Frostbitten

by Heather Beck

  From under the water, Anastasia looked up to see Frost peering down at her. Despite her heavy eyes and blurred vision, the expression of panic on his face was crystal clear. Acting fast, he plunged his front leg into the water, but she was too deep for him to reach. Ice chips splattered into the water above, causing Frost to retreat slightly so he wouldn’t fall in.

  In a final attempt to save herself, Anastasia tried to tread water. Unfortunately, it was useless. She could no longer feel her body and even though her mind willed her to keep fighting, it was just too much for her. The current took Anastasia deeper until darkness surrounded her, but somehow she’d found inner peace. She knew that she was dying, and as she closed her eyes one last time, her mind flashed with images of her grandparents, Chloe, her mother, and most vividly, Frost.

  * * *

  The delicious aroma of freshly cooked stew filled the air, slowly easing Anastasia back to consciousness. Gently, her eyes fluttered open to reveal that she was in an old, abandoned log cabin. Although it was a small one room place, the cabin was lined with several long shelves which contained a variety of jars, tools and pots and pans, all on display and neatly categorized. It was an impressive collection that had clearly helped to sustain a family some time ago.

  As Anastasia continued to scan the cabin, noting the dust-covered homemade furniture and numerous strange knickknacks, her focus turned to an old-fashioned fireplace, which was lit and being used to cook the contents of a medium-sized black pot. Frost, in his human form, stood in front of the fireplace, stirring the stew in a tense manner. The whole situation felt so dream-like that Anastasia momentarily wondered if she had indeed died.

  Before Anastasia could call out to Frost, he turned around as if somehow sensing that she’d awakened. Without saying a word, he hurried to her side and then wrapped his arms around her. Frost’s grip on Anastasia was so strong and passionate that he didn’t need to speak; she knew that he couldn’t be more grateful and relieved that she had survived. For several minutes they stayed that way, lying in the bed which Anastasia had somehow found herself in.

  “I’m so sorry,” Frost finally spoke, breaking the embrace only so he could look her in the eyes. “I should’ve heard the water running beneath the ice. I should’ve known that we were walking on top of the Great Rapids.” His voice cracked with overwhelming emotion as he added slowly and angrily, “I should’ve never taken you out here.”

  “There’s no way I can be alive,” Anastasia muttered, even though she hardly felt like she was living. Every inch of her body burned from recovering frostbite and her cold symptoms had only worsened.

  Reaching for her hand, Frost continued to speak in an angry tone. “I went back into the water and wouldn’t leave until you were with me. From the first day I met you, I promised myself that I wouldn’t allow any harm to come to you, either by my own paws or any other force. I’ve let you down, Anastasia, and now you have to return home.”

  “No,” Anastasia protested. “You don’t have the right to make decisions for me. I’m here because I chose to be.”

  “Finding my parents isn’t worth losing you,” Frost practically interrupted. “You’re my only priority.”

  “Shut up, Frost. This isn’t your fault,” Anastasia began to interject. However, she couldn’t finish her sentence as she began to cough harshly. The coughing fit passed, but she was left with an even sorer throat which she tried to ease by gently massaging her neck. Unfortunately, it didn’t help in the least.

  Appearing concerned, Frost quickly stood up and retrieved a bowl which sat upon a small table beside the fire. Using an old bronze ladle, he filled the bowl with stew and then returned to Anastasia’s side. Handing her the bowl and a spoon which matched the ladle, he cast her a stern look.

  “Eat,” Frost instructed. “It’s just rabbit and water, but it’ll make you feel better.”

  “Thanks,” Anastasia said, before sitting up with some difficulty and then taking the bowl and spoon. As she ate the stew, a warm sensation filled her body. With a sudden hunger, she hastily finished her meal. “You hunted,” she commented, smiling at Frost as he watched over her. “It’s delicious.”

  “Then I guess I should eat, too,” Frost said, smiling back at her. It was like he was saying he understood that she accepted him, both as a man and a werewolf.

  “You shouldn’t have started that fire,” Anastasia pointed out, while Frost retrieved stew for himself and began to eat. “Someone might see the smoke.”

  “I found matches, so it kind of seemed like fate. Besides, I needed to dry our clothes and backpacks somehow.”

  Anastasia looked down at herself, finally realizing that she was wearing nothing other than her key pendant necklace and a long plaid shirt which belonged to Frost. She blushed, while thinking about the way she’d ended up in his clothing. Although Anastasia had never been self-conscious about her body, the situation left her feeling a little uncomfortable.

  “So, you think this is your parents’ old cabin,” Anastasia stated, wanting to change the topic.

  “You should get more sleep,” Frost advised, blatantly ignoring her comment likely because the subject was too painful. “I’m still concerned about you.”

  Anastasia looked out the small window to see that it was dark outside. However, it was impossible to tell if night really had fallen or if they were so deep in the woods that sunlight couldn’t penetrate through the surrounding trees. Regardless, Anastasia wondered how long she’d been unconscious.

  “I’ll put this outside to cool,” Frost said, proceeding to pour the remainder of the rabbit stew into a smaller pot which had a lid. “We can have it for breakfast.”

  As Frost passed by Anastasia, he suddenly swayed unsteadily. She hurried to his side, but by that time he had regained his balance. As Anastasia studied Frost, she noticed the beads of sweat that had formed upon his forehead and also the very pale color of his skin. Then, as quickly as his unsteadiness had passed, the sweating and paleness disappeared.

  “Frost, what’s wrong with you?” Anastasia asked with wide, terrified eyes.

  “Please, go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Obediently, Anastasia returned to bed, where she waited anxiously for him. When Frost re-entered the cabin, he said nothing and instead retrieved logs from a woodpile that had likely been stacked by his parents. He then placed them in the fire, creating sparks that looked similar to little red fireflies.

  “Why are you acting so strange?” Anastasia demanded, unable to take the silence any longer.

  After a deep sigh that seemed to release his pent-up anger, Frost sat gently next to Anastasia. “This may have been all for nothing,” he began. “I never get sick, but somehow I’ve caught your cold. I thought I could carry on, but that’s obviously not the case. My senses are blocked – I can’t hear, smell or track like I usually do. I’m useless out here.”

  “You could never be useless,” Anastasia whispered, while placing her hand against his cheek.

  “You’re the only one who seems to believe that,” Frost whispered back.

  Lightly kissing his lips so she wouldn’t turn him into a werewolf, Anastasia guided Frost to lie down on the bed with her. He seemed to relax as they held each other tightly, with Anastasia resting her head upon his chest to hear his heartbeat. Despite everything that had happened today – including almost dying – it now felt like she was in paradise. From the crackling fire which produced a romantic glow to merely lying in bed with Frost, Anastasia knew that she could easily spend forever in this little cabin.

  Sitting up, Frost began to wrap the old quilt around them, but then he stopped to look at her closely. “Is this alright?” he asked seriously.

  “Yes,” Anastasia answered, a little uncertain about what he meant.

  “Good,” Frost said, before settling in for the night. “There’s only one bed, but I don’t want you to think I’d ever take advantage of you – at any point during the day.”

 
Anastasia instantly understood that he wasn’t just talking about sharing a bed but also the fact that he’d undressed her to prevent hypothermia. He was such a gentleman, even when she kind of wished he wouldn’t be. Werewolf or not, Anastasia could now say with the utmost certainty that she’d never met a guy like Frost before.

  “I know,” Anastasia replied, before wriggling in bed until she found the perfect spot in his arms. “Hey, Frost,” she began to ask a few moments later, “have you ever met another werewolf? I mean, you must’ve traveled these woods hundreds of times since your thirteenth birthday. Maybe there are others out there, if not in Cedar Falls Woods, then somewhere.”

  “If there is, I haven’t found them. I’ve spent countless hours researching werewolves, but all I’ve uncovered are fairy tales and reports supported by intangible evidence. Werewolves aren’t supposed to exist, so I don’t know what I expected to find. However, my efforts did lead me to a German newspaper archive from the late eighteen hundreds. I’ve never read about that many werewolf sightings coming from one area – it really struck me as weird.”

  “Maybe you’re on to something,” Anastasia pointed out.

  “Probably not,” Frost replied with a sigh. “The articles sounded sensationalized, and we know how people see what they want to, especially when the idea has already been put into their heads.” He paused to smile at Anastasia and smooth her hair lovingly. “You really should get more sleep.”

  “Yes, doctor,” Anastasia teased, before kissing him goodnight and then closing her eyes.

  It was impossible for Anastasia to know how long she’d been asleep when she awoke to the sound of a howling wolf. For a fleeting moment, she thought that Frost had left the cabin to run in the woods. However, as Anastasia turned to her right, she realized that he was still sleeping beside her. She sat up, listening as the howling continued. It was quieter than before, and soon it disappeared completely.

  “Did you hear that?” Anastasia whispered to Frost. When she didn’t receive a reply, she tugged on his arm. “Frost, wake up,” she hissed in vain.

  A chill swept through Anastasia’s body, likely from a combination of her cold and fear. Even the fire was starting to die, creating a very creepy atmosphere. Shivering, Anastasia lay back down in bed. Although the howling had ceased several minutes ago, the wolf’s sad, desperate call kept replaying in her mind.

  * * *

  Part Eight: Heart of the Beast

  As Frost lay sound asleep, Anastasia crept out of the warm, comfortable bed, careful not to make any noise. She’d been awake for over an hour, and although she should’ve been relishing in the fact that she was lying next to Frost, she was too preoccupied with thoughts of the wolf howls which had haunted her dreams. This time, however, Anastasia knew that those howls weren’t just a figment of her imagination; they’d been real and not too far away. All she needed now was to follow the wolf’s tracks because there was a good chance that it would lead to Frost’s biological parents.

  After putting on her winter clothing and then walking toward the door, Anastasia stopped to cast Frost a quick glance. She wanted him to come with her, but he obviously needed more rest. Besides, her plan required immediate action; she’d have to find the tracks before any snow could conceal them. Once she had found the prints, she’d go back to the cabin and awaken Frost. From there, they’d continue on together. It seemed like a foolproof plan, and Anastasia couldn’t be happier about actually being an asset to their mission.

  Everything was eerily silent and still as Anastasia exited the cabin and made her way throughout the woods. Dawn must have broken some time ago, even though the dark, bleak atmosphere of this tree-laden place made that hard to believe. The only sounds came from Anastasia’s nasally breathing and heavy footsteps, but to her, the thudding inside her head was the noisiest of them all. Not surprisingly, she was getting sicker, and the day’s bitterly cold temperature definitely wouldn’t be helping her to feel better anytime soon. Nevertheless, Anastasia trudged onwards, constantly keeping her eyes on the snow.

  An hour passed, or maybe it was two; either way, the only thing Anastasia could be certain of was that she hadn’t come across any tracks. Finally looking up to stretch her very stiff neck, she gulped as she studied her surroundings. She’d entered a clearing, and as a large cloud moved slowly past the sun, the brightness caused her to squint in response. Anastasia hadn’t meant to search this far afield, and she silently cursed herself for being so foolish.

  Immediately rectifying her mistake, Anastasia turned around and began to follow her own footprints. She tried to hurry, but exhaustion and an ache that penetrated her very bones kept her at a walking pace. Anastasia was weak, and even though she should’ve been freezing by now, she actually felt hot; so hot, in fact, that she contemplated removing her scarf and gloves.

  It’s like an inferno, Anastasia thought in a disoriented manner as she started to break out in a feverish sweat. Suddenly, a strong dizzy spell swept over her, causing the woods to spin wildly with seemingly no stop in sight. Anastasia stumbled to the ground, where she closed her eyes and waited for the dizziness to end. It did cease, but she was left feeling weaker and sweatier than before.

  “Damn,” Anastasia muttered aloud, before slowly standing up to discover that she’d regained her balance. “I guess I should’ve eaten breakfast this morning.” She let out a forced laugh, despite not finding any of this funny. Anastasia knew that she was sick, but she’d been reluctant to admit it because that meant delaying their search for Frost’s parents. Unfortunately, her worsening condition could no longer be ignored.

  “Frost!” Anastasia called as loudly as her sore throat would allow. “Frost, I need you!” She’d begun walking again, but her steps were that much smaller and slower, causing her to doubt that she’d make it back to the cabin by herself. Anastasia just hoped that Frost could somehow hear her distressed calls.

  The sound of paws thudding heavily upon the frozen ground, in an attempt to reach Anastasia as quickly as possible, filled her with relief and even joy. Frost had heard her cries and was coming to save her. She imagined being at the cabin in no time, resting in the soft bed while he nursed her back to health.

  “Frost!” Anastasia shouted, wanting to urge him forward faster. “I’m here, Frost!”

  Anastasia’s plea caused the opposite of her desired effect as the thudding stopped abruptly. Confused and upset, she stood still and listened, but she heard nothing other than her rapid heartbeat. It felt as if everything else in the woods had died, leaving Anastasia completely alone.

  Growl...

  Or maybe Anastasia wasn’t as alone as she’d thought. That growl had come from somewhere in the vicinity, yet as she turned around to carefully scan the area, she saw nothing and no one. Shakily, Anastasia waited for something to happen, but the woods remained deathly quiet and seemingly devoid of any life.

  “Frost?” Anastasia called out weakly, even though she knew that he’d never growl at her, especially in such a menacing tone.

  Suddenly, in the distance appeared a figure so white that it was impossible to identify who – or what – it was. As if emerging from the snowy ground, it proceeded forward at a steady pace, creating a loud, scary thump with each and every step. Although Anastasia still couldn’t tell what she was about to face, she knew with complete certainty that the figure coming toward her was sinister. Its mere presence seemed to cast a forbidding shadow over the clearing, and she’d never experienced such a strong sense of impending doom.

  Slowly, the figure started to come into view, and as it drew closer, terrifying features were revealed. It was a wolf who looked very similar to Frost when he was in his shape-shifted form. He had a large, imposing stature and was covered in white fur which appeared matted and somewhat dirty. Hunched, the wolf moved stealthily, as if constantly on edge and ready to fight at any given moment. In an instant, Anastasia knew that he was a werewolf.

  “What the hell?” Anastasia whispered in a stone-co
ld tone. This wasn’t at all what she’d expected to find, and now she wished that she’d never looked in the first place. If this was indeed a relative of Frost’s, she didn’t want to meet the rest of his family.

  Turning around, Anastasia ran as fast as she could; unfortunately, that wasn’t very quick. Still weak, exhausted and slightly dizzy, she knew that successfully fleeing from the werewolf was highly unlikely, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. As he began to chase her, the familiar sound of his paws thumping upon the ground became louder, causing an almost earthquake-like effect. The werewolf was close – too close.

  Seconds later, a sharp pain shot throughout Anastasia’s body. The werewolf had pounced on her from behind, bringing them both hurtling toward the ground. As if by mere luck, Anastasia avoided being crushed by him, but she knew that she was still in great danger. Fueled by the intense rush of adrenaline that was coursing through her veins, she tried to get up and run. However, the werewolf obviously had other ideas as he leapt on top of Anastasia and pinned her shoulders down. Under the strength of the beast, she screamed in agony and fear.

  Anastasia’s cries were soon overpowered as a ferocious growl sounded nearby. Then the next thing she knew, someone tackled the werewolf hard and fast, releasing her from under his paws in the process. Gasping, Anastasia tried to get out of the way, but the best she could do was shuffle backwards by a few feet. With a combination of terror and astonishment, she watched as Frost, in his shape-shifted form, fought the rogue werewolf. He must have heard her plea for help after all.

  From the way the two werewolves were rolling on the ground, in an attempt to force the other into submission, it was impossible to tell who was the strongest. Simultaneously, they snapped and snarled, while swiping their massive paws at each other’s faces. As the rogue werewolf bit Frost’s shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain, Anastasia winced and looked away. Once again, she felt the emotional pang of being useless to help Frost.