Winter's Kiss (2 page)

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Authors: Felicity Heaton

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Gothic, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Werewolves & Shifters

BOOK: Winter's Kiss
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At least the snow couldn’t make it through the trees.

Nika hummed quietly to herself while she walked, thinking about how nice it would be to arrive home and sit down in front of the fire. The thought of that warm blaze made the cold feel distant. She wasn’t far from the

6

village now. Soon she would be safe in her family’s home,
out of the frigid night and bleak woods. It felt like months rather than weeks since she had gone away to St. Petersburg. A smile touched her lips when she recalled walking past the mansion. He had been on guard duty again, silent and sentinel outside the gate with another man. She knew it was him. Those beautiful dark eyes had spoken to her as they always did, telling her words that her heart loved to listen to. He never looked at her, but there was always a strange emotion in his eyes when she stopped in front of him. The cold emptiness that used to fill them disappeared, leaving what her heart interpreted as warmth behind.

She didn’t know who he was, or even what he looked like beneath his armour, but she knew one thing. She wanted no other man in this world.

Her heart lightened as memories of him came back, always protecting the gates of the large mansion. On the few occasions that she had plucked up the
courage
to speak to him, he had never uttered a word back at her. He hadn’t even spoken tonight when she had mentioned the tales about the man he guarded. Terrible tales they were. Stories of demons and death, of bloodshed and violence. Her whole village whispered of them. They were right in a way. There was something different about the men there. In all the years that she had passed those gates, that man had never changed. Not when she was a child and not now that she was an adult. It was the same man. He hadn’t aged one year in the twenty she had seen him. She was sure of it.

Through the trees, pinpricks of light flickered in the darkness. The village. She doubled her pace, thinking only of the warm fire and seeing her father again.

A howl sliced the night in two.

7

Nika froze to the spot, ears pricked and heart thundering.

Perhaps it had
been
the wind.

Low growls made her head snap around. Seven large dark shapes slinked out of the shadows. Their fur spiked in a line down their backs, wriggling like a snake when they shook themselves and growled at her. They stepped onto the path between her and the village. These were no ordinary wolves. She remembered them from her childhood. They had killed half of the village.

The one in front lowered its head and stared at her with bright amber eyes that promised a painful death. It snarled to reveal huge canines.

Nika screamed.

Before it could attack, she turned, dropped her bag and ran. She grabbed the front of her coat and skirt, lifting them so she could sprint unhindered, and headed through the woods in the direction of the mansion.

It wasn’t long before her legs were beginning to tire. Their muscles strained under the pressure of running over the uneven ground and seized up as the fear broke into her mind, sending panicked thoughts pounding through her skull.

She was going to die.

The voice at the back of her mind told her to give up, but she wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready to die. It was something that happened to someone else, not to her or the people she loved. If she could make it to the mansion, she would be safe. The men there would fend off the wolves. The man would protect her.

Nika shrieked again as she tripped on a branch hidden beneath the frozen leaf litter and hit the ground hard. She
immediately scrabbled to her feet and ran blindly into the forest, desperate to escape the wolves. Behind her came their thundering feet and heavy panting. They were closing in.

In the blink of an eye, it was over. The full weight of one of the wolves hit her in the back, sending her tumbling to the floor. Another howled. She turned and wrestled the wolf off her, scrambling across the dirt away from it. One of them grabbed her ankle, the thick leather of her boot the only thing protecting the delicate joint. It growled. Nika screwed her eyes shut and brought her hands up in front of her face as the others leapt at her.

“Niet!”

Nika kicked the wolf off her ankle, eliciting a whimper from it, and pushed against the others. Breaking free, she got to her feet and ran again. Moonlight broke through a gap in the trees some distance ahead of her, illuminating a small shack.

Her heart willed her to make it there. It was her only chance.

She screamed again when one of the wolves snapped at her, trying to grab her arm. She punched it across the face and kept running, desperate to survive.

A thundering sound joined the cacophony of wolf growls and snarls and her rough breathing. Nika looked ahead of her to see the shack and then a large black horse with rider. She reached out to him, a silent plea for him to help her, and then fell when the wolves pounced on her. Pain erupted in her leg. Her heart missed beats as claws and teeth tore through her clothes.

Her last hope left her when she found herself face to face with the largest wolf. Hot breath washed her face, stealing her own. She sent a prayer to God and stared into the wolf’s yellow eyes, into the eyes of death.

The thundering hooves stopped. Above her the horse’s legs appeared, kicking out as the huge black beast whinnied and snorted. The wolves scattered, leaving her pressed into the dirt and frozen leaf litter, petrified and in too much pain to move.

The horse snorted again as it came down onto all four feet beside her and the rider appeared in her tear-blurred view.

“Hand,” he said in a muffled Russian voice and extended his towards her.

Nika feebly raised hers towards him. She wanted to take hold of that black gloved hand and escape this nightmare. He shook his impatiently. She struggled to move faster, weak from the white-hot pain burning inside every inch of her body. He bent forward on the saddle, caught her hand, and pulled her up into the air as though she weighed nothing. He settled her on the saddle in front of him. Pain shot up her leg and lanced her stomach. It stole her senses, filling them until she knew nothing but the warm pulsing throb. She was vaguely aware of his arm against her back and his hand on her waist, and the wolves closing in.

He turned the horse. Nika gritted her teeth and leaned into him. Each step of the horse’s gallop jostled her on the saddle. The pain was unbearable, wracking her to the depths of her bones with each movement, but the alternative made her cling to consciousness and life. The wolves growled, closer now. The horse suddenly stopped and the man lowered her to the ground. Her legs

10

buckled beneath her. He caught her before she could collapse and held her close to his
hard
chest.

“Run!” he said and she hazily wondered if he was talking to her. She didn’t think that she could run. The pain in her leg was too intense, blinding. The horse whinnied. Was he talking to it?

Her heart beat faster, each pulse sending stabbing needles sweeping around her body. Darkness encroached at the edges of her mind, sending her thoughts fuzzy and her body numb. The man carried her into somewhere and set her down on something soft but lumpy. The sound of wood scraping and heavy objects slamming made her open her eyes. She frowned, vaguely aware that they were in the small shack she had seen and that he was barricading the door.

A wolf howl sounded just outside.

She flinched in pain when she curled up, the wounds on her body stinging. Her left leg burned as though it was on fire. She couldn’t move it. She left it lying limp in front of her. The man looked at her and then around the small hut.

“Do not be frightened,” he said, as though those four words could erase all her fear.

It crushed her chest and stole her breath. She struggled to suck in air, panic closing her throat and pain making the slightest thing too hard. Her leg was wet. She could feel the steady slide of blood down her arms. Oh God. She was going to die.

Her panic only increased when the dreadful sound of claws against wood filled the small shack. Snarls came in under the door and growls made her skin crawl. She tried to back away but the sound surrounded her, leaving her nowhere to go. The man stood at the door, his tall figure a black
shadow in the low light. He didn’t move. He stood sentinel with his hand on the hilt of the sword at his side.

The blade of which gleamed when he began to draw it.

The wolves scrabbled faster at the door and walls, as though they were trying to dig their way through. Nika reached out to the man, numb and petrified. He stepped towards the door and her heart slammed against her chest.

The two small windows on either side of the door exploded, showering her and the man in glass. The wolves leapt high, paws scrambling for purchase on the windowsill. They disappeared again only to attempt another go at getting into the building.

The man fully drew his sword.

She extended her hand further towards him. “You can’t fight. There’s too many!”

A terrible scream made them both jump. She had never heard such a horrifying and inhuman sound. A chill swept over her back and down her arms. The scream came again amidst a discordant symphony of growls and snarls. She closed her eyes and used the last of her strength to cover her ears, not wanting to hear the horse as it died.

Dreadful silence fell.

Chapter 2

Nika tried to breathe slowly but found it impossible now. If she didn’t breathe quickly, she was sure she would pass out. She clung to consciousness but slumped back onto the bed, no longer strong enough to hold herself in a sitting position. The pain reached her neck and crept upwards to her head, making her skin flushed and hot.

“Gone?” she whispered, in too much pain to ask the whole
question.

The man turned and nodded.

“For now at least,” he said in perfect Russian, his voice still muffled by the mask across the lower half of his face.

She knew it was him. When he had saved her, she had seen his eyes.

He moved across the room to her, sliding the sword back into its sheath. She idly watched him, too weak to do anything else. It was a fight just to stay awake. He removed his facemask
and
helmet and placed them on the end of the bed. She wished it were lighter in the room so she could see his face. She had always wondered what he looked like, had painted a picture of him in her imagination from his eyes alone. She wanted to see him before she died.

Drawing his long cloak back over his shoulders, he looked around the room. She looked too, dazed. What was he searching for? Was he worried the wolves would come back? They had eaten now. Surely, they would leave them alone. Her leg ached when she tried to
move
and a new wave of nausea passed over her. She closed her eyes to fight it and when she opened them again, the man held a small glass lamp. He dug his hand into his pocket and then a tiny flicker of gold punctured the darkness. The lamp blazed into life when he lit the wick and then closed the glass door. He walked to the head of the bed. She stared up at him while he placed the lamp down.

He was far younger than she had expected, but just as handsome. His dark gaze roamed over her, a concerned frown marrying his black eyebrows. Tied at the nape of his neck, his long fine black hair caressed his broad black-clad shoulders. As he bent over, threads of his hair slipped
down and grazed his throat. The warm light from the lamp made a scar on his neck stand out and she found herself staring.

“I need to take a look at you,” he said and, before even waiting for her to agree, began opening her long black coat. He peeled the two parts aside and helped her sit so he could remove it. The room was freezing without the warmth of her coat and she shivered. The man’s fingers moved carefully over her arms, his gaze intent on their work. He frowned harder whenever he found a cut and inspected it closely before moving on to the next. Her eyes widened when he shifted his attention to her legs and pulled the skirt of her dress up. She wanted to protest but didn’t have the energy to spare.

Collapsing back into the bed, Nika closed her eyes against the pain when he touched her leg and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“What is your name?” he said, voice low and deep, caressing her ears in a way that made her want to relax and fall asleep.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He stood over her, face half in shadow. The side that she could see made her breathless. The soft lamplight highlighted the subtle line of his cheekbones and the defined curve of his jaw. It played on the tempting fullness of his lips and danced in his eyes.

Something in those eyes made his tone feel cold and distant. His gaze flickered to her legs. She knew it was bad, could feel the wounds on them through the numbing heat of pain. His black gloves shone with her blood. She was losing too much to remain conscious for long. It was only a matter of time now before she passed out. Would he stay with her? Would she wake up if she embraced the darkness?

“Am I going to
die?”
she whispered, slow and between breaths.

He frowned at her. “No.”

He sounded so sure that she almost believed him.

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