“What have we done? ”
The scream shattered the frozen night, raw and primal, echoing off the buildings until it seemed to come from everywhere at once. Victoria’s breath caught in her throat as ice crystals formed in the air. The Christmas tree in the town square loomed like a shadow, and she pulled her coat tighter against a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
After years of barely enough snow to keep the slopes open, this season had brought storm after storm, each one colder than the last. She knew immediately this was their doing—hers and the pack’s. Her alpha had meddled with forces beyond their understanding, desperate to save their failing resort. And now the scream came again.
“What’s going on? ” a man asked beside her. A human, one of their guests. His face was pale in the strange, diffused light.
Before Victoria could respond, a figure stumbled into view near the Christmas tree, lurching like a wounded animal. A girl. She screamed again, and Victoria’s stomach dropped. Her wolf’s hackles rose.
They’d wanted tourists, wanted their resort to thrive again. But not like this. Edward Carver will rejoice when he hears of this, she thought bitterly. That bastard alpha had been waiting for their pack to falter for years, circling like the predator he was, ready to strike.
Well, it was only a matter of time now. They’d damned themselves trying to save everything. The screaming girl collapsed in the snow, her face white as death. Victoria knelt beside her.
“Are you hurt? What happened? ”
The girl’s eyes were wild, haunted. “It’s Steph,” she whispered through chattering teeth.
“Someone call the police! ” the man shouted to the gathering crowd. Useless. What could human authorities do against the beast they’d unleashed?
“What’s your name? ” Victoria asked. “Jaime,” the girl mumbled dazedly, her eyes begging. “She’s frozen in the cave like ice, like a statue.
”
Victoria’s heart stopped. She needed to keep this girl quiet at all costs. “The lady in white,” the girl gasped, fingers clutching Victoria’s coat. “She took her.
”
Sirens wailed in the distance as Jaime dissolved into sobs. Victoria stared at the mountains looming over them, then turned to the man by her side. Time for damage control. “Poor thing is having hallucinations,” she told him, pointing to the girl.
He nodded immediately. Of course, hallucinations sounded more plausible than the truth. Victoria had to stay strong. All she needed to do was make sure no one believed a word coming out of that witness’s mouth.
Not a single soul could suspect what the girl had seen was real—or else the pack was done for. —
Three years later. “Are you freaking kidding me? ”
Her sister’s shrill voice screeched through the phone, making Jaime wince.
She was tucked in the small back room behind the bar, the only place with a landline. Through the open door, the cozy main room bustled with the usual chatter and clinking glasses. Clients relaxing after a long day on the slopes. The crackling fireplace and twinkling Christmas lights made the polished wood surfaces glow invitingly.
Picture-perfect holiday charm—except for Becca’s voice slicing through her ear. “Stella is so excited to see you. She even made you a present. What am I supposed to tell her?
That her Grinch of an aunt prefers her drunken customers to her own niece? ”
Jaime held back a sigh. Beyond the door, someone cranked up the TV volume. “Look, they’re talking about this resort.
We’re on the news! ” a patron yelled excitedly. “You can tell Stella I’ll visit on her birthday,” Jaime said. “I work at a ski resort, Becca.
Christmas is our busiest season. The tips basically fund my year. ”
On the TV, a reporter stood in front of the resort. “Tragedy struck Pinewoods Ski Resort three years ago when twenty-four-year-old Stephanie Burke went missing.
”
Jaime’s stomach clenched as the broadcast cut to a clip of her younger self, mascara streaked and frantic. Why did they have to replay this particular clip on loop every year? Young adult going missing isn’t very festive. As expected, curious patrons from the bar craned their necks toward the back room, recognizing her.
Jaime focused on Becca’s voice. “Well, here’s an idea,” her sibling snapped. “Get a job near your family. We have plenty of bars here, you know.
Jaime, are you listening to me? You can’t hide at that resort forever. ”
“It’s peaceful, and the mountains are stunning this time of year,” Jaime cut her off firmly. “More stunning than your private suite booked in the Bahamas.
”
“I doubt it. ”
Jaime gritted her teeth. “I didn’t ask you to book me a room. I never said I could come.
”
Rebecca sighed. “This is a family holiday, Jaime. Remember your family? What about Grandpa Joe?
He’s not going to be around forever. ”
At the mention of her grandpa, Steph’s face flashed through Jaime’s mind again. They used to get along great. “Jaime, honey, is that you?
”
Jaime jerked back to the present at the sound of her mom’s voice ringing in her ear. Crap. She must have taken the phone from Becca. “Mom,” Jaime said weakly.
“Didn’t realize you were there, too. ”
“Is everything okay, sweetie? ”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay, Mom? It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
”
“Honey, you don’t have to put up a brave front with me. ” Her mother paused before asking the question Jaime already knew was coming. “Are you still taking your medication? ”
“Yep.
” Jaime kept her voice light. She wasn’t. They made her feel sleepy and even less like herself. Three years of this crap, and she was through.
“I’ve got to run, though,” Jaime said. “Big crowd waiting on their drinks. Love you. ” She hung up before her mom could press further.
Taking a steadying breath, Jaime pasted on a megawatt smile and headed out to face her customers. The bar went quiet, all eyes following her. Behind her, she knew without looking that her younger self was still pleading on repeat. They loved to replay that bit.
Plays on the sensational. A man sitting at the counter—Dave, a ski instructor—went back from staring at the screen to staring at her, mouth gaping. “Oh crap,” he exclaimed drunkenly. “It’s her.
It’s crazy Jaime. ”
She hurriedly grabbed the TV remote, switching channels from the news station to MTV. Mariah Carey’s new Christmas single was playing. Jaime didn’t think it was very good.
By next year, everyone would have forgotten about “All I Want for Christmas Is You. ”
“Did you really see an ice lady freeze your friend? ” Dave asked. Jaime ignored him, thinking of popping one of her meds into her mouth, then remembering she’d flushed them down the toilet.
Steph’s frozen face flashed before her eyes. Not real, Jaime told herself. The whole thing had been a hallucination caused by stress, the cold, and the altitude. Dr.
Goldberg said her mind created the images as a result, and he was right. Still, in her mind, Steph’s dead eyes stared in frozen terror. Always. —
“Edward.
I must say, I was surprised you agreed to meet. ”
Victoria swirled her wine, sitting across from him in the hotel’s lounge. All elegant lines and arctic beauty, much like the luxury resort she was meant to inherit one day. She won’t, though, not if Edward could help it.
This resort will be his. From his corner of the mahogany bar, Edward took in the space through practiced senses. The lounge screamed old-world ski resort luxury. Crystal chandeliers, leather chairs, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the snow-covered mountains.
“You have quite the reputation, Alpha. ” His title rolled off Victoria’s tongue like honey. “They say you’re completely disinterested in finding a mate. ”
Edward took a measured sip of his Bordeaux.
“One must settle down eventually. ”
The lie tasted bitter, but he could hardly tell her the truth. That he was here investigating Jonah’s disappearance, and that he believed she had something to do with it. And that, when he’d figured out what, she’d have no choice but to cede this entire land over to Edward—without him even having to mate with her to achieve it.
Victoria leaned forward slightly, and Edward caught another whiff of that winter-sharp scent she produced in the air. “Owen, my beta, has been rather persistent lately. ” That at least was the truth. It was always a good idea to weave in some truth with your lies.
Something shifted in Victoria’s posture, like a predator adjusting its stance. She waved to the bartender for fresh drinks, her movements suddenly more fluid, more calculated. “In that case,” she held his gaze, heat in her ice-blue eyes, “shall we just get to it tonight? ”
Edward’s lips curled into a smirk.
“Straight to mating? Isn’t that a touch premature? ”
“I would never dare, Alpha. ” Her reply dripped with false modesty.
The bartender set down their fresh glasses. Edward’s nose twitched. Something was off about the wine’s bouquet, but before he could focus on it, Victoria spoke again. “How long are you planning to stay?
I imagine you’ll want to be home for Christmas. ”
Edward waved off the comment. If it wasn’t for the gaudy decorations plastered all over town, he’d have forgotten the holiday entirely. “It’s a long time away,” he said, making Victoria raise an eyebrow.
“It’s in three weeks. ”
“I don’t really celebrate Christmas. ” Edward paused, choosing his next words carefully. “Though I was hoping to run into Jonah while I’m here.
”
Victoria’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He would have loved to see you. Always speaks very fondly of you. ”
A strange shimmer caught Edward’s attention.
The chandelier light reflecting off Victoria’s hair looked almost like falling snow. He blinked, forcing himself back to the conversation. “Fond of me? He always shook in his boots whenever I appeared.
”
“Is that why you were hoping to see him? ” Victoria’s hand slid over his, and Edward found the contact oddly pleasant—which was strange. He usually hated being touched. “You make it sound as though I definitely won’t be seeing him.
” He pulled away, noticing something flicker across Victoria’s face. Surprise, perhaps, at his abruptness. “He’s on holiday. ” There was a new guardedness in her eyes.
Edward found himself inappropriately amused, and he snorted when it occurred to him he couldn’t remember the last time he’d snorted at anything. “With his mate, I presume,” he said, full of mirth. Victoria’s smile turned indulgent. “Of course.
You know how these things are, Alpha. Jonah and Rhea haven’t even been mated for a full year. You couldn’t keep those two apart if you tried. ”
The room felt warm.
The lights of the chandelier bright and hypnotic. Everything seemed softer somehow. Pleasant. Edward found himself sharing her smile, though he wasn’t quite sure why.
“Jonah’s fine,” Victoria said. And Edward thought, Yes, of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be? “You, on the other hand, are looking a bit flushed,” Victoria pursued, making Edward frown.
“Do I? ”
She smiled. It was a cold, calculating smile Edward thought he should be worried about. But it was difficult to worry about anything.
“It’s not like you to be flushed,” Victoria said. “They say you’ve forgotten how to have fun altogether. ” She leaned in, her mouth close to Edward’s ear. “You know what I think?
I think the reason you’re not mated isn’t because you’re picky like you’d like us all to believe. I think it’s because you’re boring. No one wants to spend a lifetime being bored, Edward. ”
He closed his eyes.
Boring? Really? He didn’t think so. He could be interesting, surely, if he tried.
“What was I saying? ” he asked, his tongue feeling oddly heavy. The room had taken on a dreamlike quality. The chandelier lights creating halos that shouldn’t be there.
“That you’d like to take things upstairs. ” Victoria’s foot brushed against his leg under the table. Her scent had changed. Or had it always been this overwhelming?
Edward frowned. He didn’t remember suggesting that at all. “Really? I said that?
”
Victoria nodded, and so he assumed it must be right. His enhanced hearing picked up footsteps approaching, different from the other guests. More purposeful. A hotel clerk appeared, his cologne too sharp against Edward’s sensitized nose.
“Excuse me, Mr. Carver. Your assistant is on the phone for you. He says it’s urgent.
”
Victoria’s hand found his arm. “Take it in my office,” she offered, her smile oddly bright in Edward’s increasingly blurry vision. “More private than the lobby. ”
He thought it was a good idea.
Like everything she’d been saying for the past ten minutes. Except the walk there felt longer than it should. His enhanced hearing picked up Victoria instructing the clerk to direct any other calls to the front desk. Something about that seemed important, but he couldn’t focus enough to understand why.
Her office was all glass and chrome, moonlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. Edward dropped heavily into the leather chair, grabbing the receiver. “What is it? ”
“Sir, I have the Richardson Pack’s new trade agreement.
” Sam’s voice sounded frustrated. “They’re demanding an answer tonight about the timber rights. ” He stopped. “Sir, did you hear what I said?
”
Edward squinted at the ceiling. “Aren’t we all looking for answers? ”
There was a pause on the end of the line. “Sir, are you—are you feeling okay?
”
“Of course. ”
“You sound a little—” Sam cleared his throat audibly. “You sound drunk, sir. ”
Edward would have probably been offended if he had the energy.
“Well, I’m not. Only had two glasses of wine with Viola. ”
“You mean Victoria? ”
“Pretty sure it was Viola,” Edward decided after a beat.
Alarm crept into Sam’s voice. “Where are you exactly? ”
Edward looked around. “Her office.
I think her private office. ”
Sam’s tone sharpened. “Look, Alpha, you need to get out of there now. ”
“You’re the one that called me,” Edward protested sluggishly.
“Look, I’m pretty sure you’ve been drugged. ”
Sam’s voice sounded so very far away. A crystal paperweight on Victoria’s desk captured Edward’s attention. Fractals of light dancing like ice.
“Sir, sir, stop shouting,” Edward mumbled. “You’re in danger. Please, Alpha, run. Jump through a window if you have to.
Just get out. ”
Something in Sam’s tone pierced the fog. Edward’s training kicked in. He needed pain.
Clarity. He slapped himself hard, then grabbed an ornate letter opener from Victoria’s desk, driving it into his thigh. The sharp pain brought a moment of lucidity. Window.
Run. He could do that. The glass exploded around him as he crashed through. Cold air hit him like a slap, snow cushioning his fall.
Edward forced himself up, stumbling away from the hotel. The town lights below beckoned, promising safety. But they swam and blurred before his eyes. That’s when he saw it.
A massive pine tree, twisted and ancient, its branches reaching out like grasping fingers. Something about it seemed wrong. Important. Edward took another step toward it.
And suddenly, the ground wasn’t there anymore. He landed hard in what seemed to be a tunnel. The air here was different. Stale, thick with mold and age.
His wound throbbed, keeping him barely conscious. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, the sound echoing strangely. Then he saw her. A young girl stood in the shadows, unmoving.
Even in his altered state, Edward knew this was wrong. She shouldn’t be here underground alone. “Miss? ” His voice echoed oddly.
She didn’t respond. “Are you all right? ”
He reached for her shoulder. His fingers met something solid and impossibly cold.
The surface was smooth, pristine, like glass. Like ice. The girl was made entirely of ice. Her features frozen in an expression of peaceful surprise, as though she’d been caught mid-breath and crystallized.
—
Jaime hefted the trash bag into the dumpster, the resort twinkling with lights and garlands as far as the eye could see. Pine garlands draped every lamp post and doorway. But Jaime was feeling more Grinchy than Mary. Right about now, her mom was double-checking the packing list for the Bahamas trip while Becca and Mark wrangled an overexcited Stella into bed.
Grandpa Joe was probably stubbornly tinkering with that unfixable camcorder he broke years ago. Deep down, Jaime knew they didn’t really believe her excuses about being needed at work. But the sad truth was, their worried hovering had only gotten more suffocating since the night Steph went missing. Jaime started back toward her bar, boots crunching through the fresh snow.
What she needed was a silent night and a stiff drink. “Excuse me, miss. ”
Jaime whirled around at the unexpected voice. A portly, middle-aged man hurried toward her, waving what looked like a photograph.
“I’m looking for my daughter,” he said breathlessly, thrusting the photo toward Jaime. “Have you seen her by any chance? ”
Schooling her face into a politely neutral expression, Jaime studied the image. It showed a teenage girl with long dark hair smiling shyly at the camera.
“Sorry, I don’t think so. Hope you find her, though. ”
She turned back to the bar, but a clammy hand clamped around her wrist. “Look, I know you were friends with that other girl, Stephanie Burke,” the man said.
“The one who went missing three years ago. Maybe my daughter is with her. If you could just tell me what you saw that night…”
“I already told the police everything. ” Jaime cut him off, wiggling her arm free.
The man’s smile slipped, revealing a flash of something calculating. Unease prickled down Jaime’s spine. “You’re a reporter,” she said as realization dawned. “Not a worried father.
”
“Look, what matters here is that another girl has disappeared from this resort,” the journalist insisted. “That makes three people in three years that we know of, all vanishing without a trace. If you ask me, we’re looking at a serial situation here. ”
“Well, nobody asked you,” Jaime snapped.
“And Steph is fine. She sends me postcards. ”
Sure, those postcards never quite sounded like Steph, and they were always postmarked from places Steph swore she’d never visit. And sure, Jaime hadn’t actually heard or seen her friend since that night.
But everyone swore Steph was fine, and so she must be, right? The reporter opened his mouth to retort when suddenly he was yanked backward by his collar. With a yelp, he went sprawling face-first into a nearby snowbank. “Fuck off!
” slurred a deep voice that sounded like whiskey poured over gravel. Jaime could only gape at the man now standing between her and the sputtering reporter. He was tall—unfairly tall—with dark hair that curled over the collar of what was once a very nice suit before it got drenched in snow. Jaime’s gaze caught on the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw, though it was his eyes that made her breath stutter.
Amber-brown with flecks of gold, currently with pupils so dilated they nearly swallowed the iris. “Thank you,” she ventured. He didn’t seem to hear her, transfixed by the twinkling lights strung along the bar’s roof. “Sir?
” Jaime waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you okay? ”
He swayed alarmingly on his feet, and Jaime moved without thinking, ducking under his arm to steady him. This close, she caught the woody scent of cedar and pine mixing with the fumes of expensive wine.
She assumed he must have had it in copious amounts, seeing how he was blinking down at her. “Who are you? ” His voice was deep and completely confused. “I work at the bar.
” Jaime gestured behind them, trying to remember if she’d served him tonight. She didn’t think so. She definitely would have noticed someone looking like that. Meanwhile, the man squinted, reaching out to boop her nose with one elegant finger.
“Oh,” he slurred, sounding pleased. “You’re not made of ice. ”
“I’m not—what? ” Jaime’s heart skipped.
Did she hear this correctly? But he was already stumbling away, his expensive shoes leaving uneven tracks in the fresh snow. Jaime swallowed hard. It must be a coincidence.
This beautiful drunk man rambling about a frozen girl in a cave. Unless—
She caught up to her mysterious rescuer, grabbing his arm. “Wait, please. Did you see someone made of ice?
Where? ”
He smiled down at her with all the benevolence of one certain of their intellectual superiority. “Your hair looks like fairy lights,” he then declared. Up close, his pupils seemed enormous.
And here Jaime was trying to get information from someone clearly not in their right mind. What an idiot. She needed to book an appointment with Dr. Goldberg about this tomorrow.
Surely she must be relapsing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very small? ” the stranger asked, snapping back her attention. “You’re like a pocket-sized person.
”
Jaime glared. “Well, has anyone ever told you that you’re freakishly tall? Like a—a gorgeous supermodel? ” she retorted lamely.
Her eyes then caught the dark stains on his thigh as they passed under the town square’s massive Christmas tree, and she froze. “Sir. You’re bleeding. ”
“Am I?
” The man looked down with mild interest. “Don’t tell Sam. He gets twitchy. ”
Jaime pinched the bridge of her nose.
She couldn’t leave some tourist wandering around in this state and injured. The man did just rescue her from a journalist. She owed him. “I live just around the corner,” she said, grabbing onto the man’s arm.
“I’ll take a look at that cut. ”
This has nothing to do with caves and frozen women at all, she told herself. Really, she’s just a good Samaritan. “You’re very bossy for someone so small,” the man grumbled, though he allowed himself to be steered toward her apartment.
Jaime guided him up the narrow stairs, one hand firmly on his arm. “I’m practically a doctor,” she promised. “Well, was going to be. Three years of med school counts for something, right?
”
She didn’t know why she was rambling like this. Probably from nerves. Her duplex apartment above the bar was cozy, all exposed wooden beams and warm tones. It wasn’t much, but staff housing was included and beat paying resort town rent prices.
“Sit,” she ordered, pointing to her secondhand couch. The man complied, fascinated by the crocheted throw blanket lying there. “I should warn you,” Jaime muttered, digging through her first aid kit. “I never actually finished med school after Steph’s disappearance.
”
“Disappearance? ” Her guest’s head snapped up, eyes suddenly sharp, and Jaime froze. Has she been tricked? Is he another journalist?
But no—his pupils were blown too wide, his movements too loose. No journalist could fake that level of intoxication. She helped him out of his jacket, trying not to notice how well it fit across his very broad shoulders and failing miserably. “It wasn’t really a disappearance,” she found herself saying, suddenly eager for the distraction.
“She’d just been dumped that night. I made her come out to Spiders. That’s the club up on the slopes, you know. She was crying, drinking too much.
” Her hands shook slightly. “She ran out into the storm. I followed but lost her in the snow. I don’t know how long I was out there.
Probably too long. I remember finding this cave, but…”
The memory hit her. That soft, echoing humming. Steph’s face turning toward her, beautiful and terrible and frozen.
She closed her eyes. She was doing it again. Entertaining her fantasies. “But none of that was real,” she said quickly, more to herself than to him.
“Post-traumatic stress or whatever my therapist called it. I made it all up. And I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. ”
She opened her eyes to find her guest staring at her.
“A cave? ” he mumbled, eyes unfocused. “Poor kid’s probably still in there. ”
Jaime’s breath hitched.
He’s rambling nonsense, she told herself. He’s just confused about what Jaime’s been telling him. “There was humming,” the man said, sounding tired. “A sad song.
”
The first aid kit slipped from Jaime’s fingers. She didn’t mention the humming to him. The melody flooded back. That haunting tune echoing off icy walls, drawing her deeper into the cave that night.
She’d followed it, stumbling through the darkness, calling Steph’s name—
Until she realized she was gripping her guest’s arm too tightly. He looked serious, like he was about to tell her something crucial. Unconsciously, Jaime kneeled closer. “Your place is very small,” the man then declared, slouching deeper into her couch.
Jaime rolled her eyes. “Don’t move,” she ordered, going back to examining his leg. But her determination quickly morphed into confusion. Where the blood-soaked tear had been, there was only smooth skin.
No cut, no scar. Just dried blood. “It’s healed,” she breathed, confused. The man chuckled, warm and low.
“Of course. I stabbed it at least an hour ago. ”
“Wait. ” Jaime frowned, looking up.
“You stabbed your own leg? ”
Their eyes met, and that was when it occurred to Jaime how close she and this stranger were. It had been a while—a long while—since she’d been this close to anyone this attractive. Actually, Jaime was fairly certain she’d never been anywhere near someone this attractive.
Christmas lights from outside cast shadows across his face, highlighting those ridiculous cheekbones. Against her will, her face went hot. “If you’re fine, then you should probably go,” she attempted, her throat feeling dry. Sadly, his smile turned knowing, as if he could read her thoughts.
“Should I? ”
His fingers brushed her jaw, feather-light. And then he leaned in to nuzzle her neck, and Jaime gasped. “What—what are you doing?
” she asked, sounding traitorously breathless. The man’s breath was warm against her skin as he sighed contentedly. “Can I ask you something? ” he slurred, sounding very drunk.
“Do you think—do you think I’m boring? ”
“Oh, definitely not. ” Jaime gulped. She needed to get this man out of her apartment ASAP before she did something truly stupid, like climb him like the well-dressed tree he was.
But his wrists were sliding against her skin in strange, deliberate patterns, and—and she didn’t entirely mind. All right, she kind of liked it a lot. “There,” he said eventually, looking pleased with himself. “You’re safe now.
”
“Safe? ” Jaime snorted. “When was I ever in danger? ”
Her guest sank back into the couch, a soft, lazy grin unfurling across his too-handsome face.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Jaime warned, noticing his eyes drifting closed. “Won’t,” he muttered, promptly doing just that. Instead of shaking him awake, though, she pulled the knit blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over him. Anyone wearing a Rolex surely wasn’t here to rob her.
She might as well get some sleep herself. The adrenaline faded as she brushed her teeth. The night’s encounters replaying in her mind. Her family’s disappointment.
The reporter with his leading questions. And now this man on her couch. This beautiful, bizarre man babbling about a girl frozen in a cave. It was too much.
And Jaime needed to lie down. But she was only halfway to her bedroom when she heard it. Soft humming from the couch. Terror struck, and she froze by the door.
It was the same song. The exact same haunting tune that had led her through the darkness that night, searching for Steph. It must be a coincidence, she told herself, watching the man hum to himself in his sleep. This song probably plays in one of the tourist stores or something.
The melody sent ice down her spine nonetheless, and the uncomfortable pit in her stomach didn’t leave Jaime by the time she settled in bed. Outside, the first fat flakes of snow began to fall, shining like stars against the inky night sky. —
She watched as he stumbled into her hollow beneath the ancient pines. She saw him speak to her newest friend, the girl who cried so prettily before the frost took her.
The girl didn’t answer. They never did once winter claimed them. His blood stained her snow. The scent was different from the others.
Wild and sharp, like pine needles in winter wind. Not human at all. She drifted closer as he collapsed beside the frozen girl, his breath making clouds in her air. Even unconscious, warmth radiated from him like sunlight through ice.
Such strange warmth for one whose heart felt as frozen as her peaks. Most were afraid when they saw her, but this one was already dreaming. Dark lashes against pale cheeks, chest rising and falling like waves against her shoreline. Beautiful in the way storms are beautiful.
But he could not stay. The cold that preserved her friends would kill him, wolf or not. She’d watched too many freeze trying to find them. This one—this one should live.
She gathered him in arms made of snowfall. Gentle as first frost. The great tree in town sparkled like her cavern ceiling. A proper place for him.
The lights painted colors across his face as she laid him down. One last gift before she went. She wrapped winter around him until he stirred, ensuring he’d wake before true cold claimed him. His eyes fluttered, and she became mist and shadow but lingered.
He looked around confused, lost. So much like her, this wolf in man’s clothing. Perhaps. But no.
The cold was rising. Time to return to her quiet caves, to her silent friends who never leave. Still, she watched him longer than she should, wondering why this one felt different. Why his frozen heart called to her own.
—
Edward jolted awake on an unfamiliar couch, assaulted by the scent of cinnamon. He was in a cramped room, a shabby attempt at rustic charm with exposed beams and mismatched furniture that made his inner wolf bristle with confusion. This was decidedly not the five-star suite he’d checked into at the Grants Hotel. Fragments of the previous night filtered back.
Victoria Grant’s predatory smile. The phone call with Sam. Launching himself through a window. His head throbbed as an image surfaced: a girl made entirely of ice reaching for him with crystalline fingers.
The memory was broken by the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Oh, good. You’re awake. ”
His attention snapped to a petite woman watching him from across the room.
Her blonde hair was cut short, and she was wearing what might be the most offensive pajamas he’d ever seen. A shapeless brown monstrosity that somehow managed to be both too big and too small at the same time. Edward was momentarily offended that anyone would dare present themselves to him looking like this. “Who are you?
” he asked, rubbing his temples. “Jaime. ” She snapped, her scent spiking with indignation—spring rain and something citrusy. She looked personally offended by the question.
He assumed she must be part of the Grant’s pack, though there was something off about her scent he couldn’t quite place. But he couldn’t waste any time wondering, given the circumstances. “I need a phone,” he declared. The girl blinked at him.
“You need—excuse me? ”
“Phone,” he repeated, spotting a bedroom behind her. “Is it in there? ”
The girl nodded almost reluctantly.
Edward frowned. Not only did the Grants drug him, they shipped him off to some clueless girl with no etiquette. He sighed, walking toward the room. “Coffee would be appreciated,” he told the girl in passing.
“Black, no sugar. Thank you. ”
He was about to shut the bedroom door in her face and which was flushing rather attractively with outrage when something clicked as he caught another whiff of that peculiar scent. Spring rain, citrus, and human.
Entirely, unmistakably human. How had he not noticed immediately? This girl wasn’t a shifter. There was something else—something familiar.
His own scent wrapped intimately around hers. He realized in dawning horror: this girl isn’t a shifter, but she smells like one. Because a memory surfaced. Her kneeling before him, concerned eyes meeting his.
And Edward deciding she should carry his scent. He’d run his wrists over her skin, marking her. Edward nearly recoiled. He’d scent-marked an unwitting human woman.
This wasn’t a situation he had ever faced before, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Should he apologize? Humans didn’t understand scent-marking, and the girl probably didn’t feel as offended as she ought to be. But she was watching him, her storm-gray eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Where exactly are we? ” he asked, dreading the answer. “Are you even part of the local pack? ”
“The what?
” The girl blinked, and uneasiness increased sharply in Edward’s mind. “You brought me here, did you not? ” he insisted with a frown. “Surely you must know who I am.
”
The girl was now looking at him like Edward wasn’t entirely right in the head. “And how the heck should I know? Are you some sort of celebrity or something? ”
This girl has no idea who she is, Edward realized.
Meaning not only was she not a shifter, but she probably didn’t even work for the Grants at all. All of their hotel staff—even humans with no idea what shifters or alphas were—had at least been briefed on the fact that Edward was an important guest. “Then why the heck have you brought me back to your home? ” he exclaimed, appalled.
“I’m asking myself the same thing,” the girl muttered, crossing her arms. “Unbelievable. ” The girl was a puny human unable to defend herself, and yet she’d still brought him back here. “Have you got no common sense?
What if I were a dangerous criminal? ”
“Are you? ” the girl argued, making him gape. “Well, no,” he conceded, “but that is hardly the point.
”
The human stomped her foot in annoyance. “You know, a simple thank you would have sufficed. ”
Edward’s lips twitched. He was tempted to remind this girl she couldn’t speak to him like this.
Except, being an unknowing human, she had no idea how to address him, so it wouldn’t be very reasonable of him. “Look,” he said, rubbing his temples. “I’m just trying to understand what I’m doing here exactly. ”
Jaime hesitated, her scent spiking with awkwardness.
“Last night I was harassed by a journalist,” she explained. “What? ” Edward frowned. “Why?
”
“Will you let me finish? ” Jaime snapped, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Anyway, you helped me get rid of him, so it didn’t feel right leaving you after that, completely disoriented. ”
“I was not completely disoriented,” Edward denied, even though he didn’t remember what he’d been like in the least.
Jaime’s face indicated she was well aware of that. “You didn’t have to help me, but you did,” she mumbled quietly. “That was—uh—very kind of you. I just wanted to return the favor.
”
Edward blinked. No one had ever called him kind in his entire life, because he wasn’t. “I’m not kind,” he said, walking into Jaime’s room to get to the phone. “And what you did was foolish.
”
“Well, please try not to choke on your appreciation,” Jaime called out behind him, making Edward smirk. “How about that coffee, sweetheart? ” He shut the door on her indignant expression, catching her muttered “pretentious ass” with his enhanced hearing. He found himself fighting back an amused smile as he pulled up Owen’s number.
He moved to the window, where fresh snow drifted against the glass, his nose wrinkling at the lingering scent of stale beer and fried food wafting up from the bar below. The Grants Resort loomed above them on the mountainside, pristine and expensive—exactly where he should be right now instead of in this tiny apartment. “It’s me,” he announced, catching his own reflection in the window. His usually immaculate suit was wrinkled beyond salvation.
Wonderful. “Oh, thank—” Owen’s relief crackled through the line. “Sam’s gone off his wits’ end, claiming you’ve been captured and that the Grants set a trap for you and we should go and rescue you. ”
“Well, he isn’t entirely wrong.
” Edward snorted, tracing a finger along the frosted window pane, remembering crystalline fingers reaching for him. “Something happened last night, and I think it had everything to do with the Grants. ”
“Sam’s on his way over. ” The sound of paper shuffling came through the line.
“Richard claims you disappeared last night, though he didn’t seem particularly worried. Your PA certainly was. ”
Edward’s jaw clenched. Richard Grant’s lack of concern was telling.
“Anyway, when are you coming home? ” Owen said. “We need to plan for the merger. ”
The scent of coffee reached him, rich and dark.
At least the human knew how to brew properly. “I can’t come home,” Edward said, tracking Jaime’s movements by sound as she puttered in the kitchen. “Jonah’s still missing. Victoria claims he’s on holidays, but that’s a load of crap.
And there’s also the small matter of her drugging me. ”
“She drugged you? ” Owen’s growl reverberated through the phone. “Alpha, that’s cause for war.
”
Edward rolled his eyes, catching another glimpse of Jaime through the bedroom doorway. She was measuring coffee with precise movements, her awful pajamas riding up to reveal surprisingly shapely legs. “Let’s not be dramatic,” Edward said as he forced his attention back to the window. “I don’t think they meant to make me disappear.
Probably just to distract me. ”
“From what? ”
“That’s what I’d like to find out. ” Edward rubbed his temples, trying to separate drug-induced hallucinations from reality.
The ice girl had seemed so real. “Well, whatever it is, the Grants aren’t going to just let you stick around. ” Papers rustled again. “They claim if you’re not intent on courting Victoria properly, they’d like you off their territory by sundown.
”
The wolf in Edward bristled at the threat, a low growl building in his chest. “We can’t leave things be when Jonah’s missing. ”
“We don’t know that he’s missing,” Owen replied, his shrug audible. “And he chose to leave our pack to be with his mate.
Not our problem. ”
“He’s Sam’s brother,” Edward protested, annoyed. “You’re too soft on the pup,” Owen observed. Edward rolled his eyes.
“He’s not a pup. ”
“Exactly. ” Owen’s tone turned sly. “Stop coddling him, and maybe get one of your own.
And a mate with that. ”
“Not this again,” Edward sighed. “You need to settle down, Alpha. Secure the pack.
Provide an heir. ”
“Well, as long as it’s not with Victoria Grant. ” He grimaced at the lingering scent of whatever they’d drugged him with. “I would at least like to be fully conscious when I do take a mate.
”
“You joke, Alpha, but you may need to get back to courting her if you want to stick around. They’re not stupid. They know you’re here for a reason. ” Owen’s voice turned serious.
“And they’re bound to become more paranoid after last night. ”
Edward’s spine straightened. “Wait, did something happen? ”
“You mean on top of them drugging you?
”
“Yes, actually. ”
“While we still don’t know if something did happen to Jonah, someone did go missing from the Grants Resort. ” A pause. “A human girl.
”
“Not our problem. ”
The image of ice-blue fingers flashed through his mind again. “If all the disappearances are somehow linked to the Grants, which is likely, how is that not our problem? ” Edward snapped, indignant.
“Do you want the human authorities to come sniffing around shifter business? ”
Owen was quiet for a moment. “How do you know it’s linked to them, though? ” he challenged.
“Because otherwise, they would have asked for our help, obviously,” Edward snapped. “I’ll call you back with an address for Sam,” he said abruptly. “Give me a moment. ”
He ended the call, his enhanced hearing picking up the low murmur of television news from the other room.
When he emerged, Jaime was standing frozen before the TV, coffee pot forgotten in her hands. Her scent had turned sharp with anxiety. “Natalie Sawyer has last been seen two days ago with her parents,” the news anchor announced. “The Sawyer family had been staying at the local Pinewood Resort—the same resort from which two people have gone missing in the last two years.
”
Edward cautiously approached, clearing his throat. “A teenager has gone missing,” Jaime whispered, eyes fixed on the screen. In other circumstances, Edward might have been concerned with how pale she looked. But as it was, his attention was focused on the screen.
Because they were broadcasting the missing teen’s picture—and Edward had seen her before. In fact, he’d seen her last night. Frozen in ice in a cave. He was sure of it.
—
Jaime couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. Natalie Sawyer smiled at the camera, dark hair in neat braids, alive, warm, unfrozen. The image flickered, and for a moment it was Steph’s face instead, with that goofy grin she always wore in photos. Her hand trembled around Steph’s latest postcard from Miami.
Having a blast. Miss you. The handwriting was neat. Careful.
Nothing like Steph’s usual chaotic scrawl. Jaime had been telling herself the difference didn’t mean anything. Just like she’d been telling herself that Jeff, the ski instructor who vanished last season, really did just take off without notice. There’s no pattern, her therapist had insisted.
Sometimes people just leave. But now a teenager was missing. The sound of running water filtered down from upstairs—her mysterious guest helping himself to her shower without so much as offering his name. She should probably be more concerned about having a stranger in her apartment, but she couldn’t focus on anything except Natalie’s face on the screen.
Fifteen years old. Last seen walking back to her hotel room at the resort. Just like Steph, who’d stormed out of Spiders into the snow. Just like Jeff, who’d gone for a late-night ski run and never came back.
Loud banging on her door from downstairs snapped her attention, and reluctantly she headed down to check who it could be. The bar didn’t open before twelve. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be another journalist. As she climbed down the stairs to the barfront, though, it turned out to be much, much worse.
“I told you fools we should give Jaime a heads-up. Who knows if she’s even home? ”
Jaime froze in her tracks and gaped. Is that her grandpa?
She heard. Surely not. Surely this was another one of her auditory hallucinations, like the night she’d followed humming to the imaginary ice cave. “No way,” Becca’s voice replied.
“She would have told us not to come, and you know it. ”
Oh my god, Jaime yelped internally. Her sister is here too. How?
Why? She’s supposed to be in the Bahamas. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, baby,” her mother’s voice admonished. That was when Jaime’s gaze met a pair of big gray eyes that looked a lot like her own behind the front window pane.
They widened in excitement on the small face they belonged to—a face which expanded into an excited grin. “Aunt Jamie! ” Stella, her six-year-old niece, waved excitedly at her from outside. Jaime found herself waving back weakly as her mother’s face appeared by Stella’s side.
“Honey, there you are,” she exclaimed, sounding extremely relieved to find Jaime alive. “Open up. ”
She obeyed, hurriedly unlocking her front door and suddenly coming face to face with the full Matthews family crisis response team assembled on her snow-dusted front porch. Her mother stood front and center, still wearing her vacation clothes—a bright floral dress jarringly out of place against the gray winter morning.
Behind her, Grandpa Joe leaned on his cane, grinning like a maniac, his retired Ranger jacket pulled hastily over a Hawaiian shirt. Rebecca, perfectly put together even in an emergency, had one manicured hand wrapped around six-year-old Stella’s mitten fingers, while Mark hovered awkwardly behind them in his usual peacekeeper position. “Start caroling! ” Stella screeched before launching into an off-tune rendition of Jingle Bells.
Only her father attempted to follow along while giving Jaime a sheepish smile. “What are you all doing here? ” Jaime asked, hurriedly ushering her family inside. Grandpa Joe’s kiss landed warm on her cheek as he passed.
“If you won’t come to the Bahamas, the Bahamas will come to you. ” He winked, his eyes crinkling with the same mischief that always made him her favorite conspirator. Her mother paused to squeeze her shoulder, and Jaime tried not to flinch at the familiar weight of concern in her touch. “What Grandpa means is that we all took time off work to be together as a family, and that includes you,” Becca said.
“So we’d rather be here than on the beach. ”
Jaime watched her family scatter around her space. Stella immediately gravitating to the jukebox, Mark examining the craft beer taps, Rebecca’s finger running along the bar top as if checking for dust. The morning sun caught on her diamond ring, and Jaime unconsciously tugged at her worn sweater.
“You are happy to see us, aren’t you? ” Rebecca’s challenge cut through her thoughts, her sister’s sharp eyes missing nothing. “Of course,” Jaime said, forcing brightness into her voice as she moved to hug each of them in turn. Her mother held on a beat too long.
“We’ll be staying with you if that’s all right,” she asked. Jaime pretended not to notice the wetness in her eyes. “Unless you’d prefer us to go to the hotel,” Becca chimed in, making her refrain from rolling her eyes. “Let’s go upstairs,” Jaime diverted, gesturing toward the staircase.
“I’ll make you guys some breakfast. ”
The wooden steps creaked under their collective weight as they trudged upwards, luggage bumping against the walls. Jaime’s duplex apartment, which had always felt much too big, suddenly felt suffocating. “What’s that on the news?
” Mark’s question cut through her rising panic. His lawyer’s attention to detail never missed anything. The TV still flashed Natalie’s photo, and Jaime lunged for the remote, but she was too late. Her mother’s face drained of color, crow’s feet deepening around her eyes.
“Is somebody missing? ” The tremor in her voice made Jaime’s chest ache. Rebecca cut in before Jaime could reply. “Don’t tell me this is why you didn’t want to leave,” she asked, shoulders tense.
“Because of some random disappearance. ”
Jaime’s nails dug into her palms. There it was. That familiar mix of concern and judgment in their eyes, like they were all waiting for her to snap.
“All right, let’s just calm down,” Grandpa Joe’s weathered hands rose in a peacekeeping gesture, but her mother barreled on. “Honey, I told you staying at this station wasn’t a good idea. ” Her voice dripped with that special brand of maternal worry. “How can you get better when you’re surrounded by reminders?
”
“I am better! ” The words burst out sharper than intended. “Look, I didn’t decide to stay here because of the missing girl. All right, this news just came up this morning.
How could I have known? ”
Silence descended, heavy and awkward. Only Stella’s off-key humming broke it. That, and the sudden damning sound of running water from the bathroom—all too obvious when no one was talking.
“Aunt Jamie. ” Stella piped up, swinging her legs from her perch on the arm of the couch. “Why is your shower on? ”
Jaime, lost in thought on how to handle her family during this impromptu Christmas vacation, was momentarily stunned by the question.
She didn’t remember turning on her shower. It suddenly hit her that it was because she hadn’t—and sharp panic rose in her chest. Oh, God. The man.
She’d completely forgotten about him. Before Jaime could even formulate a response, Rebecca’s hawk-like gaze zeroed in on the Italian leather shoes by the couch. Her eyes widened, darting between the shoes and Jaime’s rapidly reddening face. “Do you have someone over?
” The question hung in the air like a soap bubble about to pop. “No, I don’t. ” Jaime’s voice rose an octave. “Then what is this?
” Grandpa Joe asked, waving a tailored jacket that probably cost more than Jaime’s monthly rent. Jaime snatched it back with a shriek. “Grandpa! ” Her mind raced.
How did she explain harboring a complete stranger for the night? Her mom was bound to think she’d completely lost it. Even her unwanted guest himself had been confused as to why Jaime would ever let him stay over in the first place. “Jaime.
” Her mother’s voice had changed, taking on a breathless quality that made Jaime’s stomach drop. What’s up with that tone? Is her mother having an aneurysm? Jaime looked up to find her eyes shining with an almost manic hope.
“Baby,” she whispered. “Do you have a boyfriend? ”
What the—Jaime’s heart plummets. “Is that why you didn’t want to come on the family holiday with us?
” her mother insisted. “Because you wanted to spend the holidays with your new boyfriend? ” She sounded so happy, you’d think Jaime had just announced an engagement. “Oh.
” Grandpa Joe’s eyebrows danced suggestively. “Must be serious. ”
“Guys,” Jaime protested weakly. “This isn’t—it’s not—”
The bathroom door opened with a rush of steam, and time seemed to slow down.
A second later, her mystery guest stood in the doorway, his dark hair tousled from the shower, making him look younger, almost boyish—if you ignored the powerful set of his shoulders and the aristocratic angle of his jaw. Water droplets trailed down abs that looked like they were carved from marble. And his towel was slung so low on his hips it should be illegal. Jaime didn’t dare look away, in a mix of awe and absolute mortification.
“Do you have any spare clothes? ” he asked casually, then blinked at her frozen family like a king surprised to find peasants in his castle. “Hello,” he added, managing to sound both polite and amused. “Nope.
Nope. This just won’t do. ” Jaime grabbed his arm, trying very hard not to notice the warm, damp skin under her fingers, and yanked him back into the bathroom. “No way that’s her boyfriend,” she heard Rebecca whisper to Mark as she closed the door.
“He’s way too hot for her. ”
—
Steam clouded the bathroom mirror as Edward braced his hands against the sink, organizing his thoughts. The hot water had cleared his head somewhat, though his enhanced metabolism was still working through whatever Victoria slipped him. Two confirmed disappearances on Grant territory: the teenager from last night, and Jonah.
His wolf bristled at the thought. Jonah might have left his pack, but he was still Edward’s responsibility. And now there were whispers of others—a ski instructor, a tourist. The Grants’ silence on the matter spoke volumes.
No alerts to neighboring packs, no requests for assistance, not even an acknowledgement of the problem. Edward’s reflection slowly emerged through the condensation. Territory is everything to wolves. Nothing happens in an alpha’s domain without their knowledge.
If the Grants weren’t asking for help, it was because they already knew what was happening. Victoria’s attempt to drug and compromise him made more sense in this light—a clumsy effort to force his pack off their land before he could dig deeper. Then there was the matter of the cave. Edward closed his eyes, trying to separate drug-induced hallucinations from reality.
The girl in the ice had seemed so real, her features perfectly preserved in crystal like a macabre sculpture. He needed to find that cave again, preferably while fully conscious. But first, he needed an excuse to stay. The Grants wanted him gone by sundown.
And investigating their potentially criminal activities wouldn’t exactly smooth things over between their packs. He dried off, grimacing at his ruined suit. The jacket was salvageable, but the pants were a lost cause between the blood and snow. He’d need something to wear until Sam arrived with fresh clothes.
Edward opened the bathroom door, intending to ask his reluctant hostess for spare clothing. Instead, he found himself facing what appeared to be an entire family crammed into the tiny apartment. His enhanced senses picked up their collective spike of surprise and—appreciation, if he was reading their scents correctly. They all shared Jaime’s coloring, that striking mix of dark blonde hair and storm-grey eyes, except for one dark-haired man who stood slightly apart, clearly an in-law.
A child peered around her mother’s legs with undisguised curiosity. Edward’s brain, still slightly fuzzy, attempted to process this development. He was relatively certain these people weren’t here when he got in the shower. Unless Victoria’s drugs were more persistent than he thought.
“Do you have any spare clothes? ” he asked Jaime, whose face had turned an interesting shade of pink. Her scent was a riot of embarrassment, anxiety, and something else that made his wolf perk up with interest. “Hello,” he added, because his mother raised him with manners, even if she didn’t anticipate this exact scenario.
Jaime moved faster than he would have expected, small hands surprisingly strong as she dragged him back into the bathroom. The last thing he saw before the door closed was the older woman’s expression of delighted shock, while the younger one whispered not-so-discreetly into her husband’s ear, “No way that’s her boyfriend. He’s way too hot for her. ”
Edward furrowed his brows in confusion at the word boyfriend.
Jaime’s determined expression crumpled the moment the bathroom door closed behind them. Her eyes kept darting between his face and chest, mouth opening and closing without sound. “You wanted a word? ” Edward prompted, partly to end her obvious discomfort, but also because his wolf was pining at her obvious appreciation, and it was a little ridiculous.
Jaime awkwardly cleared her throat. “Yes, well. ” She settled her gaze on a point over Edward’s shoulder. The latter belatedly realized that while nudity meant little to shifters, humans tended to be more sensitive about such things.
Jaime wasn’t just embarrassed, though. Her scent was sweetening slightly as her eyes roamed back and forth between Edward’s eyes and his chest. He silently berated himself for how pleased it made him feel. He had much more important things to think about than how her pulse quickened when he shifted his weight.
“I have a request,” the human managed. “Oh? ” He instantly encouraged as Jaime took a breath. “Would you mind pretending to be my boyfriend?
” she blurted, meeting his eyes. “For a—for a bit. ”
“What? ” The question caught him completely off-guard.
It didn’t help that her pretty blush was deepening, grey eyes still struggling to find a safe place to land. “Just to get them off my back,” she backpedaled at his expression. “A couple days at most. No, hours.
Half an hour. ”
Edward opened his mouth to protest, but she didn’t let him. “You just need to shake a few hands, lie about our first date, and then we’ll be out of here. I’ll tell them you had to go away for work, and you never have to see them again.
How’s that? ”
How’s that? Edward thought that was insane and out of the question. He had missing persons to find, a potentially criminal alpha family to investigate, and a frozen cave to locate, amongst other things.
So his first instinct was to dismiss the idea entirely. But then—wait a minute. This could work out in his favor. A relationship with a local would give him the cover he’d been looking for.
The Grants couldn’t possibly object to him staying in town to court someone. And Jaime being human, unconnected to pack politics, would seem perfectly innocent. “I’ll do it,” he said just as Jaime started stammering apologies. “No, of course you’re right.
It’s so stupid—wait, what? ” She stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend,” Edward confirmed with a solemn nod. Yes, he thought, the plan could work.
He wouldn’t just say he was dating her, though. That wouldn’t be good enough. After all, he just met Jaime. Nobody would think it a credible enough excuse.
No, he’d claim the human was his fated mate. That would justify his supposed urgency to stay near her. Yes, no wolf would ever think to question another’s fated mate bond. These things were sacred.
Plus, Jaime wouldn’t even care since she was human. It was brilliant. “Why would you do that? ” The girl’s throat bobbed nervously.
“You know, we wouldn’t—I mean, nothing would happen for real, right? ”
Her obvious distress made him a little ashamed—right. He was going to have to tell her something if he wanted this to work. “To be honest, it would actually help me as well if—” he began, but a knock at the door interrupted.
“Jaime. ” Her sister’s voice filtered through. “Are you planning on hiding in here forever? ”
Edward caught Jaime’s scent spike with panic and found himself oddly torn between amusement at her predicament and guilt at using her situation for his investigation.
“Let’s go,” he told her, grabbing onto her hand. “What are you doing? ” Jaime yelped, panicked. She pulled back on his hand, pointing to Edward’s discarded clothes.
“Get dressed,” she hissed. “You’re not meeting my family half-naked again. ”
“But my pants are torn,” Edward replied in what he felt was a very reasonable manner. Given the look he received from Jaime, though, she didn’t seem to think so.
—
The morning sun turned the fresh snow into a field of diamonds, dazzling against the cloudless sky. Jaime sneaked a glance at Edward as they approached the chairlift station. Even in his borrowed boots and ruined designer suit, he moved with the ease of someone who’d never doubted his place in the world. Catching her reflection in a store window, Jaime winced at her puffy lavender unicorn-patterned snow boots.
She, on the other hand, looked like a walking marshmallow next to Edward’s polished presence. No one will ever believe they’re dating. Her family certainly didn’t. Not after she stood there gaping when her mom asked, “What’s this lovely young man’s name?
”
Edward. His name was Edward. And she really should have asked before agreeing to this charade. “Who doesn’t know their own boyfriend’s name?
” she muttered, trudging after him toward the chairlift winding up to the Grant Hotel. “Oh, come on. ” Edward steadied her with a surprisingly gentle hand when her boot slipped on the lift. “Nobody noticed,” she sighed.
Maybe not. But her family would notice something was off if she didn’t step up her game. She wanted her mom to look at her with excitement instead of worry. Grandpa Joe to crack jokes instead of walking on eggshells.
And her sister to stop pestering her about making better choices. “We should use this time to get to know each other,” she said firmly. “Build our cover story, you know, if we’re going to be selling this relationship. ”
The chairlift swayed gently as they ascended, but Edward remained silent, his dark eyes scanning the slopes with unsettling intensity.
“What do you do for fun? ” Jaime asked, searching his face. It was so stern she couldn’t picture it smiling. “I must have taken this lift last night,” he mused.
“Yes, that makes sense. Otherwise, my clothes would have been more damaged. ”
“Okay, next question. How did we meet?
” She prompted, trying to redirect him. “At your bar? ” He shrugged, still distracted. “Do you know of any caves near the Grant Hotel?
”
The word cave sent ice through her veins. She couldn’t think about caves. Couldn’t let herself wonder if Natalie was there, frozen like Steph. Not with her family watching her, waiting for her to crack.
“Who asked who out? ” She blurted. “Never mind. I asked you.
Obviously. ”
That finally earned his attention. “Obviously? ” He arched an eyebrow, confusion flickering across his features.
Jaime gestured between them, laughing nervously. “You know, why would you ask me? ”
Edward blinked like he sincerely hadn’t realized he looked like a Greek god while Jaime definitely did not. “Never mind,” she mumbled.
Through the mist, the Grant Hotel emerged like a fairy tale—soaring stone towers and gleaming windows perched atop the mountain, surrounded by dense forest and jagged peaks. “What do you know about this place? ” Edward asked. “The hotel?
Not much. ” Jaime adjusted her hat against the wind. “The Grants own the resort and everything else for miles. They’re like royalty around here.
”
“Is that so? ” His tone carried an odd amusement, like he knew something she didn’t. “Actually—” Jaime’s voice trailed off as she spotted a woman who looked like she stepped out of a fashion magazine. “See that stunningly beautiful girl?
That’s Victoria Grant. ”
“You don’t say,” Edward quipped, helping her off the lift with steady hands. “She runs the resort for her dad, Richard. Oh my god, she’s coming over.
” Jaime’s heart skipped as the statuesque blonde approached, her white-gold hair glowing like a halo. “And she’s looking at us,” Jaime whispered. “Why is she looking at us and waving? ”
“Hello, Edward.
” Victoria’s voice was honey over ice. “Glad to see you in one piece. Where’d you run off to last night? ”
Panic gripped Jaime.
The woman who signed her paychecks knew her fake boyfriend. Edward’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Here and there. ”
Victoria’s brows arched.
“Should I have the staff pack your things? ”
Jaime’s stomach dropped as Edward stiffened. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, his voice suddenly commanding. His hand settled on Jaime’s lower back.
“This is Jaime. We met last night. ”
“Did you? ” Victoria’s gaze sharpened, and Jaime swore the woman sniffed the air.
Her ice-blue eyes widened. “Did you say—? ”
“I did. ” Edward cut her off with a brilliant, dangerous smile.
“I’ve grown quite fond of Jaime. I knew from the moment we met that we’d share a deep connection. Almost like our souls connected. ”
Victoria’s face went chalk white.
“Your souls? ” She looked between them, her voice tight. “You mean she’s your fated? ”
“That’s right.
” Edward’s arm tightened around Jaime’s waist. “Jaime is mine. ”
“Yours? ” Jaime squeaked, wondering when this charade spun out of control.
“And I’m not leaving. ” Edward’s grin flashed teeth. “Now, let me know when my assistant arrives. ”
Victoria growled—a sound that raised the hairs on Jaime’s arms—then stormed off.
Jaime, still frozen in Edward’s embrace, stared after her. Something was happening here she didn’t understand. “She didn’t buy it,” Edward muttered against her hair, his breath warm. “What?
” Jaime asked. He spun her to face him, his movements fluid and controlled. “She didn’t buy it. You and I.
I need the Grants to believe it. ”
“Why? ”
His lips lowered to her ear. “I’m investigating her and her father.
”
The words hit like ice water. “What? ”
“Her father,” Edward growled, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Be discreet.
”
“Don’t talk to me like that. ” She slapped his hand away. Frustration flashed across his perfect features. It made him look less composed, less aristocratic, less unreachable—but no less beautiful.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. Jaime blinked. “Kiss me? ”
His hand cupped her jaw with surprising gentleness.
“Victoria isn’t stupid, and your nervous rambling isn’t helping. ”
“What if I don’t want you to kiss me? ” she challenged. “Then I wouldn’t force you,” Edward said solemnly.
“But don’t expect me to play along if—”
Jaime yanked him down by his scarf, crushing her mouth to his. For a moment, it was overwhelming. He was so much larger than her, one hand spanning her waist while the other cradled her head. She felt delicate, safe, owned by the way he held her.
All measured and controlled. She might have enjoyed it even if there hadn’t been a mechanical tint to it all—like Edward was doing what he was supposed to do and not what he actually wanted to do. Heat and frustration warred in her chest. Before she could think better of it, she threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled.
The sound he made—raw and completely spontaneous—shot straight through her. For just a moment, control seemed to slip in the way his lips parted, in the way his grip tightened, and with how he pressed against her. Then he pulled away, straightening his jacket. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he said smoothly, avoiding her eyes.
His voice was slightly rougher than before, and it didn’t escape Jaime’s notice. In the distance, Victoria watched them with golden eyes—which Jaime was certain had been blue a second ago.
