Page 23 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

Wind whips around me like invisible claws, and the absolute darkness seems to close in around me as I rush to the door. I'm wearing only what I fell asleep in—jeans, long-sleeved thermal shirt, and socks. No jacket. No shoes. No chance if I don't get back inside.

"Hey!" I slam my fists against the main door, my voice scraped raw by the wind. "Let me in! Open the door!"

Nothing. Of course, nothing. Through the window, I can spot the mud room door is closed—no one will hear me over the storm. I think back on the couch where I'd been sleeping. They must have waited until I was deep under. Two of them to carry me? Oh, I bet they had help from Sarah. Dread coils through me, colder than the wind.

Another gust nearly knocks me off my feet. I hug myself, trying to preserve what little warmth remains, but my clothes are already soaked from the snow. How long before hypothermia sets in? Twenty minutes in these conditions? Less? Knox's story about the Yuki-onna echoes in my head—beautiful and deadly, claiming lost travelers in storms just like this one.

I glance behind me to complete darkness, and I feel exposed and so alone.

"Not like this," I whisper through chattering teeth. "I'm not dying because two Omegas can't handle rejection."

I force my already-numbing feet to move, fighting through knee-deep snow around the cabin's perimeter. Pine branches whip against me, dumping more snow down my back. Each breath feels like swallowing ice.

"Please," I whisper, though I'm not sure who I'm begging—God, the universe, or the snow woman herself. "Please don't let me die like this."

My breath comes in ragged clouds as I stare into the darkness, Knox's story clawing at my mind. The wind whips through the skeletal branches overhead. Something howls from the mountains, or is that a woman's keening cry? Terror slides down my spine as I bolt along the side of the house. My heart pounds against my ribs, and every shadow seems to reach for me.

The first window I find belongs to the back bedroom. Through a gap in the curtains, I can make out the shapes of beds in the darkness. I pound on the glass harder than before.

"Help! Someone wake up!" But my voice and banging on the glass are stolen by the howling storm that rattles the windows.

They don't hear me. They're dead to the world.

My fingers have lost all feeling by the time I find the back door. More pounding, more screaming, more silence. The wind cuts through my wet clothes like knives, and my thoughts are starting to get fuzzy around the edges. Bad sign. Very bad sign.

One more window a few steps away. I just have to try one more window.

I'm so cold I can barely lift my arms to bang on the glass. My legs give out, dropping me into the snow. Ironic, really. I survived my parents, survived Marcus so far, survived everything life threw at me, just to die because of two stupid Omegas.

A hoarse scream rips past my throat, but it's drowned out by the storm.

Through the darkening edges of my vision, light suddenly spills across the snow. A door opens. Warmth. Please be warmth.

"Ruby?" Knox's voice carries pure horror. "Oh God, Ruby!"

Strong arms scoop me up, cradling me against a chest that feels like fire against my frozen skin. I try to speak but my jaw won't work right.

"I've got you," he murmurs, already moving. "When I saw your couch empty, I searched for you through the cabin until I saw movement outside through the back window and came to find you. But I have you now. Just hold on."

We pass through the door into blessed warmth, but I'm shaking so hard, I can barely process where we're going. Upstairs? I didn't know the cabin had stairs.

"C-Cold," I manage.

"I know, sweetheart. I know." His voice carries barely contained fury as he shoulders open another door. He sets me on the edge of a bed piled with blankets.

"We need to get these wet clothes off you. Now." His tone brings no argument from me as I sit there, shaking, struggling to move. "You're in the early stages of hypothermia. We have to get your core temperature up."

I try to grip my shirt, but my fingers won't cooperate. Knox's hands replace mine, stripping each wet layer. There's nothing sexual about it, though in other circumstances, having an Alpha undress me might send my reaction into overdrive. Right now, I can't think past the bone-deep cold.

"Arms up," he instructs, peeling off my soaked shirt. The rest follows quickly—jeans, socks, everything—then he's wrapping me in layers of thick blankets. "Lie down."

I collapse onto the bed, shivers wracking my entire body. Knox slides in next to me, pulling me against him so we're face to face. He's adding another blanket over us both. His body heat seeps into me slowly, painfully, as feeling returns to my extremities.

"F-Found me," I manage after what feels like hours.

"Heard the front door close." His arms tighten around me, his voice rough. "When I saw your couch empty... Fuck, Ruby. Did they hurt you? Besides..."

"J-Just threw me out." Speaking is easier now, though I'm still shaking. "Didn't expect the psycho level of j-jealousy."

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