Frostbitten (10 page)

Zephyr collapsed onto his side, taking Adonia with him and making her squeal like a girl. He spooned her back against his front and she squirmed to tease the still-stiff shaft now wedged against her ass.

“Imp,” he murmured into her ear.

She smiled to herself and relaxed. That was the last thing she remembered before she fell into a deep, much-needed sleep.

When Adonia awoke, Zephyr had just placed steaming plates of food on her little kitchen table. “She returns from the great beyond.” He sensed her mind coming around and knew the moment she was no longer in deep slumber. He scurried over to the bed and sat beside her.

Her face was red on one side, the side she’d been sleeping on for hours.

“I wasn’t sure you’d ever wake up.”

She struggled to sit up as though she’d been ill for months. “That smells so good. How long was I asleep?”

“Almost a full day.” He grinned and pointed at the little window across the room. “Look.”

Ahh. “So it worked?”

“Appears so. You’ll be handy to have around when I need a little water or some sunshine.” He pulled her into his embrace and buried his face in her glorious hair.

She tore away from him to stare him down. “I don’t think I’m intended to use my power at your whim, my love. Mother Nature might not take too kindly to the idea.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Kidding. Just kidding.”

She inhaled deeply and tipped her head back. “I’m so hungry.”

“I’m sure you are. Let’s get you fed.” He reached under her knees and lifted her into his embrace, loving the feel of her naked body against his chest. He’d lain with her for over half the time she’d been asleep, just watching her peacefully at rest, but he’d not been able to stay there forever. He’d grown restless. “You used up a tremendous amount of energy maintaining that storm.”

“I feel like I could climb a mountain now.” She leaned her head on his chest. “After I eat.”

He set her naked body on a chair and filled her plate with the stew he’d heated and warm bread. He’d even found cheese and logs of sausage in her stash of supplies.

“How much of the snow has melted?”

“Most of it. In a few days it’ll be a distant memory. I’m betting the majority of the storm damage is centered on this cabin. If we get a ways out, we’ll find the rest of the world in much better shape. Maybe we could shift and hunt later today.”

She perked up at the idea. “Sounds fantastic. Your stew is awesome, but there’s nothing like fresh meat…if you can avoid considering where the animal came from and who you’re leaving behind in his death.” She giggled.

“That sounds awful.” How did she do it?

“Eh,” she shrugged, “I mostly tune it out now. When I was a kid, it was horrific. Especially since my mother thought I was nuts. But now I’m better at blocking.”

That’s for sure
. Thank God he was an expert blocker, or she’d know precisely what he was thinking all the time. Normally mates could delve into each other’s minds. Adonia had not shown any propensity toward that, as yet. If she didn’t find a way into his head soon, he’d be a lucky man. He could sit here and watch her eat, gazing at the way her sexy breasts swayed as she reached a forkful toward her mouth. The smell of her arousal made him close his eyes for a second to savor her scent.

“You’re quite cocky, big guy.” She reached for a slice of bread as he whipped his eyes open. The huge grin stretching across her face told him his luck had run out on the issue of telepathy. “It’s cute, though.”

“What is,” he hedged. Did he really want to know?

“The way your cock bobs against your belly when you think I’m incapable of knowing how you’re reacting to my nudity.” She stuffed a bite in her mouth and winked at him.

When she finished her enormous meal, Zephyr pushed the front door open and blocked his eyes against the bright sunshine glaring off the still-white landscape.

Adonia reached around his waist from behind and hugged him tight. “I’m not super hungry right now, but I’d love to run with you.”

“That’d be wonderful. Let’s do it.” He took her hand and pulled it to his mouth to plant a kiss on her palm. “I’ve never felt so cooped up in my life. I need to stretch my limbs and run free.”

“What? No woman has ever held you hostage before, insisting on sexual favors while forcing you to do her bidding?”

“Nope. But I’m so glad
you
did.”

“Me too.”

Zephyr nodded toward the valley in front of them and stepped outside, dragging her along. They shifted easily into wolf form and pranced around each other, preening. Zephyr gazed with admiration at his mate’s gorgeous white fur.
“You’re spectacular, baby,”
he communicated through his mind into hers.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”
She tipped her head to one side.
“This way. Follow me.”

“Woman, are you always going to boss me around?”

“Probably.”
She ran, her fur ruffling in the wind. Her lean body was a sight to behold.

He followed her, allowing her to lead. After all, it was her territory, a place she’d lived her entire life. The woman knew where she was going.

A few hours later, he noticed the cabin loomed in front of them. They’d gone in a wide arc and he’d done nothing but watch her and keep up.

She stepped right up to the front door before she shifted back, and she ducked inside the cabin quickly, bouncing on her toes to avoid the cold snow as much as possible. “That was fantastic.”

He had to agree. The best run of his life. Zephyr shifted on her heels and shut the door behind him to keep out the cold air. He raced toward the bed, tugged off a quilt, and quickly wrapped them together inside it. He rocked her against his body for several seconds.

Finally, she tilted her head back and stared up at him. “My mother will be here soon. I can sense her.”

He nodded. “We should get dressed.” Reluctantly, he released her, and they both leaned down to grab clothes from all over the floor. As he stood, buttoning his jeans, he found her staring at him.

“Take me to my father. I’m ready.”

He gasped. He’d expected a month-long battle over this topic. And he hadn’t expected to win.

She smiled. “I need to learn how to hone this skill and use it for good. I need to know if there are others like me. If I have siblings, I want to meet some of them.”

He kissed her forehead and then pressed her cheek against his chest. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

“I love you too.”

“When do you want to go?”

“As soon as possible. I have a lot of time to make up for.”

“We’ll head out at first light tomorrow.”

“Perfect.” She squeezed his chest hard, and he loved the feel of her wrapped around his body. “Oh, and one more thing,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Thanks for the fuck.”

He grinned. His precious little nymph. “You’re welcome. But don’t get used to it. I prefer slow languid sex where I can look into your eyes and watch that little flicker that lights up the moment you go over the edge.”

Adonia gripped Zephyr’s hand until her fingers started to ache. She stared at the large, wooden, double doors looming in front of her, frozen in her spot, unable to step toward the entrance. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

Zephyr twisted in her grip until he faced her, blocking her view of the ancient metal handles in the center of the doors. “He’s going to love you as much as I do. He’s never met a child of his he didn’t adore. Besides, you take after him more than any of the other offspring I’ve met. I’m betting he’ll be beyond curious about your abilities.”

She swallowed hard, unable to clear the lump in her throat. Suddenly this entire thing seemed like a bad idea. She’d been perfectly comfortable with her mother alone in the wilds of Siberia. Why rock the boat?

But, her mother had encouraged her to go. As soon as the woman arrived at the cabin, she’d known what had occurred in her absence. She’d entered the small wooden structure smiling. “Adonia…” Her voice had rasped. She’d touched Adonia’s cheek and then set her other palm on Zephyr’s. “I was only gone two days.”

Mila had not wanted to go with them to confront Jack Frost. “Not this time,” she’d said. “You have to fulfill your own destiny. Maybe I’ll have the courage to join you later, but I need time.”

Adonia nodded. She’d understood her mother perfectly. After twenty-seven years alone with her daughter, she’d suffered a shock. Tears filled her eyes, but Adonia knew they weren’t tears of sadness.

“I love you, Adonia,” she’d said. “I’ll always love you. Go. Meet your father. You have my blessing.”

Adonia shook the memories from her head. That had been three days ago, but seemed like a lifetime. She’d traveled so far with Zephyr to reach this point in her life. Not just the distance. No, that wasn’t the half of it. She’d traveled through time and space, feeling as though she were an apparition. She was out-of-body, floating next to Zephyr most of the time.

“Relax, love.” He gripped her neck with one hand, pushing her hair out of the way. He set his forehead against hers. “Breathe with me.” He inhaled, and she did too. “You are as real as I am. I know it’s a lot to take in. You’re a sensitive and your senses are overwhelmed. But, I’m here for you, at your side. I won’t let go of you, ever.”

“My past is sheltered. Organized. Easy.”

“Your future is not.” He chuckled. “I can’t promise organized or easy. I don’t really resemble those characteristics. Nor does your father. But, I can promise to love you and care for you through it all.”

She sucked in a lungful of oxygen and held it. She could see deep into his eyes, into his soul. He was serious. He would never abandon her. “You have a goofy look on your face.”

“I got bitten by the love bug. It’s scrambled my brain.”

“More like frostbitten.” She grinned at him, conjuring images of the storm she’d trapped him in.

His smile broadened. “You may trap me anytime you want, as long as you promise to warm my extremities.” He paused, letting his face fall into a more serious expression. “Ready.”

She nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Zephyr stepped to her side and her gaze landed on the huge double doors once again. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the knocker. Zephyr squeezed her other hand tight, grounding her with his love.

No matter what happened behind that door with her father, everything was going to be perfect.

Becca Jameson lives in Atlanta, Georgia. When she isn’t writing, she can be found reading, editing, scrapbooking, running, swimming, biking, or taxiing kids. After enjoying several years on the editing side of the business, she decided to give writing a try. Now she can’t stop! And the voices in her head are clamoring to get out faster than she can get them onto “paper”. Becca writes both contemporary romance and paranormal, but there is no telling what she may come up with next.

http://www.beccajameson.com

Étaín wrinkled her nose at Larkin’s too-depictive command, but held her tongue until the three warriors departed. A stiff wind rattled the shingle attached to the shop into which he had disappeared. She hugged her arms, pretended a shiver, and mimicked a sneeze.

Cedilla gave her a sharp inspection. “Rory, run after the cart, and fetch milady’s wool brat. Make haste and return to us. Did I not say ′twas too cold for that summer brat? Your da will have me whipped if you catch a chest chill again.”

“Aye. You had the right of it Cedilla. I should have donned my heavy cloak. Forgive my stubbornness. Look, we are at the baker’s pasty shop and his ovens fair heat the air. Wait here for Rory, while I warm my chilled flesh inside the shop.” When Cedilla frowned down at her, Étaín added, “I will be but an ell away from you and the door is open. I will come to no harm.”

Before her nurse could utter a word, Étaín ducked into the shop. ′Twas here she had seen him these past months, here and on the piers, but never had she dared enter when he was there

Shadows lay heavy in the hut’s corners, but she ventured into the deep darkness drawn by his unique scent, man, the sea, and some arousing, unknown spice.

“Good morn, milady.” The pasty maker’s wife squatted to throw two logs under a brick oven. “What have you this day? Venison or swede pasty?”

“She will have one of each.”

Étaín could not draw a breath when he stepped out of the shadows and into the flickering light of the oil lamp hanging from a rafter. His voice brought to mind an image of the giant oaks found in the Fathomless Forest overlooking Caul Cairlinne, deep timbered, gruff, and compelling.

He wore a raven-blue cloak pinned at his throat by a brass brooch in the shape of some mythical creature with wings, horns, and clawed hands and feet. A beast with ferocious features, yet she felt no timidity, no anxiety. Instead, her heart swelled and galloped fit to burst out of her chest.

She linked her fingers together to stop their violent trembling and gawked at him.

The dark hood concealing his features fell away. He took two great strides to the pasty maker’s counter laden with steaming pies.

Étaín had memorized his face the first time they had stared at each other across the congested quay. The sun had woven its rays into the burnished chestnut of his hair, which fell in waves to the cusps of shoulders too broad to span in one glance. The bump in the middle of his nose spoke of battles long waged.

Dark brows pinched together when he drew coin from a purse and tossed the round metal onto the wooden counter.

The pasty maker’s wife wrapped two pies in a large green leaf and handed them to him.

He spun around.