridiculous notion, honestly. Just because I’m not a giant, murderous barbarian doesn’t mean I’m useless.

I have a lot to offer: I’m gorgeous, smart, and maybe even funny if he’d ever crack a smile.

Todd, buried deep in my furs, wiggles in agreement.

Dracoth strides ahead, each step crushing and melting the snow under his boots, as the howling wind forces my head to bow.

I keep close, following the path he carves, the compact snow easier to traverse than the deep, sinking, undisturbed layers.

He glances back at me often, his expression hidden beneath the melting snow that clings to his crimson skin.

I offer him a smile each time, struggling to appear strong.

But the truth is—I’m fucking freezing!

Maybe if I hold out a little longer, I can ask him to carry me?

The thought drives me, a flicker of warmth in this frozen wasteland. Wild beasts howl, an eerie echo of wolves from Earth, sending shivers down my spine.

Dracoth halts suddenly, his muscles tense as his gaze sweeps the white expanse. He sniffs the air, his nose wrinkling as if he can detect something—I can’t smell anything. My nose is frozen solid and red, like Rudolph the reindeer.

“Uh... is something wrong?” I ask, following his gaze through the swirling snow but seeing nothing.

“Stay close,” Dracoth growls, his eyes fixated through the blustering snowflake-laden gales. His arm stretches out, beckoning me to his side.

Yay, heat!

I hurry over as he pulls me into his side. His warmth washes over me like a hot bubble bath. Even Arawnoth’s blessing on my chest begins to tingle, growing warmer with his nearness.

“You should carry me... just to be safe,” I offer with a hopeful smile, looking up at him.

I yelp with surprised joy when, without a word or even a glance, Dracoth scoops me up with a single, massive arm.

Wee!

Despite the chilling air and howling icy winds, Dracoth radiates lovely heat even through his thick armor. I don’t know how, but it’s like he’s a giant red pressure cooker and I’m a delicious frozen octopus that needs to be thawed.

So, I slink all my Lexie-pus limbs around him, conforming to his hardness, seeking to soak up as much warmth from him as I can. It’s kind of weird, but I don’t care. It feels right.

Dracoth hastens his pace, each heavy footfall reverberating through me, sending a rush of heat—not only from the red titan carrying me, but from an embarrassing yearning that flares to life in my chest, radiating to my core.

Really, Lexie? Now, of all times?

Suddenly, alien howls rise from the icy winds, deeper and more guttural than wolves, echoing in the distance.

My heart skips a beat, casting frantic glances through the windswept snows, wondering what monsters could make such noises.

The sound is terrifying, freezing my breath, echoing from all around us, like we’re surrounded.

We are surrounded!

Slavering beasts bound after us on bipedal legs, their white furry, scaly hides blending into the snowy wasteland.

I clutch Dracoth tighter, my heart pounding in my chest as I spot their large, muzzled heads and gaping, hungry mouths lined with massive fangs.

I’m no expert in horrifying alien monsters, but judging by their powerful forelimbs ending in vicious claws, I’d guess they aren’t here for treats.

Dracoth suddenly halts, sending my pulse racing as I vibrate in his arms—a silent plea to hurry the hell up!

“Crush your fears,” he growls, pivoting on the spot with his free hand flexing wide, gleaming sword-like claws bursting from his fingers.

Easy for him to say, the walking murder machine!

I can feel his excitement through our bond—he thrives in this, of course he does. Still, his emotions are infectious, feeding a surge of relief which washes over me.

The beasts are close now, baying for our blood. A dozen of them circle around us, snapping and feinting with lightning-quick strikes, their fanged muzzles glistening with saliva, only to pull back at the last moment when Dracoth swivels to face it.

My gaze flickers wildly, trying to track them all, but their speed is disorienting. Their golden eyes gleam with ravenous hunger, their bodies tense, ready to pounce.

“Behind!” I scream, noticing one of the person-sized beasts lunge to slash at Dracoth’s blind spot with outstretched claws.

In an instant, Dracoth spins like a red tornado, his boot connecting with the beast mid-leap, sending it flying with a guttural yelp.

All hell breaks loose. His kick is like some perverse signal for bloody massacre to ensue.

In a blur of motion, he whirls us both, his massive form a whirlwind of claws and crushing blows.

My world becomes a chaotic haze as he spins me through the carnival of carnage, a red hurricane of destruction.

Blood sprays as his claws tear through two beasts mid-air, their scaly heads splitting open with a sickening crack.

The rest crash into him, a writhing mass of claws and fangs, gnawing and rending, seeking to bring down the mountain that is Dracoth.

His strong arm squeezes me tighter, pulling me closer, shielding me from the worst of the onslaught.

My head spins, dizzy from the relentless flurry of movement. One beast latches onto his leg, gnashing its teeth against his armor.

“Get off, you prick!” I scream, lashing out with kicks into the monster’s head, but I think I’m doing more damage to my big toe than its rock-hard skull.

Dracoth must hear my struggle, pivoting sharply with a grunt, driving his claws into the monster’s ribs. The life fades in its eyes instantly, and I can’t help but feel a surge of joy watching it die.

That’s what you get for hurting my foot!

Dracoth spins, shaking free some remaining monsters clinging to him like overgrown pests.

“Kill them, Dracoth! Tear their heads off!” I shout over the slaughter, manic laughter tearing from my lungs, seeing the growing uncertainty in the beasts’ eyes, and it thrills me— my bonded murder mountain, making them suffer for me.

The beasts still latched onto Dracoth, growl and tear at him, but it’s like watching puppies gnaw on a dragon—my red dragon.

He’s unstoppable, immovable. Admiration swells in my chest as Dracoth slashes them with ruthless precision, their blood and entrails coating his long claws while their dying whimpers fade into the wind.

Oh my God, this is hot.

Instinctively, I reach into the realm of our bond, feeling my soul blazing with excitement, searching for something—anything to tap into.

But there’s only a lacking—one aspect of a whole.

The disappointment almost robs me of my laughter, wishing I could help Dracoth by crushing these creatures in my barriers—to teach them a lesson, to prove my worth.

The surviving beasts—only half as many now—hesitate, no longer eager to throw themselves at him. Their growls turn to whines as they scrape their claws across the ice, unsure. I sneer at them, daring them to try again, longing to see my Dracoth rip them into shreds.

With a fierce snarl, Dracoth lunges forward, sending the remaining creatures scurrying back into the snowdrifts.

How disappointing.

“Are you hurt?” Dracoth’s voice rumbles, drawing me from my manic thoughts. He lowers me to cooling green-bloody snow, the cold biting through my fur-lined shoes.

No, his heat!

His hands, massive and firm, prod and check me over like a ragdoll in a washing machine.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I protest, swatting at his hands—though it’s like trying to push away boulders. Then I gasp, noticing streams of green blood oozing between gaps in his armor.

“Wait, you’re the one who’s hurt!” I exclaim, yanking at my clothes to tear off fabric, unsure what I’m doing but feeling compelled to help, mimicking scenes from those terrible action movies Michael made me watch.

Dracoth engulfs my hand, halting me, the heat from his body like a ray of sunshine on a Mediterranean cruise. His red eyes lock onto mine—hard, unyielding. Pure Dracoth.

“I’ll live,” he growls.

Ugh, he’s such a meathead.

“Yeah, but why live like Swiss cheese?” I insist, frowning.

He probably doesn’t even know what Swiss cheese is.

I attempt to wrench my hand free to resume some attempt to help him, but he holds me firm in his ironclad grip, peering down at me with an intense look in his eyes.

My heart skips a beat, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

My eyes flick to his full red lips—suddenly drawn to them like me to a warm cup of rich mocha on a freezing day.

A little kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?

I peek up through my eyelashes, feeling a flush of heat rise in me, mixing with the waves of warmth radiating from his massive frame.

Standing on tiptoe, inching closer to his towering face, excitement spreads throughout my entire body, realizing I want him—want him badly.

Maybe I always have—but now he’s here, my bonded mate, so close.

Dracoth leans down, and my heart soars. His excitement hums through our bond. Now just inches away, taking forever.

Fuck, he’s so tall!

I brace for the inevitable, expecting some juicy Dracoth lip action that’ll melt the snow around us—but then I feel a sudden churning uncertainty erupting from his side of the bond.

And just like that, Dracoth straightens abruptly, striding away like he’s in danger of missing a flight.

My hand falls to my side, letting out a loud sigh of exasperation. The bitter wind carries my breath away in a streamy plume, biting deep at my skin without his warmth. I stare after him, disbelief turning to exasperation.

Unbelievable.

I shake my head with bitter disappointment. It’s infuriating, actually. I’d never entertain such a slight back home.

Can’t he see how hot I am?

Fine, whatever. He’s different—like a special project, all wrapped up in that big silly head of his. I mean, he’s lucky I like him, because I’ll find a way to untangle this murderous virgin.

Arawnoth give me strength!