Page 83 of Psycho Pack

Whiskey opens his mouth, clearly ready to push for more answers, but Plague cuts him off, clearing his throat.

"It's a long way back to the Chateau," he says, his clinical tone a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere. "We should leave soon if we want to make it before the blizzard completely closes the mountain path."

Plague's words hang in the air, reminding us all of the harsh reality waiting outside our little cave sanctuary. I sigh, nuzzling closer to Wraith. Part of me wants to stay here forever, wrapped in his strong arms, surrounded by my pack.

But Plague is right.

We can't hide here forever.

"Okay," I murmur, reluctantly pulling away from Wraith. His arms tighten around me for just a moment before he lets me go. The loss of his heat makes me shiver.

As I stand, my legs wobble beneath me. The ache between my thighs is a stark reminder of everything we've just done. Wraith is on his feet in an instant, steadying me with those huge, rough, gentle hands. I lean into him gratefully.

The others start getting ready and gathering what little we have. Plague repacks his stolen medical supplies while Whiskey and Thane check over our weapons. Thane is acting borderline traumatized, like he's just seen shit he can never unsee.

Yeah.

I'mdefinitelygoing to be making it up to him.

I take a tentative step, wincing at the soreness that radiates through my core. Wraith growls softly, clearly distressed by my discomfort. Before I can reassure him, he scoops me up in his arms like I weigh nothing.

"Wraith," I start to protest, but he silences me with a nuzzle.

How can I argue with that?

I relax against him, resting my head against his broad shoulder. His familiar leather and forest rain scent wraps around me like a blanket. And to be fair, I won't get far with bare feet.

Or after what Whiskey and Plague just did to me.

"Everyone ready?" Thane calls out, his voice gruff.

A chorus of grunts and nods answers him. With one last glance around the cave that sheltered us, we step out into the frigid early morning air.

Chapter

Thirteen

THANE

What.

The.

Fuck.

Chapter

Fourteen

IVY

The biting snowy air cuts through the borrowed shirts I'm wearing, chilling me to the bone despite Wraith's warmth. I burrow closer against his broad chest, grateful for the shelter of his massive arms as he carries me through the deep snow. Each of his steps sinks halfway up his calves, the pristine white surface deceptively treacherous.

"Watch your footing," Thane calls out from the rear of our group, his voice slightly muffled by the icy wind. "The snow could be hiding shit."

As if to emphasize his point, Whiskey suddenly pitches forward with a startled yelp, disappearing up to his waist in a hidden crevasse. Valek, still unsteady from the lingering drugs in his system, stumbles into him with a slurred curse. For a heart-stopping moment, I'm afraid they'll both go tumbling down the mountainside.

But Thane lunges forward, grabbing Whiskey's shoulder and hauling him up with a grunt. The three of them stand there panting, snow clinging to their bare shoulders and hair.

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