Page 6 of A Snowed in Valentine's

She’d brought herself here, and she was still alive. The first step was complete. And now…

Her chest tightened suddenly. The other passengers on Flight 18… had they survived? The protection spell should have worked. But if it had, the plane wouldn’t have crashed. She peered through the storm. There was no sign of anybody else, or the plane for that matter. Had Flight 18 crashed back on Earth? They’d been flying over Nebraska when she’d performed the spell.

Guilt settled on her chest like a ten-ton rock. She couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, her spell had caused the crash. This was all on her.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

She was still scanning her surroundings when a dark shape appeared in her field of vision. Because of the swirling snow, she could barely make out who it was, but she could tell it was a person. As the figure drew closer, heading straight for her, she realized it was a man.

“Hello?” she called, yelling to be heard over the wind.

There was no response. The man drew closer, close enough now that she didn’t have to squint to see him clearly. He was tall, with short brown hair and broad shoulders. A pair of dark eyes stared back at her as if trying to pry her apart from a distance. The man wore a brown coat that dragged in the snow as he walked.

In one hand, he clutched a silver object she didn’t recognize. In the other was a curved blade.

“Witch!” he snarled.

What the hell is—?

Before she could fully process the threat, the man lunged, striking her with his blade. He moved quicker than she could react; the blade swung in a perfect arc, aiming for her neck just above the collarbone. It could have chopped her head clean off.

Instead, the blade simply bounced off her skin.

The man recoiled, his eyes blazing with fury and surprise. Daphne’s eyes were just as wide. She should be dead, but apparently, the protection spell hadn’t worn off yet, not that his attack didn’t hurt her a little.

“You tried to kill me!” she screeched, rubbing her neck.

But this wasn’t Vegas. Back on Earth, an attack like this would already be gaining views on YouTube, and maybe a couple of bystanders would’ve tried to stop the man from stabbing her.

But this was Frost Mountain. And she was pretty sure Earth rules didn’t apply here. On a mountain like this, all she could do was fight for her survival.

“You deserve nothing but death, young witch,” the man said.

“I’m forty-three years old, you jerk!”

The man struck again. This time, she was quicker to react, sidestepping him. He brushed past her, the tip of his sword grazing her arm, and she cried out in pain and surprise. Blood trickled from a cut just above her elbow.

“Oh, crap!” The protection spell had worn off.

A triumphant gleam appeared in her attacker’s eyes. Daphne raised both arms in front of her. She had barely enough energy left, but she had to try something,anything, even if it was another protection spell.

“Tsepm—”

Before she could complete the spell, the man attacked again, this time with the object in his other hand. Daphne had only a split second to think,He’s really quick, before his hand clamped over hers. When he removed it, there was a mark on her wrist. It looked like an ornateK.

He’d marked her.

“Tsepmet!”she cried.

Nothing happened.

“Your magic is bound now, witch,” the man sneered. “You won’t be causing any more trouble here.”

With that, he raised his blade, and the white blanket of snow that surrounded her faded into blackness.

Chapter Two

A Most Unusual Dream

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