Page 109 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

He rubbed a hand over his mouth and muttered. “I’ve noticed.”

Heat blossomed between her legs. Because her body was stupid.

His nostrils flared, and for a second desire arced between them. Then he seemed to shake himself.

“Here.” He removed his jacket and held it out. “Put this on for now. I’ll look for clothing in the bedrooms.”

Arguments huddled in her mind. How could he be so certain no one searched for them? Wasn’t it better to stay in a safe place? At least they had a fire. And there was six feet of hydration sitting outside.

He kept his arm extended, his expression daring her to refuse. Jaw clenched, she set her mug down and took the jacket. Then she raised her arms and let the blanket drop to the ground. She stood proud in the morning light, her chin lifted in a subtle challenge. Cool air touched her skin, and her nipples tightened.

His gaze lingered on her chest. Then he compressed his lips in a thin line and turned away. As he did, a flash of red caught her eye.

“You’re bleeding.” She went toward him, intent on getting a closer look.

He swung around so fast she stopped. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch from that thorn last night.”

Last night? There was far too much blood for a mere scratch. “Shouldn’t you have healed by now?”

“I moved around a lot. It probably reopened.”

“It was just a thorn, though.”

“It’s fine.”

She started toward him again. “Let me take a look.”

His growl bounced off the glass. “NO.”

Shock made her freeze, her heart pounding at the ferocity of his response.

He seemed to reign in his anger, but his voice stayed hard. “I said I’m fine. Now put on the jacket like I asked.”

She opened her mouth, ready to tell him exactly where he could stick his jacket, when he jerked his head toward the doors, his posture rigid.

“Bard, what—”

He motioned for silence, his attention on the snow outside.

She followed his gaze. Then she heard it—a low buzzing sound, as if a giant bee approached. Before she could puzzle it out, two sets of headlights appeared.

Snowmobiles.

Hope surged in her chest. They were getting rescued! She scrambled into the jacket and zipped it to her chin. Then she hovered at his side, excitement bubbling like champagne in her veins. “See? I told you the pack would search for us.”

He didn’t answer. He just stared as the snowmobiles approached, an eerie stillness falling over him.

The little hairs on her nape lifted. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what was wrong but the words died in her mouth.

Deep in her mind, her wolf sat up.

The whine of the snowmobiles’ engines grew louder. Their headlights shone through the glass, bouncing wildly as the vehicles went over ridges in the snow. As they neared, some of her apprehension faded.

“It’s Glenna and Ben Rupert.” But there was a third person seated behind Ben, her hair waving in the wind like a dark flag. “And Sabine.”

Bard rounded on her so fast she jumped. His face was white, his scars drained of color. “How do you know Sabine?”

“I—”

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