Page 24 of Shadow Bound

The bones in my hands are stiff, frozen, but I keep going until my fingers brush against something soft. Digging even faster. Ransom’s large, tanned hand lays there limply. Focusing my hearing back on his heartbeat, I become aware that it’s slowing.

Just get his head to the surface.

With no time to waste, I intertwine my fingers with his andyankas hard as I can. Ignoring the electric current that shoots up my own arm again, I pull until his body starts to escape the snow. If I had more blood in my system, I wouldn’t be struggling as hard as I am. He would have been out in seconds flat. I keep violently pulling even though I hear the bones in his hand crack from the force. Broken bones will heal, the brain however won’t if it’s deprived of oxygen too long.

Finally, his torso is free and I’m able to see his handsome face again. His lips are almost blue from the cold and his skin that usually feels like a furnace is ice cold. When he doesn’t regain consciousness and his eyes stay closed, I drop to my knees beside him. I hold Ransom’s face between my hands and lightly shake him.

I have no idea how to provide CPR. I’m well versed in how to take a life, but saving a life is still new to me. What if I try and make it worse?

Could it really get worse than this though?

Just as I’m about to lower my mouth to his, to breathe life back into him, his vibrant blue eyes fly open and collide with mine. They’re unfocused at first—confused—but I feel the second he realizes it’s me hovering close to him, my lips just inches away from his. His dark brows furrow and his gaze turns heavy as it takes in my features.

Oh no.

I suck in a surprised breath and jerk back, putting space between us. I push the hair that had fallen into my face behind my ears. “Well don’t just lie there,” I snap, trying my best to keep the emotion from my voice. “We still need to find Sawyer.”

His mood instantly shifts at the mention of his friend, and with speed that shocks me considering he was justunconscious, he climbs to his feet. Ransom sways on his feet and before I can think better of it, I’m reaching out to steady him. My fingers buzz when they land on his chest and side, like I’d just stuck a penny in an outlet.

I yank them away as quick as I can, my eyes darting between them and his eyes. What the fuckisthat?

“Are you going to admit you felt something this time?” Ransom’s voice is hoarse when he speaks. “Or are you going to lie to me again?”

I stuff my hands in my jacket pockets for two reasons. One, so he’ll stop staring at them with a dumb sense of wonder on his face. Two, so I can ease some of the stiffness in my freezing bones before digging up the other one.

My ears pick up on the erratic sound of Sawyer’s heart. “Your friend needs you,” is all I respond with before turning and quickly trekking down the mountainside more, following the sound. Based on where he ended up, Sawyer didn’t make it behind the boulders in time. He got caught up in the snow and tumbled down the mountainside almost a hundred yards.

We work silently, but as fast as possible. Digging and pushing the snow off to the side. We make it down two feet in the snow when the smell hits me like a fucking semitruck. The rich, alluring scent calls to me like heroin calls to an addict. I almost collapse as the hunger pangs wrack my body. A noise must have escaped my throat because Ransom’s head lifts to spear me with a concerned look.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s bleeding.” My voice is like a pained croak. Ransom’s eyes flash with understanding. “Just keep digging.” I wheeze in a breath between my clenched teeth, filling my lungs up, intent on holding my breath for the foreseeable future.

Ransom works faster, knowledge of his friend being hurt spurring him on.

We make it down a few more feet and that’s when the snow stops being white. Instead it’s a crimson red, soaked with Sawyer’s blood. My fangs burn at the sight and my throat suddenly feels like a desert—dry, dying for just a drink. But it’s neverjusta drink with me.

I feel Ransom’s eyes on me periodically as we continue to move the bloody snow out of the way. He’s smart in doing so. I don’t even trust myself.

“I’ve got him!” Ransom announces suddenly, his arms reach deep into the cavern we’d created. “Shit. His arm is totally fucked.”

With shockingly shaky hands, I reach in and help pull the blond shifter out of the snow. Carefully, we ease the unconscious wolf onto his back. And for the first time, I’m seeing the source of all the blood.

Fuckedis an understatement. I take in the shifter’s forearm. The bone has broken and a piece of it is sticking out of the skin. There’s also a nasty gash on his head, blood pours out of it creating a crimson halo in the snow. “That head wound” —my eyes are trained on the blood, unable to look away— “looks bad, Ransom.”

“He’s fine; he’ll be fine,” he quickly reassures, likeI’msomehow the one who needs reassuring. “We just need to stop the bleeding and once we get him to the motel, I’ll just—pop—his arm back into place.” That doesn’t sound like a great idea, but I don’t comment. “We need to control the bleeding first.”

His hands press to the wound on Sawyer’s head. Instantly, his fingers are coated in the blood. I watch as it oozes from between his digits before the drops fall to the snow. I’m mesmerized—captivated by it. Ransom’s sharp curse pulls me from my daze temporarily. We can’t stop the blood with just our hands. Sitting back on my heels, I yank my leather jacket off.

“Not that I don’t appreciate a good strip tease… now isnotthe time. Rain check?”

Never going to happen.

“Shut up, Ransom,” I snap at him as I pull my arms from the sleeves of my black thermal, before removing it completely. In nothing but my black bra, I shift forward, pressing my balled-up shirt to Sawyer’s head. “You said to stop the bleeding and your fingers aren’t cutting it.”

The tunnel vision has started to set in, the only thing I can truly see is the blood. Every inch of my body aches with hunger. I try to swallow, but my parched throat won’t allow it.

Ransom’s blood-covered hands cover mine, the sticky blood transferring to my skin. Startled, I lift my eyes to his for the first time since we pulled Sawyer out. I know what he sees, and I wait for the disgust to mar his features. My eyes have turned crimson with bloodlust and my skin around my eyes has turned a deep purple, almost like bruises. My fangs are also on full display, my lips parted as I pant in pain.

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