Page 19 of Primal Snow

“Get off me, you sick freak!” I croak, and my handsfly to his horns, trying to push his head away. They are cool to the touch, rough with tiny ridges that scrape against my palms. But they feel alive, pulsing faintly beneath my fingertips like an extension of him. I shove with all the strength I can muster, desperation surging through me like wildfire.

He roars, the sound predatory, rolling menacingly through the cave, more resonant than thunder. The sound crawls beneath my skin, quickly followed by his teeth scraping my inner thigh. My eyes snap open, my breath hitching. Before I can react, he bites.

The pain is immediate, sharp, and blinding. His teeth sink into my flesh, not deep enough to rip but enough to break the skin. The puncture burns like fire, spreading outward with each throb of my pulse as the blood wells up, hot and thick. A scream rips from my throat, echoing through the cave.

The pain clears the fog in my brain, and rage surges to the surface. “No!” I shout, thrashing beneath him as blood trickles down my leg, the metallic tang reminding me I’m still very much alive.

My fists come alive, swinging wildly, connecting with his furry head. Every punch feels like striking solid rock, but I don’t care. I strike again and again, harder each time, my knuckles burning from the impact, forearms scratch painfully against the points of his horns. My blows are clumsy, fueled by raw hysteria, but they land hard enough to make him falter. The beast jolts back slightly, his slanted eyes widening, as though he’s shocked I dare to fight.

But the surprise vanishes quickly.

He roars again in a deafening, guttural outburst that shakes the walls of the cave and rattles my bones. The force of it silences me for a heartbeat, freezing me in place. Then his claws dig deeper, and I find my voice again, screaming as I hammer my fists against his face.

“Get off! Let me go! Help! Help!”

He snarls, his massive form shifting as he tries to pin me down completely, his claws gripping harder. The razor-sharp tips sink deeper into the hypersensitive flesh of my inner thighs, sending fresh bursts of pain that make me thrash harder. His body looms over mine, heat radiating from him in waves, his muscles taut and trembling with restraint—or lack of it. His long, pointy tongue flicks out again, tasting the blood he’s drawn. The sight of it, dark purple now slick with crimson, makes my stomach turn—a visceral reminder of how far gone he is.

He’s more beast than anything now, his movements frantic, almost frenzied, as he fights to control me. But I won’t stop. I kick, twist, and claw at him, my survival instincts taking over. My nails scrape against the coarse fur on his arms, and my punches land even harder against the solid muscle of his furry chest. I’m probably only hurting myself, but I’m desperate. My body screams in protest as I writhe, every muscle straining to break free.

The beast has had enough.

With a savage growl, he releases my legs and grabs me by the waist. His claws sink into my sides as he hauls me into the air like I weigh nothing. His claws rake against my ribs, His grip is crushing, his strengthincomprehensible.

My feet kick uselessly, my arms dangling as I scream. “No! Stop! I beg you…”

He doesn’t listen.

With brutal force, he hurls me into the iron cage across the cave. My body slams against the damp, mossy wall of the cave, the chilly stone biting into my back before I crumple down. The air leaves my lungs in a painful rush, and I barely register the sharp crack of my skull hitting the ground.

Pain blooms behind my eyes, white-hot and blinding. It spreads like a lightning strike, arcing from the back of my head to the tips of my fingers. My limbs feel heavy, almost numb, as if the impact has stolen all mobility. The cold seeps into my skin and the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth as my vision blurs, and the shadows of the cave seem to stretch and close in.

Through the haze, I see the hulking figure of Yeti standing above me. His black eyes are locked on me, his chest heaving with rage as his annoyed growl rumbles through the cave.

My eyelids fall heavy, my head spins into nausea. There’s some rattling noise, and I feel the cool metal closing around my wrists. The last thing I hear before the blackness takes me again is the sound of the iron door slamming shut.

Chapter 10

The bright light blinds me as I open my eyes. My ears are ringing, but I hear Chase's deep, familiar voice, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Chuckling, he kneels in front of me and digs me out of the snowbank, scooping away the icy weight pinning me. Next, he props me up into a sitting position, and I quickly look around. My snowboard sticks up awkwardly nearby, cold air sears my lungs, and I realize we're deep in the woods on the mountain, where I veered off the slope.

“You banged your head pretty hard on the ice,” he says, noticing my confusion. “Let me check.”He leans in to unclip my helmet.

But before he can, I surge forward and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the world. He stiffens in surprise for half a second before relaxing, his arms circling me in return.

“Hey, babe, you’re okay,” he murmurs against the top of my helmet, his voice low and soothing. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

The words are warm and comforting, but they feel so fragile, so fleeting. Desperate, I pull away to look at him—his goggles are pushed up over his helmet, his ski mask pulled down around his neck, and those striking blue eyes of his lock onto mine. That infuriating, cocky smirk is there, too, tugging at his lips.

I want to say something. To tell him how scared I was. How I thought I’d never see him again. How much I regret waiting so long to go out with him in the first place. To having silly doubts, not letting him in, and being so grumpy most of the time. But the words catch in my throat, sticking like shards of ice.

Then, his face starts to change.

It happens so fast I barely register it. The smirk disappears as his lips part—but no words come out, only gurgles. Thick, dark blood pours from his mouth in a silent scream, streaming down his chin, and dripping onto the pristine snow beneath him.

I watch, paralyzed, as his head lolls to the side, unsupported by the limp neck, and those eyes go dull—once so vibrant, so alive—now hollow, staring at me likeempty voids. His body collapses with a sickening crunch, his torso ripped open, crimson spreading out around him in a vivid, violent bloom across the white powder.

And then, there’s only darkness.

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