Page 6 of Heart of Frost and Scars

She nods, glancing at Kody and me, her lips pressing into a tight line.

Did she just manipulate him to get what she wanted? I don’t know whether to be impressed or pissed off. I don’t want her leading him on for any reason.

We resume our march toward the jet, my heart pounding in my chest, the jealousy gnawing at me.

As we approach the stairs, Monty’s gaze lingers on her, his eyes dark with unspoken emotion. It takes all my willpower to check my temper, to resist the urge to confront him, to reclaim her from his blatant affections.

She’s ours now. We’ll overcome this like everything else. Together. Even if it means sharing her in a way that feels both necessary and impossible.

Our journey is only beginning, and despite the chill of the tarmac beneath our feet, we can only press forward, each step heavy with the burden of what still lies ahead.

Monty boards first, turning back with an extended hand to assist her. Before she can move, Kody steps between them, a flash of defiance flaring in his eyes.

He looks at me, and a wordless agreement passes between us. The cold wind whips around us, carrying the tension of our decision.

Monty goes rigid, setting his jaw. “What’s the problem?”

He’s used to controlling everyone around him, but he’ll quickly learn that he can’t control us.

No amount of fine clothing can smooth out the rugged edges of our souls, shaped by years of survival against harsher elements than these.

“In Sitka, Frankie will share a room with Leo and me,” Kody says clearly, each word deliberate, marking our territory in no uncertain terms.

Monty’s face turns to stone, his hand still outstretched, hanging in the air like an unanswered question.

Awkward.

His expression slowly empties, donning a mask of composure, but the frost in his blue eyes shows his true feelings—cold, cagey, dangerously aggressive.

“There are plenty of bedrooms.” He lowers his hand, too calm. “The guest house has two, and the main estate has five. No one needs to share.”

“We’re not boarding that plane until you agree to the sleeping arrangements.” I take a stance beside Kody, forming a solid front.

“For fuck’s sake. It’s cold out here. We can discuss it in—”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Frankie inches forward, squeezing between us. “You read my journal, Monty. You know I’ve been sharing a bed with them for months, and it’s more than for warmth. It’s comfort. It’s safety. We need to maintain some semblance of what we had. It’s crucial for us during this transition.”

His expression fractures, the image of a composed, controlled man cracking under the agony of what he lost.

His wife, the woman he loves, aligns her comfort and safety with two other men. This isn’t a battle he can win. Nor is it one he can afford to fight right now.

He wants us on that plane.

With a heavy sigh, he slips a hand into his pocket.

“You can sleep wherever you feel most comfortable.” His gaze flits between Kody and me. “I know you don’t trust me. Hell, you probably think I’m the stalker Denver talked about, the one hunting Frankie.” His voice lashes in the wind, his anger breaking through. “Denver put that suspicion into your heads on purpose. He wanted us divided and distracted, warring against one another as the real threat moves in. Don’t team up against me. We’ll be stronger together. I understand I have a long way to go to earn your trust, but until then, give me a chance to right my wrongs and prove myself.”

Frankie peers up at us, seeking our reactions.

Kody ascends the stairs and stands toe-to-toe with him. “We’ll hold you to that. Our priority is Frankie’s safety and happiness.”

“And my priority”—she grabs my hand—“is them.”

“Let’s board then.” Monty oozes confidence, arrogance even, but an undercurrent of defeat rests in the pinch of his mouth, a bitter pill swallowed.

As we climb into the jet, I’m hit by an overwhelming sense of opulence that makes the Turbo Beaver feel like a tin can in comparison. The interior gleams with polished wood and chrome, oversized leather seats inviting us to sink into luxury we’ve never known.

A crisp, clean scent permeates the air, far removed from the musty, fuel-tainted confines of our last desperate flight.

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