Page 63
The animal lifts his head weakly at the sound of my voice. I abandon my own horse and force my way through the snow. Then I see Boone.
He’s on the ground beside Bramble.
For one horrifying second, he doesn’t move.
“No.”
I stumble toward him and drop to my knees, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him toward me. Snow covers his coat and clings to his eyelashes and hair. His face is so pale that everything in me seems to stop at once.
“Boone.”
Nothing.
I tear off one glove and press my fingers against the side of his neck, searching frantically for a pulse while anger and something dangerously close to panic tear through me in equal measure. I feel nothing at first. I shift my fingers, press harder, and then there it is—a weak, sluggish beat.
Alive.
“Boone.” I slap his cheek lightly and rub my bare hand roughly over his freezing face, trying to force some warmth back into skin that feels far too cold. “Open your eyes. Now.”
His eyelids flutter without opening. Relief makes me briefly dizzy, but it does absolutely nothing to temper my fury.
“You absolute fucking fool,” I snarl, grabbing his face between my hands. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
A tiny sound escapes him. His eyes finally crack open, unfocused and heavy as they struggle to find mine through the snow whipping around us.
“Rhys?”
My name is barely more than breath, and hearing it only makes me angrier. Probably because I spent the entire ride down this mountain imagining that I might never hear him say it again.
“I’m here,” I snap. “Because apparently I have to follow you into a fucking blizzard to keep you from killing yourself.”
His eyes close again.
“Boone.” I shake him harder than I probably should, but the sight of him lying limp in the snow has destroyed whatever patience I possessed. “Do not close your eyes.”
“I’m tired,” he whispers.
“I don’t care.”
I pull him upright and gather him against my chest, rubbing my hands hard over his back and arms while trying to determine how badly the cold has affected him. His entire body is trembling, but there’s almost no strength behind it. I touch his face again, and the frightening cold of his skin sends another surge of rage through me.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I demand, tightening my arms around him when he sags against me. “You knew what this mountain could do to you. You climbed onto that horse and left anyway.”
“I didn’t know the storm…” He shivers and can’t finish. “I was coming back.”
A humorless laugh tears out of me. “Coming back? You were lying unconscious in the snow.”
“I would’ve…”
“You would have died.”
His face tightens, and I can’t tell whether it’s from my words or the cold.
“My father…”
“I know.”
“He’s alone, Rhys.”
