Page 9 of Abdominal Snowman

Soren hissed as he slipped and skidded the rest of the way down—only a few feet—and slammed to a stop against the side of the car. Leaning down, he peered in the window and found only a single duffle, and no signs of life.

Disbelief filled him as he turned his head and traced the path he’d taken with his gaze. It was steep, and those trees were already flimsy enough. How had a human gotten themselves back up?

He checked the front seat and glove box, and the booklet inside confirmed it was a rental.

Double shit.

Soren searched the surrounding area, but found no tracks, and no humans. The storm had probably already erased their foot prints. And in his human form, his senses were only half that of his beast.

They couldn’t have gone that far. He’d be able to find them. Soren knew this mountain better than anyone else.

Soren climbed to the top of the ditch, making it to the main road with a grunt. Lifting his head to the air, he inhaled deeply, trying to catch any strange scent that might lead him to the person.

But he smelled nothing but the brisk, cool air and the fresh snow. Some animals nearby, but the trace of anyone previously was out of his reach.

Eyeing the landscape, he turned his head back and forth, trying to decide where to begin the search. He knew how far down the mountain the town was, and no one would be able to make that distance on foot by nightfall. If the human had any sense, they’d have continued on whatever path they’d been on.

Straddling his four-wheeler again, Soren cranked the engine and turned around, following the only path there was. The sinking sun and the raging storm made for terrible conditions, and Soren slowed, unable to see more than a few feet in front of his vehicle.

He followed the main road, hoping the human wouldn’t have been foolish enough to try the thick woods.

But a while later, after the sun had finally said its goodbyes for the night, he had to give up. Heart heavy, Soren headed back toward his cabin, all senses on high alert for any odd movement or flash of life out of the ordinary. He found nothing.

Until the lights of his four-wheeler illuminated the snow globe safety of his home and he scented something that didn’t belong.

Someone.

He cut the engine while still in the trees, listening for signs of life, and he heard it. In the lightest, gentlest of thumps—a heartbeat.

Soren took off in the direction of the scent, unable to see more than a few feet ahead but knowing his destination anyway.

The lights of his cabin glowed, beckoning him closer, and as his home came into view, concern grew in his chest.

He slowed and drove a careful circle around his cabin, keeping an ear and an eye out for anything out of place. The heartbeat remained the same, steady. But no footprints were left in the snow. Soren eyed his cabin.

With a sigh that came out in a white cloud, Soren drove his ATV into the garage and parked it.

The pulse didn’t change rhythm, though now it was louder, and he closed the garage.

As he stalked across the concrete of his garage floor, the heartbeat beckoned him. Quietly, he opened the back door and swept his gaze around his cabin. At first glance, nothing seemed out of place, but the wet spots from melted snow belied the illusion.

The heartbeat faded as he heard the soft breaths of someone, and he approached the living room. The drops of water trailed from the front door to the couch, which was hidden by the brick of the fireplace. Soren rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks with a sharp breath.

A bundle of half melted, snow-covered pink made his heart leap, and he raced to her side. Dropping to his knees beside the human, he searched through wild hair and a fluffy hood until he found her pulse. It was weak but steady.

And however long she’d been here, in front of the roaring fire he’d stoked just before his run, it hadn’t done her much good. Her skin was still icy to the touch.

She didn’t stir.

Soren sighed. She was out, probably exhausted from the journey and freezing from the fucking blizzard outside! Pulling the bundle into his arms, he stood and rounded the couch, taking the stairs to the loft bedroom. This human had been through a lot in the past few hours, and if he ever wanted to congratulate her, she needed to wake up. Soren lowered the bundle to the bed.

She just needed to thaw a little first.

Soren left her for just a moment to crank the thermostat up. It hurt his abominable little heart to do so, but he’d get over it. If the human froze to death, she wouldn’t.

When he returned, she still hadn’t moved, and her body was shivering. Even in her sleep, she was freezing.

Skin to skin would be the best way to warm her up. However, he didn’t want her to panic if she woke up.