Chapter Ten

A Midwinter Night’s Dream

“Lance? Lance!”

He heard Julia’s voice from the living room, the sweetest sound he had heard in a long time. It was soft, gentle like a trickling stream. A smile tugged at the corners of Lance’s mouth, and he paused in the kitchen, glancing up from the meal he’d been serving.

“I’ll be there soon!” he called back.

He spooned healthy portions of food onto the wooden plates, grinning to himself as he carried them in. He’d been working in the kitchen for the past couple of hours or so. More time than he usually spent preparing meals. But this was an exception. It was Christmas.

And he couldn’t wait to see Julia’s eyes light up.

It had been a little over two weeks since the fae woman showed up at his front door, covered with snow and trembling like a leaf. In that time, Lance had gotten to know her—in some ways more than others. Looking back on it now, he couldn’t resist a chuckle. Who would have imagined something like this happening to him?

If anything, this was a Christmas surprise. And a wonderful one at that.

He had to admit he wasn’t used to having other people stay at his place. He’d never really been one to accommodate guests, especially not for weeks. But Julia was different. Everything about the fae woman was different and wonderful. She was quiet, sitting or lying about the cabin, but Lance didn’t mind. He simply enjoyed her company.

It was strange. But he wasn’t complaining.

Humming to himself, he made his way from the kitchen to the living room, where Julia sat, one leg crossed daintily over the other. She glanced up as he appeared, and her blue eyes instantly lit up.

“Oh, Lance!”

He felt a surge of emotions so powerful he thought his heart might burst. He set down the plates on a stool by the fireplace and turned to face her, unable to keep himself from beaming.

“Merry Christmas,” he told her, leaning in close for a kiss.

It had been over two weeks since he stepped aside and let her into his home. Two weeks since he assured her that she was safe under his roof. And Lance had kept his word. He’d been reluctant at first, but now he was more than happy to spend the rest of the year—and perhaps some more—with this woman.

“Merry Christmas,” she replied, batting her eyelashes at him. In the corner of his eye, he saw her wings flutter slightly behind her.

“You know,” Lance said, “I never imagined—”

A sudden bang cut him off. Every muscle in Lance’s body grew tense. The sound had come from the door.

“What was that?” Julia gasped, laying a hand on his arm.

Nothing good. “Wait here,” he instructed. “There’s someone at the door.”

As if to confirm his suspicions, the banging resumed, more persistent this time. Lance felt his stomach clench as he made his way to the front door. The blizzard had ended over a week ago. The chances that whoever was at the door was in dire need of help were slim. He started to unlock the door but hesitated with his hand on the handle.

“Who is it?” he called.

There was silence for the next few seconds. Then, the banging continued harder than ever.

Lance muttered a string of curses. Whoever was at the door clearly wasn’t here to talk. The possibility that they might be dangerous crossed his mind, but the panic that initially gripped him was quickly brushed aside by the realization that he could shift if things went sideways. A polar bear was dangerous to have as an enemy around these parts.

He opened the door and stared.

“Oh, hell.”

The man before him was almost a foot shorter than he was, and tiny wrinkles lined his face. He wore a dark coat that mostly hid his slim figure, but it took Lance all but two seconds to realize what he was. Blue eyes glowered at him from underneath a wide-brimmed hat.

He wasn’t alone. Flanking him on both sides were four other men. Except these were bigger, taller. This man certainly hadn’t come for a friendly conversation. Lance felt his stomach sink.

“Can I help you?” he asked, although he already knew why the man was there.

“Of course, you can,” the man responded. “Where are you keeping my daughter?”

***

They were moving again, which Lance was grateful for. It had been some days since they left the cave after making certain that Boris wasn’t lurking nearby and waiting to spring another attack. Lance and Mallory were back in the woods, having returned to higher ground. Together, they climbed up the mountain, Lance half-consciously touching his bandages.

Sounds reached him from multiple directions, keeping him aware of their surroundings. A few small creatures scurried through the snow. Snow fell from trees as a gentle wind blew, whispering in his ears. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. They would get some rest and eat some of the food Lance had gathered earlier once it got dark.

Clutched in one hand was a large duffel bag they’d discovered a couple of days earlier, apparently abandoned by someone else on the mountain. Lance suspected the owner was probably dead or had left it behind in frustration. The bag was stuffed with clothes, which Lance and Mallory were grateful for. Over the next couple of days, they’d kept whatever food supplies they could gather in the bag’s pockets.

That was the thing about Frost Mountain, Lance thought now, as they advanced through the woods. It was always full of surprises. The possibilities were, to put it simply, endless. You could find almost anything, anyone , on this mountain. Or be found by them, as he and Mallory had days ago.

His injuries were healing quickly; Mallory made sure of that, checking on him now and then. Lance thought he might be imagining things, but it seemed she had become a different person ever since they jumped over that ledge. Or had it been when Boris attacked? The terror and helplessness he’d seen in her eyes before was slowly fading, replaced with a fierce determination.

And she’d been looking at him a lot lately. At first, Lance had figured the nurse was simply examining his bandages, but he’d soon realized it was something else. More than once, he’d glanced up to find her gazing at him, a curious look in her eyes.

What’s that about? he’d asked himself.

But he already suspected the answer. And it filled him with embarrassment. He hadn’t forgotten what had happened that evening in the cave, either. And it didn’t help matters that he tended to get the same reaction whenever he looked her way for too long.

Hopefully, her hands wouldn’t find his crotch again.

Or maybe they should, he found himself thinking.

No. Lance shunned the thought, forcing back the tidal wave of desire that threatened to crash over him as he glanced in her direction. He shifted his gaze to a nearby tree they were passing. You’re keeping her safe. That’s all. Nothing more.

A wry voice in his head reminded him that he’d promised to keep Julia safe as well. And how had that turned out?

“What’s on your mind?” Mallory’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

She blinked expectantly at him. Lance felt the front of his trousers tighten.

He cleared his throat. “Nothing,” he said a little too quickly.

Mallory groaned suddenly, pausing in her tracks. “I need to stretch for a bit.”

And as he watched, she pulled off the coat and the blue sweater she’d been wearing, baring her back to his eyes. But for the thin strap of her bra, she was completely topless, her shoulders and the small of her back exposed to the cold air. The creamy texture of her skin was not lost to him. Extending from right between her shoulder blades, wrapped around her torso, her gossamer wings gleamed softy in the sunlight streaking through the trees.

Mallory slowly unfurled her wings. It briefly occurred to Lance that they could get attacked any second now, but the sight of her transfixed him too much to pay the thought much attention. He simply stared, lips parted, as she spread her wings with a sigh of relief.

“Feels good,” she said, grinning over her shoulder at him. “Back in my world, I had to tuck my wings every day, but at least I got to open them once I got home from work or in the ladies’ room. Can’t do that very often when your life expectancy literally depends on the weather and whatever wacko is trying to hunt you down.”

But Lance barely heard a word. A rapid flutter filled his chest as he gazed at her, from the gleaming tips of her wings to the brilliant smile that tugged at her lips. He felt a familiar stirring sensation in his trousers and moved, half-absently, to cover his crotch.

“You’re…beautiful,” he muttered.

Her eyes widened slowly. It took him all of three seconds to realize what he’d just said. It seemed the entire woods had suddenly gone silent, a fact that did nothing to assuage the embarrassment that now washed over him.

No…the woods had gone completely silent. Lance frowned. That couldn’t be a good sign.

Green eyes flashed in his memory, sending a chill crawling down to the base of his spine. He was still healing from his last encounter with the Fae Hunter. Had he found them again?

“Lance?” Mallory’s eyebrows knit together in concern. “Is everything alright? Are you in pain, or—”

He held up a hand to silence her. His other hand reached for one of the blades strapped to his thigh, drawing it slowly.

A twig snapped ten feet to his left.

Lance threw the blade.

It sank into a tree trunk with a soft thud. And the woman next to it gaped back with wide eyes.

“Oh!” she gasped, her gaze darting from the blade to Lance and back. “Oh, my God.”

She looked almost as terrible as Mallory had when Lance first found her. The woman’s dark hair and freckled face were covered in snow and some frost, and despite the fact that she’d wrapped herself in several layers of oversized clothing against the cold, she was trembling. Looking at her, a single word filled Lance’s mind: human.

“Emily?” Mallory said suddenly.

The woman’s gaze landed on her. Lance saw the shock register in her eyes. A moment of confusion. Something else he couldn’t quite place crossed her face.

“You,” she breathed, taking a few unsteady steps toward them. “I know you.”

Lance turned to Mallory, his hand hovering over the handle of his other blade. “You know this woman?”

She nodded, frowning. “She was on the plane with me. She was one of the flight attendants. I didn’t know there were any other survivors.”

“I…I saw you,” Emily said. “You got sucked out of the plane. There’s no way you could’ve survived…”

She trailed off, her gaze landing on Mallory’s wings. The silence that followed was heavy with meaning.

“I survived,” Mallory said. “And I’ve been surviving, thanks to him. You look…”

She didn’t have to complete her statement. The truth seemed to hang in the air between them. Emily looked malnourished at best. From what Lance could tell, she’d been traveling for weeks, probably all alone. Her cheekbones were visible, and her eyes were gradually turning into dark, hollow sockets. Underneath the clothes she had on, he suspected she looked even gaunter. Lance was amazed she’d survived this long.

He registered a large, bloodied cloth wrapped tightly around her left thigh. A hasty attempt to stop some bleeding. If he had to guess, she’d sustained injuries when the plane crashed. Lance’s gut twisted. The whole experience must have been traumatic. Mallory hadn’t spoken of it, but he suspected it still haunted her.

“I’m looking for my brother,” Emily said. “He’s one of the other flight attendants. I thought I’d find him in the wreckage, but the plane split apart in midair. I’ve been searching ever since, but he’s nowhere to be found. I don’t even know where the hell I am. There’s no way to contact anyone, and I think I’ve started seeing things.”

“Emily, you need help,” Mallory told her. “Come with us. We…we can look for your brother together once we get to safety and get you patched up. You need plenty of food, water, and rest.”

Emily shook her head. “No, I need to keep searching for him,” she said. “He’s probably made it to the bottom of the mountain by now.”

Lance and Mallory exchanged a silent look. The message passed between them: She doesn’t know yet.

Distraught and malnourished, this woman was headed down a mountain that had no bottom in search of a brother who was most likely dead. Lance saw sympathy cross Mallory’s face.

“Emily,” she said, “this isn’t an ordinary mountain.”

“I can see that. I’m freezing my butt off.” The woman shuddered. “Getting off is my best shot at surviving or finding Drake. I have to.”

And before either Lance or Mallory could say anything else, she turned, shooting Mallory one last look, and headed downhill, a slight limp in her step. The duo watched her until she was completely out of sight.

“She’s not going to make it,” Mallory sighed, a guilty expression on her face. “Not on her own. She needs help.”

“I don’t think she wants your help,” Lance told her calmly. “Especially now that she’s seen you.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

In response, he pointed at her wings. Mallory’s frown deepened for a moment. Then her eyes widened with realization. She quickly tucked her wings around her torso and shrugged back into her sweater and coat, muttering under her breath.

“I completely forgot,” she said. “She must’ve been freaked out when she saw me.”

Lance shrugged. “It’s probably for the best. The fewer of us, the better. The last thing we need is to create a bigger target for Boris to hunt down.”

The statement hung in the air for a moment, settling between them with a chill.

“You know, you give off pretty strong hermit vibes,” she told him as they continued walking. “Like you’d rather be on your own than be around anyone else.”

“It’s the best way to be,” he responded without really thinking.

“And…you’ve always been like this?” She blinked her dark eyes at him. “Alone?”

The memory of Julia’s blue eyes crossed his mind just then. Mallory frowned at him, and he realized he must have shown some reaction to her statement. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words would not come.

“It’ll be dark soon,” he said finally. “We need to find someplace to rest for the night.”

And without another word, he continued walking.