Winter Wishes

by Vivian Arend, Vivi Andrews

  Let the storm come. Shane wouldn’t let the cold take her.

  * * *

  The storm hadn’t quite subsided yet, but Shane was ready to move the hell on.

  They’d spent the last day waiting for the snowfall to abate. It hadn’t been so bad at first, plenty warm with them sharing the space inside the truck with minimal trips outside. But the proximity was starting to get to him, and he knew it was making Nadia twitchy too.

  He pushed open the truck door and blinked at the heavy, clouded sky, at the snow that had drifted up around the truck. “Willing to risk it?”

  Sleepy brown eyes squinted out at the vast expanse of white. She shivered and clutched the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “Can we? I don’t—this is beyond my experience.”

  If he went off the road, they might end up having to pack up and hike, something that would dramatically slow their progress. Then again, sitting here wasn’t doing much for that either. “I’ve got double chains on the tires. It’s the best we can do, unless we want to sit here and let the snow pile up around us.”

  That thought clearly alarmed her. “No, I’m willing to risk it.”

  “Okay.” There was no camp to break, no supplies to stow, so Shane slid back into the truck and cranked the engine. “Get your seat belt buckled, and hold on.”

  Nadia obeyed in silence. The seat belt clicked, and she tugged it twice, making sure it was tight against her chest. Only then did she curl her hand around the handhold to her right. “I’m comforted by the knowledge that werewolves have enhanced reflexes.”

  Reflexes that went hand in hand with the rise of the beasts inside them. When that beast slept, so did the speed, strength and agility that came with it. “Yeah, just bear that in mind.”

  The truck didn’t stick, but that turned out to be the least of their problems. Down the hill and around the first curve, Shane heard the buzz of other engines. “Shit.”

  Nadia twisted in the seat, though the camper all but blocked the view behind them. “Is someone else out here?”

  It sounded like snowmobiles, and quite a few of them. “Yeah. Could be nothing.”

  He felt the weight of her gaze. “You don’t believe that.”

  He gave her the truth. “Sometimes gangs roam around after storms, looking for people who got caught up in them.”

  “Oh.” Oddly, it seemed to calm her. “Do they come heavily armed or trust their prey will be helpless?”

  “Both, usually.” Which didn’t mean he couldn’t handle them, especially if she could help. “Can you shoot a gun?”

  “A shotgun or a rifle. I’m better with a knife.” A pause. “Or magic. But if I use too much of it now, I’ll be back to dying on you within a few days.”

  The buzzing grew louder. Either they were just up the road, or they were following in the trees that edged the highway. “I say if you have a choice between dying now or later, always pick later.”

  Nadia nodded. “If it comes down to our lives, I’ll do what I need to do.”

  And so would he. The truck crept around the next bend, and there they were, four men—or hell, maybe women too—dressed in light-colored winter wear, snowmobiles idling beneath them. Shane shifted the truck out of gear and reached for the door handle. “Handgun’s in the glove compartment. Rifle’s in the backseat.”

  As he climbed out, he caught sight of Nadia twisting to reach for the rifle.

  The figure in the lead swung off his snowmobile and tugged down a scarf, revealing a scarred masculine face and cold brown eyes. “Looks like you’re a long way from home. Get caught in the storm?”

  Shane sized them up as he shook his head. “Nope, just passing through.”

  “Not anymore.” He gestured sharply, and the figures flanking him lifted a pair of nasty-looking shotguns. “You take your little lady friend and start walking, and we’ll let you go. You might make the town five miles back if you give it your all.”

  They had him outnumbered, and trying to reason with them would only make them more aggressive. “No.”

  The leader’s eyebrows arched. “So you’d rather we shoot you?”

  “I’d rather you look for your trouble elsewhere.”

  “Your choice, man.”

  Shane saw one of the shotgun barrels swing up, tried to move so the assailant would fire away from the truck and from Nadia inside it. The shot rang out, echoing in the cold—

  —and the snowmobile exploded.

  Fire shot into the air in an unnatural column, seething with angry color. The man who’d taken a shot at him vanished inside the inferno—and it had to be a man, because masculine screams shredded the air as pieces of the snowmobile rained down on the snow in a wide arc.

  Shane hit the ground and rolled to his feet as the leader dived for him. He meant to call out to Nadia, to tell her to get down, but all he could manage was an enraged roar as the anger inside him broke free in a blinding rush.

  The men weren’t going to touch either of them, not if he could help it.

  He swung at the man’s midsection. The snow made his opponent slower, his dodge turning into a stumble. The crack of another shotgun blast—one that came from the direction of the truck—cut through his next roar.

  A second later the other two men leaped at Shane. No way should he have been able to take on all three of them, but he felt like they weren’t even moving, like the earth itself was reaching up to mire them in its energy.

  They couldn’t touch him.

  The first man went down, and Shane caught him with a knee to the face as he fell. The other two struggled to restrain him, but he shook them off and grabbed one. Two quick punches to the solar plexus and Shane’s attacker staggered back, gasping.

  There was no stopping him or the rise of the dark, primal energy that suffused him. Like heat, like…

  Life.

  “Shane!” Nadia’s voice, shouting a frantic warning. A fist flew at his jaw, and he took the blow. It didn’t hurt, only fueled the wildness inside him until his hands shook.

  The third man hit the snow, his thick white parka clutched in one of Shane’s trembling hands; his other balled into a fist and drove into the man’s face, over and over.

  “Shane.” He heard her again, but far away. Through a haze.

  A hand touched his shoulder. Slid down. The fingers that curled around his wrist were strong enough to dig in. “Shane, he’s down.”

  He froze. The only thing that penetrated the fog in his brain was that if he jerked away from her grasp, he could hurt her. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

  “We should leave,” she whispered. “If we don’t, we’ll have to kill all of them.”

  They had no idea if these four were traveling on their own. They could be part of a larger gang, one that had split up to cover more territory. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” She’d pulled off her mittens, and her bare fingers stroked his cheeks. “Are you?”

  “I’m—” Shaking. Barely under control. “I’m fine.”

  “Shane?” Not fear in her voice. Worry. “I’m cold, and walking in the snow is difficult for me. Help me back to the truck, please?”

  Kneeling over an unconscious man in the snow wasn’t helping anyone or anything. Shane stood slowly and brushed the snow from his jacket. The blood from his knuckles. “I’ll carry you. It’s like you said—we need to go before anyone shows up.”

  He picked her up with one arm, so that her feet dangled above the ground. A gasp escaped her, her breath too hot against his cold skin. “I can take care of their snowmobiles. It won’t take much.”

  “It’d probably keep us from having to worry about them.”

  Nadia nodded and lifted one hand, a small furrow appearing between her brows.

  This time, he was close enough to hear the whispered words, something that sounded like an ancient language. Light kindled above her palm, a tiny, flickering ball. She tossed it at the closest snowmobile, and the tread snapped in a flash.

  Magic swirled around
them as she did it twice more, disabling the other snowmobiles, and Shane became painfully aware of the intimacy of their embrace. He forced himself to turn to the truck, open the door and set her on the seat.

  Instead of releasing him, she reached for his bloodied hand. “Either you’re a fierce warrior in your own right, or the werewolf needed a fight.”

  Her dark eyes were filled with an appreciation that shamed him. Shane pulled his hand away. “I’ve never been much of a fighter, so that must be it.”

  Nadia’s hands fell to her lap. After an awkward moment, she turned and tucked her feet into the truck. “We should go.”

  He cursed himself as he slammed her door and stalked around to the other side. It wasn’t her fault he was an animal, and blaming her for being impressed by the few good things the wolf could do for him wasn’t fair.

  Chapter Five

  Shane hated her.

  Oh, Nadia wasn’t so blind as to believe he knew it. The man was drowning in self-loathing, and she suspected that the source could be found in the clothing she wore, clothing that had belonged to a woman so important, he’d kept it with him even when she was not.

  Perhaps she’d left him, unable to accept the violence inside. Perhaps he’d sent her away. In the darkest part of her soul, Nadia felt sure the woman had died—a tragic death that would make a man punish himself by living in lonely solitude.

  However it had happened, Shane clearly despised the parts of himself that were wild—and she’d killed a human. Not in cold blood, perhaps—no, her pulse had pounded in her ears with the first shot, and protective rage had powered the spell. She’d been defending someone she cared for, but she’d killed nonetheless.

  The camper that covered the truck bed afforded her room to sit up, but changing was awkward. Nadia struggled into fresh clothes as she listened to Shane’s footsteps outside, crunching over the snow as he secured things for the evening.

  He opened the door, just a crack—not wide enough to look in, and she realized he knew she’d been changing. “This might be the last night we have to sleep in the truck,” he told her. “We’re about to hit some of the trade routes. There should be stopover cabins, if you’d rather stay in those.”

  Hard to tell if he saw it as an offer for her comfort or a chance to put distance between them. “Will they be warmer?”

  “Most of them have a heating source,” he confirmed.

  Better for her, then, with her energy so decreased by the recklessness of her first attack. Nadia crept down to the edge of the truck and eased the door wider in quiet invitation. “It might be more comfortable for me.”

  Snowflakes had gathered, clinging to his hat, his eyebrows. His eyelashes. “For both of us.”

  An ache spread through her chest. Longing. Not just the rush of lust that came from wanting a man’s touch, but the desire born of wanting a man. She started to reach out but checked the gesture and eased back onto the pallet where they spent their nights. “Of course.”

  “Ready to sleep?”

  “Yes.” Maybe her last night in his arms. Her last night soothed into sleep by his warmth and steady breaths, his body against hers.

  She’d always been a bold woman, confident enough to reach for what she wanted, even if it slipped through her grasp. Lovers had not been plentiful, but she’d had her share and enjoyed them. Her people weren’t raised to be shy about sex.

  Shane made her shy. The gulf between them seemed so vast that reaching for him might end with her tumbling into nothingness, a fall that wouldn’t end. They weren’t from the same world. They were barely the same species.

  Still, when he slid behind her, his arm falling over her waist, she knew he felt it too. The connection, the pull of desire.

  He cleared his throat. “Warm?”

  “I think so.” She lifted her hand to brush his wrist where it rested on her hip. “If more witches had werewolves to curl up with, we might not hate the wintertime so much.”

  He chuckled, and his chest shook against her back. “I think I might be cuddlier than your average werewolf.”

  It was as good a way as any to broach a delicate subject. “And I have more sharp edges than your average witch. I’m not a soft woman. I’ve never been a soft woman.”

  “Because you’re a warrior. Fighters aren’t soft.”

  “Even among our people, some men don’t care for women with hard edges. Women who are willing to kill.”

  He hummed. “I guess, for me, it would depend on why you were willing. If it was about conquest or survival.”

  Nadia traced her fingers higher, over the strong line of his arm. “What about protection?”

  His breathing roughened. “That’s survival, isn’t it?”

  “That’s instinct,” she corrected. “Protecting the people you care about, so fast and so vicious you’re not thinking about it at all.”

  Shane stiffened. “You don’t think what you did earlier bothers me, do you?”

  “Something is bothering you, isn’t it?”

  “It sure the hell isn’t you.”

  Nadia eased onto her back and sought his gaze in the uncertain light. “Would you explain it to me?”

  His jaw was tight. Tense. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Just reach. She touched his cheek. Took her chance. “I protected you. You protected me. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone protect me.”

  His hand came up and wrapped around hers, but he didn’t pull away. “I don’t have limitless self-control, Nadia, but I’m trying.”

  It didn’t seem that way to her. If anything, his control was better than hers. She’d blown up a snowmobile, after all. “You stopped. Those men would have killed you, killed both of us. And you still stopped. You have self-control.”

  “No, I—” He groaned and shifted somehow, rolled so his body loomed over hers. His hand slid under her neck, and he kissed her—hard.

  The air escaped her lungs on a startled gasp. His lips were warm and firm, crushing against hers with so much force, so much need. Her arms were still trapped in the sleeping bag, tangled up so that there was nothing she could do but show her willingness with her parted lips and her hungry moan.

  Shane’s teeth scraped her lower lip, and he growled as he soothed the bite with his tongue. “See? No control left at all.”

  Maybe he would be a wild lover. A hint of the beast wrapped in the control he didn’t credit nearly enough. The thought heated her blood. “A softer woman would need your control, but I don’t.”

  His thumbs brushed her cheeks. “What if I need it?”

  “To hold yourself back from me?”

  He licked her lip again. “To hold myself back, full stop.”

  Every swipe of his tongue tugged at things deep inside her. It made her question come out breathlessly. “Why?”

  He hesitated. “Does it matter?”

  She should say no. The desire throbbing inside her demanded it, desire fanned higher by the hard press of his body. Maybe if she’d been better at holding her tongue, at forming pretty, evasive words, but the truth tumbled out. It always did. “I don’t know if I can lose myself in a man who doesn’t want to be lost in me.”

  He rolled away, cursing when his shoulder slammed into a box. “Getting lost right now is a bad idea for either of us.”

  Nadia dug her teeth into her lip to hold back a protest—or a frustrated curse. Without his bulk pressing down against her, she felt light. Cold. Bereft. Her fault, from start to finish, and she’d managed to turn awkwardness into misery.

  She inched onto her side, giving him her back as she struggled to catch her breath. It didn’t work. “You’re right. I ask for too much.”

  “It’s not about what you’re asking, Nadia.”

  “It is.” If only because she’d asked for the sort of thing that meant forevers and happy endings, not a desperate coupling before an inevitable parting. “That, and everything else.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me.” His words were mu
ffled, as if he had his hands over his face.

  Nadia closed her eyes and concentrated until she knew her voice would sound casual. “I believe our cultures are at odds. We value civilized behavior everywhere except between a woman and her lover. Control is…not my experience.”

  “So what you’re saying is that I’ve insulted you.”

  “No. I’m embarrassed that I asked for parts of you to which I have no right. Parts it would be reckless to share with me, when we are who and what we are.”

  He stayed silent for a long time. “Then that’s it. It’s reckless, and that’s what we need to remember.”

  How helpless it made her feel. How alone. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “Right. That’s settled.” One hand on her shoulder rolled her back, and he loomed over her. “Probably means I shouldn’t kiss you again.”

  In that moment, Shane didn’t look controlled. He looked hungry, and she wanted to be the thing he craved. “Will you?”

  His gaze focused on her mouth. “I shouldn’t, and I know I will. I want you too much.”

  Nadia leaned up and brushed her lips against his. “Enough to not regret me?”

  He closed his teeth on her lower lip. “The only thing I would regret is if I hurt you.”

  Pleasure zipped along her nerves. She liked the feral edge, the hint of danger. The promise a mate was strong enough to be her equal. She found his upper lip with the tip of her tongue and teased him with a quick swipe.

  A growl rose in his chest. “You really do like the thought of making me lose control.”

  Nadia laughed. “A man who can keep his control must not find his partner particularly inspiring.”

  “Oh, is that the way it works?” He bit her jaw. Not so hard it hurt, but still enough to curl her toes and speed her heart.

  A pity the back of the truck provided so little room to move. She tried to lift her hand to his shoulder and bit off a curse when her elbow smashed into a wooden box. “This might test my dexterity.”