Funny, it was air that knocked me out. My head spun, and I shut my eyes tightly, aware of my body shutting down. Overloaded, the spinning in my brain reached a crescendo before everything went silent and dark.
2
Betha
My head pounded like I’d been on the biggest bender of my life. Bleary eyed, I held out a hand to block the light threatening to blind me and stopped as jagged stabbing pains erupted along my back and arms.
Why can’t I open my eyes? Forcing myself to move my hands again, I wiped at my face, feeling a thin crust on my eyelids. Scrubbing at it until it flaked away, I was finally able to open my eyes and look around.
And shut my eyes again.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “I’m alive.” I did a body check. Toes? Wiggled. Fingers? Wiggled. Arms? Ouch. Legs? I tried to move my legs.
Legs?
The front of the plane had accordioned inward, trapping my legs between the seat and the engine, which was still smoking. A gust of wind was blowing the smoke in my face. I coughed, choking as it filled my lungs. I turned my head to the side, but there was no escaping it.
You didn’t survive a plane crash to die from smoke. I was a strong girl, and I’d been an athlete. I could run through pain and hold my breath for the length of a pool. I could get my legs free if the alternative was death. Bracing my hands against the dashboard, I pushed like I was planking and screamed.
Oh God, Oh God. That hurts like a motherfucker.
I sucked in a breath and choked again. Somehow, I got my arms braced and pushed. There was no give. I was the baloney in a steel bread sandwich. There was no moving, no matter how much I willed it.
Not ready to give up, I pushed one more time. I bit my lip hard. The pain tore through me, and as much as I tried not to, the scream was ripped from my body.
Teeth chattering now, maybe from shock, maybe from the cold blasting through the plane, I wrapped my arms around myself. The door was curved inward, so I focused my attention there. Smoke was filling the cabin, dissipating when the wind blew, but quick to return when it died down.
I needed air.
Turning to the door, I sought the handle to push it open and stopped, shocked.
At the window, wide blue eyes met mine. Those eyes, the most beautiful I’d ever seen, held mine and narrowed. Stunned, I watched the man outside the plane. He turned, yelling something in a language I didn’t know over his shoulder, and then another man joined him.
Had the pilot managed to land us at the airport?
The man who joined him looked so much like the first, they had to be brothers, or else my vision was doubled. Which was a possibility. No wait, they had different coats, brown and gray. Head trauma averted, hopefully.
They seemed to be considering the door while I watched them with all the intelligence of a goldfish.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
He said something, probably, you look like shit. And I nodded. It didn’t matter what the words were, the tone was so calm, so comforting I could feel warmth moving from my toes to the top of my head. Those calm words suddenly came a lot more hurried, and that warmth was starting to get uncomfortable. The second man joined the first, distracting me from the heat.
Oh my God. These guys make me feel tiny. Broad shoulders filled my vision as the second man pushed against the dashboard.
“It won’t work,” I began, before the pressure holding me in place released and I fell forward. Right as I was about to hit the dash, though, the first man caught me, extracting me from the plane and setting me on the ground.
“I’m okay,” I told him when he scanned my body. I lifted my head, staring down to confirm I was, in fact, okay and had all my important bits. Feet. Legs. Torso. Hands. Arms. All there.
Feeling as if my head weighed a million pounds, I let it fall back and studied the man who studied me. He sat back on his heels and skimmed his hands from the top of my head to my neck. His fingers were rough and calloused, and they rasped against my skin in a way that had me shivering. When I did, his eyes flashed to mine, and he gave me a tight-lipped smile.
His eyes were almond-shaped, and his cheekbones were so high, his features seemed carved. Black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck. When the second man joined the first at my side, I saw they were identical, except for a small round scar the second man had over his eyebrow. With one on either side of me, they blotted out the sky, but honestly? There was nothing I’d rather look at than these two.
Over their heads I could make out dark-green pine boughs and blue sky with white smoke curling toward the tops of the trees. “I can get up,” I said again. When I would have pushed myself up, the first man stopped me with a gentle touch on my shoulder.
The second one growled at the first. A low warning sound which made me jump.
“Can you help me?” I asked, and both turned their attention on me. It was quite something, having the full attention of both of these blue-eyed behemoths. I lifted a hand, touching my chest. “Help?”
The two exchanged a glance, and the second man nodded, answering me. His voice was gravelly, raspier than the first’s. It sent a frisson of awareness through me. Both men put their arms beneath me, lifting me off the ground. My arms wound around their shoulders. I swore I could feel their skin through the layers of their clothes—a heat that went through them to me and warmed me as if I’d been standing in front of flames.
As my feet touched the ground, I glanced around frantically for my camera bag. It lay next to the indentation I’d made in the snow. When I bent to pick it up, the blood rushed from my head and I stumbled.
Second didn’t like that. He hooked an arm under my legs, dragged the camera bag into my lap, and muttered at me.
I protested, “I can walk. Just give me a second.”
“Stubborn girl,” he seemed to say.
3
Betha
Second hot guy's arms tightened around me when I pushed against his chest. “Seriously, I can walk.”
He didn't like that, and neither did the first, who stopped his brother. I assumed they were brothers. I mean… they were mirror images.
With a hand on his arm, First Guy began to speak rapidly, with Second adding an irritated rejoinder.
Since whatever language they spoke was incomprehensible to me, I imagined their conversation went something like this:
I'm picking up the chick.
Isn't she heavy?
No. Haven't you noticed I'm a manly man?
Actually, I have. Have you been working out?
I laughed and the two men stared at me in confusion. “Sorry,” I answered. “Go on.” I waved my hand at them. “Keep arguing.”
Second adjusted his grip on me. I sucked in a breath when he tweaked a sore spot. The guys stopped arguing for a moment before First began to point at me, his voice rising until he yelled.
* * *
It felt weird to lounge against the giant man while they argued. Perhaps I could sneak away, give them the chance to fight in private. That pine tree looked like a good place to take a nap.
My eyes opened, and I yelped. In front of me sat an older woman, her blue eyes piercing mine.
“Hello,” I greeted, holding out my hand. “I'm Betha.”
She eyed my hand and then ignored it. As she stood and moved away, I took advantage of being released from her laser glare to examine my surroundings. I was in a bed in a large open room. The mattress beneath me was soft. When I pushed to sit, my hands sunk into it like it was filled with down. Rocking from side to side, I realized it was. I groaned in relief then blushed when a chuckle erupted from the other side of the room.
The woman stood a small ways away, kneading dough on top of the stone countertop. Her attention went back to her task, and I went back to studying the room. Doors on one side made me think there might be separate bedrooms and a bathroom, or perhaps a stairway leading to a second floor. I canted my head to the side, listening for footsteps ab
ove me, but I didn't hear anything.
Was this the main living space? In addition to my bed, there was an alcove with wooden chairs bedecked in heavy cushions. Yellow light flickered over a rough-hewn table big enough to comfortably seat men like those who'd saved me. I counted six giant chairs, all of which reminded me of a fairy tale—Papa Bear chairs.
The entire room was a weird combination of old technology and new. There was clearly electricity, but there were no modern appliances. No refrigerator, no coffee pot. It was like I'd landed in some off-the-grid bed and breakfast.
And the woman's clothes… they were beautiful, but simple. She wore a long, brown skirt, which may have been made of some sort of animal skin, and a beautiful sweater, dyed in shades of indigo. Even with the distance between us, I could see it was all handmade.
Oh God. What if this was a cult? I narrowed my eyes, watching her knead the bread, waiting for her to put roofies in it or something.
Suddenly, she rapped on the window in front of her, calling to someone outside.
I swung my feet off the mattress and pushed myself to stand. Bad idea. The woman spun around to face me, then pointed from me to the bed.
“I'm fine,” I told her. I wanted to be on my feet. Lying down left me at a disadvantage. She strode toward me, pointing to the bed and me again. This close, I realized she was taller than me, but I hoped her age would work in my favor. I could use my weight, because even if she was taller, I was definitely more solid. “No. I'm fine.” I gripped the wooden headboard, just in case what I said wasn't true, and the woman threw her hands up. The frustration in her tone reminded me of First and Second, and I looked around. Where were they?
A blast of cold air answered my question. First and Second kicked the snow off their boots at the door while the woman talked at them. Thrusting a broom at First, who accepted it to sweep the snow out the door, she continued at times pointing at them and other times at me.
Second ignored the woman as he entered, then strode toward me. My mouth went dry, seeing all that muscle and purpose headed my way. My head was clearer now, and I could really take him in.
He was still tall, but inside, with chairs and a table to measure his size against, he was gigantic. He wore the same fur coat, which covered him from shoulders to ankle. It was a rough look, and I found myself wondering if he killed whatever animal he wore. It would make sense, given the rest of this place. He shrugged out of the coat as he walked, and I nearly moaned aloud when his body was on display. His shoulders and arms filled out the shirt he wore beneath it, and I swore to God, he had on buckskins.
Or what I imagined buckskins to be.
Maybe when he got a little closer I could pet him and find out.
Over his shoulder, I caught his brother staring at me, and I blushed even further, as he'd clearly seen my head to toe scan of his twin. Rather than be angry, he smiled. Then, with a move any all-guy review dancer would envy, peeled out of his coat.
Second growled at me, his voice lifting at the end and distracting me from his brother. He was asking me something. Was I hurt? Was I fine? Was I going crazy?
The answer to all these questions was maybe, so I shrugged and scrunched my nose. “I have no idea,” I answered, and he smiled.
Oh hell. He was even more beautiful when he smiled. A dimple appeared in both cheeks, and his eyes lit up. I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep myself from poking them into those dimples. Did First have dimples, too? I peeked at him, but he was busy talking with the woman.
Second began to speak, and I tried to catch the gist of what he was saying, swaying toward him. He even smelled better without the wind whipping his scent away, like snow and pine needles and this indescribable musk I just wanted to roll in. If I was a cat, I'd fall asleep in his shirts. My entire body ached as the scent filled my nose, and I took a step toward him before stopping short.
Second had gone silent, and the smile disappeared from his lips. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply, and then he was touching me. His chest pressed to my chest, hands digging into my back. I twisted a little when he came too close to the bruise on my side, and he immediately stepped away.
“No,” I whimpered. I wanted the heat and the smell back. My world shrunk as his brother appeared at Second's side and, yeah, I went a little crazy. The scent, the delicious overwhelming scent of them, was everywhere, and I had to get closer.
I snagged First's hand, pulling him closer and stood on my tiptoes to bury my face in his neck. The scent was stronger there, and it made my head spin. Lips touched my neck. I glanced over my shoulder to see Second's dark head tucked against me. Off-balance, I stumbled into First, who steadied me by wrapping his hands around my waist. His gaze bore into mine.
I lingered, studying him. Savoring him. I traced his jaw with my hand, amazed at how far I had to reach, and how, despite my height and breadth, he dwarfed me. It was nice to feel small for once.
The door slammed against the interior wall, and then an unfamiliar voice burst out.
I didn't speak whatever language these guys did, but I knew a, “What the fuck?” when I heard it.
4
Fenris
I had to hand it to my brothers. Given an opportunity, they could certainly take advantage. I'd gone hunting for one month. One.
And we'd existed here without interference from the outside world for a millennium, but there they were. And here she was.
A human.
“Fenris,” my mother warned.
I ignored her, not even kicking the snow off my boots before I strode to the twins who'd made my life harder since the moment of their birth.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
My mother slapped her hand against my chest. “Leave it.”
I sucked in a breath to argue and stopped. Oh no. My mother's eyes widened, and then she smiled. It was the most dangerous smile I’d ever seen in my life. In my younger days, it would have made me quake in my boots.
It smelled like summer in here. Like heat, and sunshine, and the forest right before the rain. I closed my eyes, letting the scent wash over me. As one, my brothers turned, blocking the sight of the human from me, but I ignored them. They were big, but I was bigger. And they were two, but I was older, smarter, and a lot faster. Planting one boot on the ground, I leapt up.
My mother cried out, not in fear, but instead calling, “Don't break anything!”
Using my momentum and weight, I knocked aside my brothers, tackling them to the ground. For a blessed second, I saw blonde hair—bright like the sunrise—and a wide-eyed freckled face. My brothers were on their feet in seconds, moving as one. Together they grabbed my arms, dragging me toward the door.
This wasn't what I expected. My goal was to knock them aside and get closer to the human and her mouth-watering scent. To figure out what it was that appealed to me in a way that bypassed all my thoughts and went straight to my desires.
They dumped me unceremoniously in a snowbank, but I was up again and at them.
I had to get inside. It was my only goal.
“Dammit, Fenris!” Grim yelled, pushing me back.
“I got him,” Raynor huffed, his broken voice even more hoarse when he was out of breath.
He has me? Hardly. Putting all my muscle behind it, I tackled them, one arm across each of their chests, and slammed them into the ground. As I reared back, ready to get to my feet, a bucket of freezing water slapped my face.
“Enough.” My mother thrust the bucket into my chest, knocking the air out of me. “Stay outside. I need to clean my house, and I need to do it without worrying you're going to freak the human out.”
“Mor—” I used the name for my mother I hadn’t said since I was a child.
“If you want to make a good impression, give her some space. She doesn't even understand you.”
I stopped, her words piercing the haze of my determination. I didn't want to scare her, and I didn't know why I was acting the way I was. Her scent had clouded my mind
and driven me insane.
“We need her out of here,” I ground out, backing away from the house where temptation lay. “Use the radio. Alert the authorities, and we'll drop her in a clearing far away from here.”
“You can't!” Grim argued, but I held up my hand.
“I'm the eldest. The decision is mine. Something isn't right with her. Get her out.”
Without waiting to hear another word from my brothers or mother, I ran. With the human's scent still teasing my nose, I barreled through the snow, putting as much distance between us as I could.
I made it as far as the rocky shore before I had to stop. As I’d run, things had become clearer. There was no other explanation for my behavior.
I’d scented the human, and I’d had to be closer. I had to see her.
Beneath my skin, my magic hummed. Stripping off my jacket and clothes, I let the frost overwhelm me, covering my skin in a hard layer of white. But the ice didn’t touch my heart. I put my hand over it like I could ease the growing ache, but it was impossible. Now that I’d recognized the human for what she was, I needed to return to her.
Impossible.
I couldn’t. There had never been a human skaoi before. And then there were my brothers. What was happening with the twins? Why would they be so protective of my skaoi?
Unless, she wasn’t mine.
She had to be. There was no other explanation for my behavior.
And yet it couldn’t be.
I would have to deny the bond, deny the pull of my magic to a human who had none. To bond to a human would put all the Jötnar at risk. In this age of technology, when humans had more than telephoto lenses and could transmit their proof of our existence across continents in less than a second, such a bonding was all the more impossible.
So why did my magic quake and twist at the idea of denying what I felt?
The Ice Bride Page 2
