When the temperature dropped, Nadia felt it in her bones.

It hurt.

She shivered and moved closer to Shane, as if he could ward off the chill. Snuggled together in the sleeping bags he’d zipped together and covered in heavy quilts, they should have been warm enough. For the last few nights, she had been. Shane exuded heat and warmth and seemed perfectly willing to curl around her while they slept.

Tonight was no exception, but it didn’t matter. A storm was coming, one she could feel inside as the earth shuddered under its fury.

Wiggling onto her side, she touched her fingers lightly to his jaw. His beard abraded her fingertips, an oddly affecting sensation that she couldn’t afford to be distracted by. “Shane?”

He murmured something unintelligible and turned his face to her hand.

She was a woman, one who had been too long without a man. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she tried not to stroke his cheek. “Shane, please wake up.”

“Too early,” he muttered.

His lips tickled her palm, almost like a kiss. She shivered. “I think there’s a storm coming.”

He opened his eyes finally. “Shit. You sure?”

“Can you feel it?”

She saw the realization form in his eyes a moment before he shook his head. “Feels colder, maybe. That’s all.”

Maybe that really was it. He would know better than she would. Or maybe he simply didn’t want to frighten her.

If so, it wasn’t working. “I’m really cold, Shane. It…it hurts.”

“Shh.” He cupped the back of her head, his hand strong. Unyielding. “Look at me.”

It was dark in the back of the truck, with only the tiniest sliver of moonlight to illuminate their surroundings. She tilted her head back and sought his gaze.

“I’m here,” he whispered, determination etched on his features. “The cold isn’t going to get you.”

She swallowed a hysterical laugh that might have given away the depth of her fear. “If there is a storm, will we be safe?”

“Safe? Yeah. Whether we’ll be comfortable depends on how long it lasts.”

Nadia closed her eyes. “Would it be awkward if I asked if we could sleep the way we did on the solstice?”

He hesitated a shade too long. “Sure. Take off your shirt.”

It wasn’t a rejection, but with every breath spinning out into eternity, the brief pause felt like one. She squirmed onto her back, then to her other side, unsure if pain or relief formed the sick knot in her stomach. “Maybe later. If it doesn’t get better.”

One broad hand slid under the hem of her shirt. “Nadia. Take it off.”

She’d slept all but naked in his arms for two nights, and it had seemed innocent. Perhaps because she’d been weak, drained. Now, his hand on her skin brought heat that had nothing to do with physical warmth. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Stop.” His breath blew against the back of her neck. “Take it off.”

Within the confines of the sleeping bag, it wasn’t simple. She had to squirm to tug at the T-shirt, and by the time she had it over her head, she had no doubts about Shane’s physical response. She settled with her bottom cradled against his hips, every fiber of her being focused on the firm press of his arousal.

Even though he was bigger, he stripped off his shirt with enviable grace. Once he’d discarded the fabric, his hand slid around to her stomach and pulled her back to his chest.

Warm. So warm. Nadia sucked in a shaky breath and curled her fingers around his. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice had dropped to a rasp, rough and velvety all at once.

Too intimate. She swallowed. “We’re both adults. I suppose it’s inevitable.”

“What’s that?”

If he wanted to pretend she couldn’t feel his erection, she’d play along. “Awkwardness.”

“Survival,” he corrected, though she felt him shift slightly, angling his hips farther away from hers.

Maybe the tension was all in her imagination. Maybe it was her, grasping at a connection with the only person who existed in her world. “Thank you for keeping me alive. Keeping me surviving.”

“You going to keep thanking me?”

It bothered him. Another wall and she needed it right now. “Yes.”

His fingers curled around her hip. “So you’re trying to irritate me.” The words were mild, devoid of anger.

“It’s not my fault courtesy irritates you.”

“It isn’t courtesy. Once is courtesy.”

Her temper had always burned hot, even above the freeze line. Digging her teeth into her lip didn’t stop the words for more than a few heartbeats. “If you were the final authority on courtesy, you might have considered saying you’re welcome instead of snapping at me like I’m making demands on you with my pathetic gratitude.”

Shane stiffened, his hand tightening for a fraction of a second. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

It might be days before the feeling of his fingers digging into her hip faded. Imagination painted a different scenario, fingers grasping as he slid his leg between hers. As he came into her. Made love to her.

Slow. In the limited space they had, it would be slow and so intense. Just like this, with his body curled around hers, the angle beautifully deep. Strong fingers on her breasts, his mouth on the back of her neck, one hand buried in her hair…

Her cheeks were on fire. She had to swallow twice to speak, and even then it was raspy. Hoarse. “Thank you, Shane.”

His breath sloughed over her skin in a rhythmic pattern, and she realized he was laughing. “You’re welcome.”

Why he was laughing didn’t matter. “See? That wasn’t so difficult.”

“I’m an idiot,” he whispered. “And I’m never around people, not really. Slap me if you need to.”

It was so easy to cover his hand again, to twine their fingers together. “I don’t have any high ground. I’m blunt and not very diplomatic. Maybe that’s why the elders tried to beat manners into me.”

His laughter died as he tensed. “They did what?”

The impression she’d given of her people must truly have been barbaric for him to take the lighthearted words so seriously. “Not literally, Shane. Except for the baker, who smacked my fingers with a wooden spoon every time I tried to steal sweets from his cart—which was two or three times a week, until I started my training and could afford to buy them.”

He eased immediately. “I always snitched pie. Little chocolate pies. My mother made them.”

Her mouth watered at the thought. The rough camp food they managed was nutritious, and Shane made sure she had enough to fill her belly, but it didn’t always taste very good. “So we have something in common. Neither of us can be trusted around pie.”

“Good thing we’re not likely to find any on the trail.” His hand moved, stroking lightly, from her hip to the bottom of her rib cage and back again.

A caress. He was caressing her. Almost petting her. Every nerve awoke under his fingertips, until that expanse of skin felt hypersensitive. Alive. Nadia closed her eyes and let his touch do what nothing else could—warm her from the inside.

Let the storm come. Shane wouldn’t let the cold take her.

***

The storm hadn’t quite subsided yet, but Shane was ready to move the hell on.

They’d spent the last day waiting for the snowfall to abate. It hadn’t been so bad at first, plenty warm with them sharing the space inside the truck with minimal trips outside. But the proximity was starting to get to him, and he knew it was making Nadia twitchy too.

He pushed open the truck door and blinked at the heavy, clouded sky, at the snow that had drifted up around the truck. “Willing to risk it?”

Sleepy brown eyes squinted out at the vast expanse of white. She shivered and clutched the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “Can we? I don’t—this is beyond my experience.”

If he went off the road, they might end up having to pack up and hike, something that would dramatically slow their progress. Then again, sitting here wasn’t doing much for that either. “I’ve got double chains on the tires. It’s the best we can do, unless we want to sit here and let the snow pile up around us.”

That thought clearly alarmed her. “No, I’m willing to risk it.”

“Okay.” There was no camp to break, no supplies to stow, so Shane slid back into the truck and cranked the engine. “Get your seat belt buckled, and hold on.”

Nadia obeyed in silence. The seat belt clicked, and she tugged it twice, making sure it was tight against her chest. Only then did she curl her hand around the handhold to her right. “I’m comforted by the knowledge that werewolves have enhanced reflexes.”

Reflexes that went hand in hand with the rise of the beasts inside them. When that beast slept, so did the speed, strength and agility that came with it. “Yeah, just bear that in mind.”

The truck didn’t stick, but that turned out to be the least of their problems. Down the hill and around the first curve, Shane heard the buzz of other engines. “Shit.”

Nadia twisted in the seat, though the camper all but blocked the view behind them. “Is someone else out here?”

It sounded like snowmobiles, and quite a few of them. “Yeah. Could be nothing.”

He felt the weight of her gaze. “You don’t believe that.”

He gave her the truth. “Sometimes gangs roam around after storms, looking for people who got caught up in them.”

“Oh.” Oddly, it seemed to calm her. “Do they come heavily armed or trust their prey will be helpless?”

“Both, usually.” Which didn’t mean he couldn’t handle them, especially if she could help. “Can you shoot a gun?”

“A shotgun or a rifle. I’m better with a knife.” A pause. “Or magic. But if I use too much of it now, I’ll be back to dying on you within a few days.”

The buzzing grew louder. Either they were just up the road, or they were following in the trees that edged the highway. “I say if you have a choice between dying now or later, always pick later.”

Nadia nodded. “If it comes down to our lives, I’ll do what I need to do.”

And so would he. The truck crept around the next bend, and there they were, four men—or hell, maybe women too—dressed in light-colored winter wear, snowmobiles idling beneath them. Shane shifted the truck out of gear and reached for the door handle. “Handgun’s in the glove compartment. Rifle’s in the backseat.”

As he climbed out, he caught sight of Nadia twisting to reach for the rifle.

The figure in the lead swung off his snowmobile and tugged down a scarf, revealing a scarred masculine face and cold brown eyes. “Looks like you’re a long way from home. Get caught in the storm?”

Shane sized them up as he shook his head. “Nope, just passing through.”

“Not anymore.” He gestured sharply, and the figures flanking him lifted a pair of nasty-looking shotguns. “You take your little lady friend and start walking, and we’ll let you go. You might make the town five miles back if you give it your all.”

They had him outnumbered, and trying to reason with them would only make them more aggressive. “No.”

The leader’s eyebrows arched. “So you’d rather we shoot you?”

“I’d rather you look for your trouble elsewhere.”

“Your choice, man.”

Shane saw one of the shotgun barrels swing up, tried to move so the assailant would fire away from the truck and from Nadia inside it. The shot rang out, echoing in the cold—

—and the snowmobile exploded.

Fire shot into the air in an unnatural column, seething with angry color. The man who’d taken a shot at him vanished inside the inferno—and it had to be a man, because masculine screams shredded the air as pieces of the snowmobile rained down on the snow in a wide arc.

Shane hit the ground and rolled to his feet as the leader dived for him. He meant to call out to Nadia, to tell her to get down, but all he could manage was an enraged roar as the anger inside him broke free in a blinding rush.

The men weren’t going to touch either of them, not if he could help it.

He swung at the man’s midsection. The snow made his opponent slower, his dodge turning into a stumble. The crack of another shotgun blast—one that came from the direction of the truck—cut through his next roar.

A second later the other two men leaped at Shane. No way should he have been able to take on all three of them, but he felt like they weren’t even moving, like the earth itself was reaching up to mire them in its energy.

They couldn’t touch him.

The first man went down, and Shane caught him with a knee to the face as he fell. The other two struggled to restrain him, but he shook them off and grabbed one. Two quick punches to the solar plexus and Shane’s attacker staggered back, gasping.

There was no stopping him or the rise of the dark, primal energy that suffused him. Like heat, like…

Life.

“Shane!” Nadia’s voice, shouting a frantic warning. A fist flew at his jaw, and he took the blow. It didn’t hurt, only fueled the wildness inside him until his hands shook.

The third man hit the snow, his thick white parka clutched in one of Shane’s trembling hands; his other balled into a fist and drove into the man’s face, over and over.

“Shane.” He heard her again, but far away. Through a haze.

A hand touched his shoulder. Slid down. The fingers that curled around his wrist were strong enough to dig in. “Shane, he’s down.”

He froze. The only thing that penetrated the fog in his brain was that if he jerked away from her grasp, he could hurt her. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“We should leave,” she whispered. “If we don’t, we’ll have to kill all of them.”

They had no idea if these four were traveling on their own. They could be part of a larger gang, one that had split up to cover more territory. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She’d pulled off her mittens, and her bare fingers stroked his cheeks. “Are you?”

“I’m—” Shaking. Barely under control. “I’m fine.”

“Shane?” Not fear in her voice. Worry. “I’m cold, and walking in the snow is difficult for me. Help me back to the truck, please?”

Kneeling over an unconscious man in the snow wasn’t helping anyone or anything. Shane stood slowly and brushed the snow from his jacket. The blood from his knuckles. “I’ll carry you. It’s like you said—we need to go before anyone shows up.”

He picked her up with one arm, so that her feet dangled above the ground. A gasp escaped her, her breath too hot against his cold skin. “I can take care of their snowmobiles. It won’t take much.”

“It’d probably keep us from having to worry about them.”

Nadia nodded and lifted one hand, a small furrow appearing between her brows.

This time, he was close enough to hear the whispered words, something that sounded like an ancient language. Light kindled above her palm, a tiny, flickering ball. She tossed it at the closest snowmobile, and the tread snapped in a flash.

Magic swirled around them as she did it twice more, disabling the other snowmobiles, and Shane became painfully aware of the intimacy of their embrace. He forced himself to turn to the truck, open the door and set her on the seat.

Instead of releasing him, she reached for his bloodied hand. “Either you’re a fierce warrior in your own right, or the werewolf needed a fight.”

Her dark eyes were filled with an appreciation that shamed him. Shane pulled his hand away. “I’ve never been much of a fighter, so that must be it.”

Nadia’s hands fell to her lap. After an awkward moment, she turned and tucked her feet into the truck. “We should go.”

He cursed himself as he slammed her door and stalked around to the other side. It wasn’t her fault he was an animal, and blaming her for being impressed by the few good things the wolf could do for him wasn’t fair.