“You look beautiful in the snow, little spell-cutter,” Kaelen murmured softly.
He hovered directly over Soren, his broad frame completely shielding the smaller man from the biting wind.
His dark hair was dusted with white frost, and his golden wolf eyes burned with a raw, intense heat that made Soren’s blood melt in his veins.
“You’re…
you’re an idiot,” Soren whispered back.
His voice was raspy, but there was zero venom left in his words.
He glared weakly up at the Alpha, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath.
“We just lost our horse.
We lost half our speed and most of our heavy gear.”
“We lost the horse, but I still have you,”
Kaelen replied smoothly, a faint, dark smirk touching the corner of his lips.
He didn’t give Soren time to argue and slowly pushed himself up onto his knees, then reached down, his calloused hand wrapping gently around Soren’s bandaged fingers.
With effortless strength, he immediately pulled the Soren off the freezing stone ledge.
Soren’s legs wobbled beneath him the moment he stood upright.
The sheer drop of adrenaline, combined with the lingering fatigue from the anchor spell, made his head spin wildly, so he instinctively grabbed Kaelen’s leather-armored forearm to steady himself, cursing under his breath as he looked around.
The snow storm was growing thicker by the second, burying the narrow cliff path in rising white drifts.
Ten feet back up the trail, the second horse—the pack stallion carrying their food supplies and medical kits—stood shivering against the rock face, its dark eyes wide with fear, but its footing secure.
“We can’t stay on this cliff,” Kaelen said, his playful tone vanishing instantly as his gaze scanned the whiteout horizon.
“The storm is turning into a full gale, and Lucian’s trackers won’t be far behind once sunrise hits.
There’s a high-altitude cave about a mile up this pass.
We need to make for it on foot.”
Soren adjusted the strap of his leather satchel, his frost-numbed fingers wrapping tightly around the rose-colored chain connecting their wrists.
“Lead the way, Alpha.”
Kaelen reached out, his hand sliding down from Soren’s wrist until their fingers firmly locked together.
He didn’t let go.
Turning his broad back against the wind burst of snow, Kaelen stepped straight into the blinding storm, dragging Soren safely beside him within the protection of his massive frame.
The next hour was a slow, agonizing trek through frozen hell.
The snow was knee-deep in most places, hiding jagged rocks and slippery ice patches beneath a soft white powder.
Every step required sheer physical willpower.
Soren’s boots felt like lead weights, his toes burning with a sharp, icy ache that slowly gave way to dangerous numbness.
The wind screamed through the high crags of Frost-Pike Pass, whipping snow against their faces like thousands of tiny glass needles.
Whenever Soren stumbled over a hidden ridge, Kaelen’s grip on his hand tightened instantly, keeping him upright before his knees could hit the snow.
The Alpha walked like an unyielding titan, cutting a path through the drifts with his sheer size.
*He isn’t even wearing heavy furs,* Soren thought, his mind dazed as he stared at the back of Kaelen’s neck.
*His blood is burning hot from the wolf magic.
He’s taking the full force of the wind so I don’t freeze.*
As they climbed higher, the air grew dangerously thin.
He clamped his teeth together, refusing to complain, but his ragged gasps didn’t escape Kaelen’s sharp senses.
Without a word, Kaelen slowed his stride, adjusting his pace to match Soren’s shorter steps, his fingers squeezing Soren’s hand in a quiet, reassuring pulse.
Finally, tucked high into the sheer black granite wall of the pass, a dark split appeared behind a curtain of massive, frozen icicles.
“There,” Kaelen shouted over the roar of the wind, pointing his free hand toward the hidden gap.
Kaelen drew his heavy hunting blade and slashed through the thick ice pillars with short, brutal strikes, clearing a narrow opening.
He shoved Soren inside first, then grabbed the pack stallion’s reins, hauling the trembling animal through the gap behind them.
The moment they stepped through, the deafening howl of the blizzard dropped into a muffled, distant echo.
The cave was wide, dry, and pitch-black, smelling faintly of old stone, snow, and dry earth.
Kaelen then lead the horse toward a natural stone alcove near the side wall, unbuckling its heavy leather packs and letting them fall to the stone floor with a dull thud.
He worked with practiced efficiency, pulling a small iron striker and a bundle of dry tinder from his survival pouch.
Soren on the other hand didn’t even have the strength to stand and by then his knees gave out, and he collapsed heavily onto a low stone bench near the center of the room.
A violent, uncontrollable shiver wracked his entire body as the lingering frost on his hair and cloak began to melt in the sheltered air.
His hands were bright red, his knuckles stiff and completely locked from the cold.
CLACK.
CLACK.
SPARKS.
A small flame caught the dry tinder.
Kaelen fed it small pine twigs from the pack, then added larger chunks of wood until a warm, bright orange glow filled the dark cavern.
Long, dancing shadows stretched across the rough granite walls, instantly pushing back the oppressive chill.
Kaelen unbuckled his heavy iron shoulder guards, tossing them onto the stone floor with a loud metallic clatter.
He stripped off his wet leather gloves, walked over to Soren, and dropped down onto his knees right in front of him.
Without asking, Kaelen reached out and scooped both of Soren’s shivering, stiff hands into his massive, fiery palms.
“Let me,” Kaelen said softly.
He began rubbing Soren’s pale hands between his own, his skin radiating an intense, natural heat.
Kaelen raised Soren’s hands to his lips, blowing hot, steady breath over his stiff fingers to force the blood circulation back into his veins.
Every time Kaelen’s warm, calloused thumbs brushed over the bandages and raw scars on Soren’s skin, a sharp, electric warmth shot straight up Soren’s arms, making his breath hitch in his throat.
“You’re freezing,” Kaelen murmured, keeping his head lowered as he carefully massaged each of Soren’s numb knuckles.
“Your core is drained from holding that anchor spell earlier.
You have no internal fire left to fight off the mountain air.”
“I…
I am fine,” Soren rasped out, his teeth chattering so hard he could barely articulate the words.
“It’s just…
a little cold.”
“You’re a terrible liar, spell-cutter,” Kaelen whispered, looking up as the bright firelight caught the sharp, handsome angles of the his face, highlighting the firm line of his jaw and softening the usual ruthless intensity in his golden eyes.
Soren stared down at him, frozen in place.
*I am falling,* the thought popped from nowhere into his mind making him realized with a sudden, overwhelming stroke of clarity.
The realization hit him harder than the physical impact of the fall off the horse.
Despite the curse…
despite the Council…
despite the fact that he is a Citadel Alpha meant to rule a territory and I am a rogue spell-cutter running from my past…
I can’t believe am falling for him.
The electric pull of the mate-bond hummed quietly through the chain between their wrists.
It wasn’t the violent, forcing magic created by the High Priestess’s spell anymore.
It had transformed into something steady, deep, and terrifyingly real.
Kaelen raised his head higher, his golden eyes locking straight onto Soren’s blue ones.
He didn’t stop rubbing Soren’s hands, his thumb gently tracing the smooth skin over Soren’s racing pulse point.
“What are you thinking about?” Kaelen asked softly, his deep, gravelly voice filling the quiet, firelit cave.
“Your pulse is hammering like a trapped bird.”
Soren swallowed hard, his throat dry as he tried to construct his usual icy defense.
But looking down into Kaelen’s face, surrounded by the warmth of the fire while the storm raged outside, the wall simply shattered.
“I am thinking…” Soren whispered, his raspy voice barely audible over the crackle of the wood.
“…that we might actually survive this.”
Kaelen smiled.
It wasn’t his usual dark smirk or arrogant grin, but a genuine, breathtakingly warm smile that completely melted the fearsome mask of the Blackthorn Alpha.
He leaned up, shifting his weight until he was hovering close to Soren’s face, and pressed a quiet, lingering kiss straight onto Soren’s warm knuckles.
“We will, Soren,” Kaelen murmured against his skin, his breath hot against Soren’s hands.
“I promise you.
No Council, no Northern Pack, and no curse is taking you away from me.”
Soren closed his eyes, letting out a soft, trembling breath as he leaned his forehead lightly against Kaelen’s shoulder.
He didn’t pull his hands away.
For the first time since the chain had locked around his wrist, he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Outside, the snow storm roared violently against the rough mountain peaks, burying the frozen wilderness in ice.
But inside the dark, dry cave, sitting beside the crackling fire, the chain between their wrists glowed with a deep, unbreakable warmth.
Lawd!!
The protectiveness is off the charts!
Soren finally admitted to himself that he’s falling for him…
but with the storm raging outside, and the Northern Pack trackers hunting them down, they’re far from safe.
How do you think they’ll tackle the rest of Frost-Pike Pass .
Drop your theories in the comments, add the story to your library, and drop a vote if you loved this chapter!
See you in Chapter 16!