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How many more could they possibly be calling?
Clearly, I’m their Thanksgiving day meal.
I let out a whimper. Maybe it’s a dry sob.
I never thought this was the way I’d go. Lost in a blizzard then eaten by wolves.
It’s horrible. My mother will never get over it.
Even Blackthroat will probably feel bad.
I press my back against the tree and breathe in sob-whimpers, watching the wolves to see which one will strike.
ChapterThirty
Madison
One of the wolves approaches. It’s tan with black markings around the eyes and a black streak that runs from its chin down the center of its throat to its chest. I scream when it gets close, sidestepping around the tree, but it stops and sits in the spot I’d been standing and joins the howling.
Oh my God, how long will this go on?
And then I hear the roar of a motor. It takes me a minute–I’m so frozen and slow right now–to realize it’s a cause for celebration.
Before I can think to call for help, a shiny black snowmobile literally comes flying toward me, bouncing over a fallen log and going airborne for four feet before it lands and skids to a stop right in front of me. Blackthroat leaps off, and the wolves scatter and run.
No one could beat that entrance.
He flies toward me, scoops me into his arms and carries me to the snowmobile. “Madison. Fuck.”
I say nothing. I actually don’t feel altogether capable of speaking. Not after nearly dying of hypothermia and being eaten by wolves. I suspect shock has set in because I feel absolutely nothing. Not joy at being found. Not gratitude. It’s like my emotions went numb, too.
He drops me onto the seat of the snowmobile, then climbs in front of me. He grabs my wrists and wraps my arms around his waist, holding them there with one hand as he uses his other to give the snowmobile gas.
We lurch forward, and he takes off at the same speed he arrived. He twists around several times to peer at my face.
I’ve never seen him worried before, but I can tell he is. Frantically worried.
I must look terrible.
The ride is bumpy and fast. I have no sense of time, but it feels like a ten minute ride back to the lodge.
Blackthroat pulls up in front of the back door and leaves the snowmobile there, hopping off and scooping me back into his arms. “Madison, are you okay? Talk to me.”
I say nothing. It’s less a silent treatment and more that I seem to have lost my ability to speak back there with those wolves hunting me.
“Say something. Madison?”
I hear real fear in his voice, so I force my numb lips to move. “Fuck you.”
Not the nicest response to a guy who just rescued me, but he deserves it.
Blackthroat’s shoulders sag with relief, like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard from me. He strides swiftly into the house, kicking open the door.
Liz is there and the woman who looks like his mother. Others, too. His buddies, and his sister, maybe.
“Quick–what do we do?” Blackthroat snaps. “She probably has frostbite and hypothermia.”
“I’m Googling.” Ruby lunges for a phone.
