Page 7 of An Avalanche Hero Christmas

“No, no, no…”

Snow was roaring down the mountain like a giant boulder. Trees and rocks were instantly covered or crushed by the sheer force of the snow. It was an unstoppable mass, and as it neared him, Lance felt his pulse race.

He changed tracks, heading down the mountain, but it was too late. The snow slammed into him with the force of a freight train,knocking him down in an instant. He struggled to get up, but the snow had buried him, flattening him against the earth and plunging him into complete darkness.

Was this the end of him?

He could not see or breathe, and the sheer weight of the snow had pinned him to the ground. He strained with all his might, trying to push his way to the surface, his lungs slowly beginning to ache, but it was slow going. This could not be the way he would die. He had to get out of this somehow.

Feeling a surge of hope no matter how misguided, he pushed his way up. In the calm recesses of his agitated mind, he decided he must be at least seven feet below the surface. It could have been worse.

A moment later, his head burst through the snow, and he sucked in a deep breath before heading for the nearest tree. Two thoughts filled his mind:One, he needed to get to stable ground, andtwo, he’d most definitely lost all his fish.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

But the sinking feeling that spread through his chest was momentary, and as he grabbed at the trunk of a tree that was barely sticking out above the surface, his thoughts flickered to the fae woman. Was she dead?

What about Boris?

She had to be alive. A sudden determination filled his heart; with great effort, he half-waded through the snow, scanning the area for signs of life. It wasn’t long before his gaze landed on a hand sticking up through the snow. That must be the woman. She must have tried to take flight but had only managed to rise a few feet before the avalanche caught her.

Lance pushed himself through the snow until he reached her, grabbing hold of a nearby tree with one hand and the hand of the woman with the other. With a strained grunt, he pulled, and the woman’s body broke through the surface. She was unconscious,that much he could see, as he propped her limp body on his shoulder and staggered through the snow to safer ground.

Then, something moved toward his right. He glanced up just in time to see Boris climbing to the surface. The man moved with apparent ease, easing the snow aside. He looked around like he was trying to get his bearings.

His eyes and Lance’s met. Both men held the gaze for a few seconds. Then, the Fae Hunter turned and retreated in the opposite direction. A moment later, he was simply gone, as though he’d never been there.

Lance let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He heard the rush of the river again, and he headed toward it, grateful when it appeared in view. He set the woman down by the edge. She lay unmoving in the snow, her eyes closed.

Was she dead?

No, not dead. Just unconscious. Her chest still heaved slightly with her breaths. Lance knelt by her side, staring at her inert form. The woman was a rather beautiful sight, with flaming red hair and slender eyebrows that twitched even in her torpid state. She had a slim frame and was dressed in a pair of brown trousers and a flimsy blue top that just barely contained her breasts, much less the rest of her torso. A pink pouch rested on her waist.

But it was the woman’s wings that really drew Lance’s attention. They were gossamer wings, a green and silver pattern spread across their gossamer surface. The tips glowed softly in the setting sun.

Lance swallowed. When was the last time he’d seen a fae woman, let alone one so beautiful?

Leave now,said a voice in his head.You’ve done enough.

The woman’s wings twitched feebly underneath her body, and she stirred. Before Lance could move, her eyes fluttered open.

They were coal-black, he observed.

“What…what happened?” she groaned.

Suddenly, her gaze landed on him, and the grogginess in her eyes was quickly replaced with panic.

“No!” she gasped and immediately tried to get up, landing clumsily back in the snow. “Please!”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Lance assured her, holding up both hands placatingly.

The woman blinked at him for a moment as if assessing the potential threat. Confusion washed over her features. “You…you’re not him.”

“No,” he told her as calmly as he could. “I’m not. That was Boris. He was hunting you.”

“Then you’ve got to help me! Please—he’s going to kill me!”

Chapter Three

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