Chapter 2

The landscape stretches before me, a desolate canvas painted in shades of white and gray. The bitter wind bites at my exposed skin, carrying with it the eerie silence of the winter wilderness. It”s in this stark setting that I stumble upon her, a fragile figure barely discernible against the snow-covered ground.

The shadow of her movement catches my eye, drawing me closer. As I approach, the haunting beauty of her appearance strikes me—her skin, pale as moonlight, is marred by bruises, blood, and the telltale bluish tint of hypothermia on her lips. She resembles a snow angel fallen from grace, yet there”s nothing angelic about the state she”s in.

Without hesitation, I rush to her side, feeling the cold seeping through my own clothes as I lift her from the freezing ground. She”s limp in my arms, her battered body disturbingly light making it easy to hold her above the snow.

The journey to our cabin feels endless, each step a battle against the biting cold and howling wind. Finally, we burst through the door, my voice echoing through the wooden walls as I call out to my companions. Concern etches their faces as they take in the sight of the unconscious girl in my arms.

”What the fuck?” Damon”s voice cuts through the tension as he inspects her injuries.

Ignoring him, I make my way to the room I use and gently lay her on my bed. It”s then that the full extent of her injuries becomes painfully clear—bruises, blood, and cuts adorn her fragile frame, telling a story of unspeakable suffering.

As we work to remove her wet clothes, I am surprised to feel a small sense of helplessness. The cold has taken its toll, her pulse weak and barely discernible beneath my fingertips. We need to act fast to prevent her from slipping away.

Rayth springs into action, fetching blankets and cranking up the electric heating. We know the snowstorm forecasted means our power supply is uncertain, so we use it while we have it.

”She”s hypothermic,” Rayth observes grimly. ”We have to warm her up.”

”We need to share body heat,” I declare, my voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. ”It”s the fastest way to warm her.”

Damon and Rayth exchange glances, but they don’t offer any objection, understanding the gravity of the situation. There”s no room for hesitation; we need to save her life. I begin to strip out of my wet clothes, and Rayth follows suit. Meanwhile, Damon moves to the fireplace in my room and starts to build a fire.

Sliding under the layers of blankets, I carefully position her, rolling her onto her side and curling my body around her back to offer the most skin contact. I adjust my arms when the thought occurs to me that I should be mindful of her injuries. Sliding my arm up the center of her body between her small breasts, I rest my hand at the base of her throat. She is so small that when I slide my other arm under the pillows, the movement barely even jostles her.

Rayth slides in on the other side of her and presses himself to the front of her. His hands move and adjust her until their legs entwine and his hand presses to her hip. His other arm mirrors mine beneath the blankets.

None of us are small men; we are large and our bodies trained to be the deadliest of weapons. We aren’t soft, our edges are sharp like the knives we frequently hold in our hands. The contrast between her vulnerability and our imposing figures is stark. But here, in this moment, we are gentle giants, cradling her with all the tenderness we can muster.

The fragile pulse under my fingertips serves as a lifeline, a connection to a soul teetering on the edge.

As we lay there, enveloped in the warmth we collectively generate, I”m struck by the odd sensation of feeling something other than indifference. Emotions are foreign territory for me, a realm I seldom venture into. Yet, here I am, sharing body heat to save the life of a stranger, something that normally wouldn’t even occur to me. I don’t usually feel anything but ambivalence towards everything and everyone.

The odd sensation of feeling something emotionally grips me. It is unfamiliar, almost unsettling, but it”s something almost primal and raw, possessive even. I ponder the connection between this wounded angel in my arms and the stirring of emotions within me. I don’t care who she is or where she came from; the simple fact that she triggers any reaction means that she is mine from that moment.

It isn’t long before the feeling of her body pressed against mine has my cock stirring. I push my body”s reaction aside, adjusting until it rests more comfortably against the crease of her ass.

Damon, having built a fire in the fireplace, takes up a watchful position in an armchair by the bed. The room glows with the flickering light of the flames, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The warmth we generate melds with the heat from the fire, creating a sanctuary.

Despite our efforts, she remains unconscious, lost in the depths of her own trauma. The silence in the cabin is broken only by the crackling of the fire, a stark contrast to the storm that rages outside.

Hours pass, each minute feeling like an eternity. Damon and Rayth took turns keeping watch, checking her pulse, and adjusting the warmth around her. I refuse to move from where I am at her back. The concern etched on our faces deepens as we face the possibility that our efforts might not be enough to bring her back.

But gradually, the warmth we share begins to have an effect. Her pulse grows stronger beneath my fingertips, and the color slowly returns to her pale skin, and her shivering begins to subside.

As if the warmth we provide has penetrated the layers of her unconsciousness, she stirs. Her eyelashes flutter, and a faint groan escapes her lips. The first signs of life returning.

Her eyes open slowly, adjusting to the soft glow of the fire-lit room. Confusion flickers across her features as she takes in her surroundings, her gaze moving from one unfamiliar face to another.

Startled, she gasps and attempts to sit up, only to be met with my firm voice, ”Shut the fuck up and lay still.” The harshness surprises even me, but I’m not about to let her jeopardize the fragile balance we have achieved. She needs to understand that we are her lifeline, not a threat, but I don’t know how.

Rayth, who returned to the bed not long ago, speaks gently as he senses her distress. ”Easy there. You”re safe. We found you in the snow, and you were freezing. We”re trying to warm you up. Just relax.”

Her eyes widen, a mix of fear and confusion still lingering even as she melts back into her place between us. It is evident she isn”t accustomed to kindness or concern.

With a sigh, I decide to offer what explanation I can. ”I stumbled upon you in the snow. You were nearly frozen to death. We need to raise your temperature quickly, and sharing body heat is the most efficient way.”

Damon stands and heads toward the bedroom door. ”I’ll get her something to drink. She needs nutrients.”

As Damon leaves the room, she shifts her hips, pressing back against me. The sensation of my hardened cock against her makes her startle, a blush creeping across her pale cheeks. I grunt at her, my voice low and rough, ”Keep still. You”re in no state for me to fuck you like I would if given the chance.”

Rayth”s eyes shoot to me, and he snaps my name, a blend of reproach and concern in his voice. He then turns to her and apologizes on my behalf. ”Sorry about Killian. He lacks a filter, especially in delicate situations like this. We”re here to help, and would never take advantage of you like that.”

As she adjusts slightly again, a subtle movement that I can’t quite interpret, I can’t help but wonder if she did it on purpose. Her eyes betray neither fear nor embarrassment, leaving me to question the motivation behind her actions. But now isn”t the time for such thoughts; our priority is her recovery.

Damon returns with one of our juice packs specially loaded with vitamins and nutrients. He offers it to her with a kind smile. She takes it cautiously, sipping from the straw as Damon watches attentively.

”It will help your strength come back,” Damon reassures her. ”Drink it slowly.”

Rayth interjects with a soft tone, ”When you”re ready, we”d like to hear your story. You don”t have to tell us everything, but it might help.”

As she continues to sip from the juice pack, her gaze moves between the three of us, perhaps assessing the sincerity in our eyes. I tighten my hand on her throat gently, a gesture meant to convey reassurance rather than aggression, and say, ”All I want to know for now is a name. Can you give me that?”

Her voice is timid, a fragile whisper that barely reaches our ears. ”Everly,” she utters, her eyes downcast.

”No, Angel,” I say, my tone serious, my grip on her throat easing. ”I need to know who did this to you, who am I killing?”

Rayth shoots me a glance, a silent reprimand for my directness, but I ignore it. The urgency of the situation demands straightforwardness.

A flicker of something enters Everly”s eyes, a spark of defiance, and then a slow nod follows. The first hint of fire begins to burn in her gaze. ”It is... my stepfather,” she confesses, her voice trembling. ”I didn”t think he would stop hitting me until I was dead, so I... I grabbed the frypan and struck him in the head. Then I ran. I don”t even know if I killed him or not.”

The revelation hangs heavy in the air. I tighten my grip on her throat for a moment longer in an attempt to convey my promise of protection. To my surprise she melts into me with a sigh.

Damon takes the now-empty juice packet from her, offering a comforting smile. Her eyes flutter shut again, exhaustion evident in every line of her fragile form.

Rayth gently brushes her blonde hair back from her face. ”Rest now, Everly,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. ”You”re safe now. We”ll watch over you.”

As she settles between us, the final lingering tension in her body gradually eases.

Outside, the storm intensifies, the wind howling like a wounded beast and the snow battering against the cabin windows. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an eerie dance of light that matches the turbulence of the night.

As the storm rages on, the power in the cabin flickers and then goes out completely. The room plunges into blackness, leaving only the glow of the fire to illuminate our faces.

None of us move. The silence that follows is broken only by the muffled sounds of the storm outside. Damon, with a small flashlight in hand, returns to the room, casting a dim beam of light over Everly”s sleeping form.

”We”ve lost power,” Damon announces, his voice cutting through the darkness. ”The storm must have taken out the lines.”

I glance at Rayth, and then back at Damon. ”We stay here. No leaving her alone.”

Rayth nods in agreement. ”You’re right, we can try to get the generator going when it eases.”

Damon settles back into the armchair, making himself comfortable as he finds a position that allows him to keep an eye on both the storm outside and Everly in the dim light.

I sink further into the bed, my body relaxing against Everly”s. The tension that had gripped me since finding her begins to disappear, replaced by a weariness that weighs heavily on my shoulders. The warmth we share with her now seeps into my bones, and I feel the pull of sleep tugging at the edges of my consciousness.

Rayth, sensing my fatigue, shoots me a knowing glance. I struggle to sleep at the best of times, so I’m usually the one doing the perimeter checks, which is how I found this angel. He takes up a vigilant position on the other side of Everly.

As the minutes tick by, I find myself succumbing to the lull of exhaustion. The rhythmic rise and fall of Everly”s breathing, the distant howl of the wind, and the comforting warmth of our shared body heat all conspire to pull me into a state of drowsiness.

Without intending to, my grip on Everly loosens, and I shift further down into a more relaxed position. My head nestles against the pillow, and my chin brushes the top of her head. I drift to sleep, inhaling her soft, subtle scent.