Panic should be pulsing through my veins. I should be afraid. But instead, there’s only curiosity and a driving need to explore. I slide my hands deeper into the thick fur, fingertips grazing against skin like heated velvet. A shudder rolls through him, and I freeze. His arms tighten around me, a silent response to my touch.
I should stop. I should do a lot of things. But I’m so tired of doing what I should, and the heat is intoxicating. Before I can overthink it, I press my face deeper into the warm fur, nuzzling against it, seeking more of the delicious warmth and that velvety skin.
Another rumble. This time, unmistakably pleased.
A rush of something wicked pulses through me, and my thighs press together instinctively. My cheeks burn at my body’s response, but I can’t help it.
I tell myself it’s just the aftereffects of nearly dying. That it’s just biology, seeking heat and comfort. Celebrating that I am indeed alive. I am not—cannot—be reacting to him like this. He’s a mythical creature, not a man.
And yet.
The steady flex of his muscles beneath me, the sheer power of him, the impossible contrast of brutal strength and the careful way he holds me—all of it coils together, winding tightly around something dark and unspoken inside me.
I shift, needing distance, but the movement only makes it worse. The friction of my thighs, the steady press of his body against mine, the way his breathing changes—deeper, heavier—as if he knows exactly what I’m feeling.
A new kind of panic grips me, one that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fact that I might be enjoying this too much. And maybe he is, too.
I don’t know how long we walk like this—minutes, hours—but eventually, the rhythm changes. His steps slow and his muscles shift with the change in incline. We’re going up.
I frown, trying to make sense of it. Shouldn’t we be descending toward Migdhari?
I take a breath to ask, to say something. But I don’t know what to say or if he can even understand me. In the quiet of my uncertainty, my mother’s voice drifts through my memory,Sometimes, the only way left to go is up, honey.
I bury my face deeper into the delicious warmth of his skin, and decide to give myself over to finally doing something I shouldn’t. My eyes drift close again as the final thought curls my lips into a crooked smile. Yeti or not, up we go.
Achill creeping over my skin wakes me some time later, the heat from being held so closely by the Migoi dissipating into the cool air. I blink against the dim light, my surroundings swimming into focus.
Gone is the raging storm, the endless white, and the relentless wind. In its place is something both impossibly different and completely unexpected—a vast cavern.
I sit up, fascinated by the change in scenery. The air here is thick, rich with minerals. Stalagmites rise like frozen sandcastles from the ground, while stalactites hang like jagged chandeliers overhead. Light refracts off the embedded crystals, casting a soft, shifting glow through the misty air.
A sound pulls my attention away from the beautiful view. Is that water? I get to my feet and walk over to find steam curling upward from a massive pool in the center of the cavern. It seems alive, a bioluminescent glow dancing across its surface.
When I dip a finger in, heat and light shimmer in its wake. Enchanted, I swirl my hand through the warm water, surprised by the faint glowing trail it leaves behind.
Where am I?
A shift in the background pulls my gaze upward, away from the magic of the living water, and has every muscle freezing into place. Adrenaline courses through my body, panicked sweat blooming in its wake.
A shape detaches from the shadows and coalesces into myth made flesh. My pulse races, a fine tremor running through my locked muscles. I should be afraid. I should turn and run. But I already know who it is, and my damned innate curiosity is pulling me towards something that feels an awful lot like fate.
The Migoi.
Unsure what to do I give a little half-wave, then kick myself for making such a silly gesture at the legendary guardian of the mountains and forest. I flush as red as my hair, embarrassment heating my skin, the flush creeping up my neck erasing the chill from earlier.
He steps forward into the dim glow, and my breath leaves me entirely. Gone is the long, white fur that blanketed me against the cold. The great shaggy head that eclipsed my vision after the avalanche has been replaced, leaving in its place a figure that looks more man than beast.
My swallow is audible over the soft backdrop of the water. He is as ruggedly handsome as the harsh terrain he calls home. Still otherworldly, yes, but undeniably gorgeous. His white hair is tousled, thick waves tumbling over his forehead and fading into the short fur that courses over his shoulders.
The luminescent silver eyes that have been haunting me stare back, glowing in the dim cave like moonlight over the snow-covered mountains, studying me just as intently as I am doing to him. They are framed in a harsh yet beautiful face that is all angles—chiseled cheekbones, straight nose, and a sharp jawline.
The only softness is his full, lush lips. Pointed teeth peek past them, and gods help me, but all I can think about isrunning my tongue over each white tip, or better yet, having them run over me.
Tall, broad, and carved from shadow and ice, every inch of him is honed and hardened, power coiled into every line. My eyes trail over his broad shoulders that taper into a chiseled torso, down to the sharp ridges of his abdomen, the deep V of his hips, and…
My jaw falls open as I finish my survey. I don’t know what I expected him to be wearing. Fur pants? A strategically placed snowflake? But the fact that he is absolutely, gloriously naked is not exactly disappointing. My face burns as I realize I’m staring, but how can I not? He is magnificent.
He takes another step closer, moving cautiously as if I’m a scared rabbit, muscles rippling with every movement. I watch, mesmerized as he dips his large hand into the steaming water, the faint blue-green swirling around it. He pulls his hand out and smooths back his thick shock of white hair.
