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He could feel her nearby, but she had to be back in Northernmost.

Surely she… wouldn’t have come for him?

He rolled his frozen wrists as his bear growled.

The chains were strong and probably magically imbued. How the hell was he going to get himself free?

As he contemplated shifting, he heard prisoners coughing, the drip of water and the crackle as it froze, and then footsteps drawing closer.

“Put her with the bear,” a male said.

The footsteps drew closer, and his heart pricked in awareness.

A male appeared, all gray skin and black eyes, reeking of Frost’s dark magic, and unlocked the cell.

Behind him, another male carried a snowy owl, limp in his arms.

His bear surged inside him, a bellow tearing from his throat as the owl was tossed into the cell. He tried to break the bindings, but the magic seemed to grow stronger, and he felt ice slither through his veins, freezing him in place.

The guards laughed and slammed the cell door, shaking icicles loose.

Winter dropped to his knees, thankful there was enough slack in the chains for him to reach True. He rested his numb fingers on her snowy-white feathers and her eyes opened. She squawked, struggled to her feet, and leaned against him with a cooing purr. He was so damned relieved she was okay.

“You shouldn’t have come, sweet love,” he whispered, his eyes stinging with emotion.

She shivered against him, and then she shifted back to human. “Oh shit, it’s cold.”

“Well, you’re naked.”

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “I had to come for you, Winter. You’re my mate.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. He wanted to give her his parka, but he couldn’t get it off with the shackles on. “I don’t know how to get free.”

Her lips were already turning blue, but she smiled at him. How the hell had he gotten so lucky to find her and so damned unlucky as to perhaps lose her in the frozen cells underground?

“Lemme look,” she said, teeth chattering.

She checked the shackles on his wrists, then ran her hands along the chains, trembling as she made her way to the wall where they were anchored to a plate in the carved stone wall.

She studied the plate and then looked at Winter. He joined her, pulling her toward him and trying to wrap the parka around her as much as he could. “Can you shift just your claws?” she whispered.

“Sure. Why?”

“The magic is anchored in the wall, not this iron plate or the shackles and chains. If you can claw the plate away from the wall, it might weaken the magic.”

“Damn. Yeah, let me try.”

He was shaking from the cold and it was hard to concentrate, but when True slipped her arm beneath his coat and hugged herself to him with a soft hoot of encouragement from her owl, he forgot about everything except shifting his claws and getting them to safety.

His claws extended and he drew on his bear’s strength, digging into the rock around the iron plate. After a lot of scraping and prying, he wedged his claws beneath one corner and yanked. The plate tore free with a loud crack.

Footsteps thundered toward the cell. Winter wrapped the chain around his arm and hefted the iron plate. When the guard burst in shouting, Winter swung.

The plate smashed into the male’s face with a dull thud and he collapsed instantly.

Winter and True rushed forward, grabbed the keys hanging near the cell door, and unlocked the shackles. Winter took off his parka and gave it to True. “Let me give you my boots.”

“They’re way too big. I’m better off running in my bare feet,” she said.