Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Not in the house.
All the cars in the garage.
Fox was outside with the explosion.
Winter raced to the back door and flung it open, only to recoil with a pained cry. The sun hadn’t set yet. The sky was still bright blue with golden light gilding every step between him and Fox. He was trapped.
“Fox!” he screamed. His hands gripped the door and frame so tight his arms shook, and his knuckles ached. “Fox!”
His knees threatened to give out as terror tightened his chest. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed Wyatt’s number. The wolf belonged to his brother Bel and wasn’t far. He and his other mate, River, would be able to go outside and search for Fox.
The phone rang and rang. Winter paced, mentally debating his options for running out into the sunlight. He wouldn’t get far. He’d need layers. So many layers to search for Fox.
“Hello?” Wyatt greeted in a groggy voice.
“Fox. Is Fox there?”
“What? No, he’s not. We’re still in bed. What’s wrong?” Wyatt’s voice grew clearer and more awake with every word.
“Not in the house. He—I can’t find him. There was an explosion. I can’t find him, and the sun is up.” The words were pouring out and he wasn’t sure if he was making any sense.
“He said something about the gardeners removing an old stump today. That was probably the explosion. We’ll come over and look for him, okay? You stay in the house.” Wyatt sounded so very calm and rational, but overwhelming panic and fear had obliterated Winter’s ability to be rational. Too much time had passed. Where was his Fox?
Winter turned to the open doorway, debating his options. He couldn’t remain inside. If he slipped into the dead world, would the sunlight still reach him? He’d never been brave enough to try it, but he’d risk it for Fox.
“Winter?”
He didn’t hear Wyatt because he spotted a familiar figure crossing the back lawn toward the house. He was jogging slowly.
Winter lunged for the open doorway and stepped onto the patio, his toes just shy of the line of sunlight. He was close enough to feel the sting and burn, sending hot needles into his bare chest, but he didn’t care. Fox was alive.
“Fox!” he screamed.
Fox’s jog turned into a dead run. “Winter, get in the house!” he shouted, and his voice was the best thing he’d ever heard.
“I found him,” Winter choked out to Wyatt before ending the call and dropping the phone where he stood.
Winter took a heedless step forward, not caring about the burning sun, but Fox did. He slammed into Winter, using all his strength and body weight to manhandle the vampire into the safety of the house.
“What the hell are you doing?” Fox snarled, kicking the door shut behind him. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
The words weren’t making any sense. There was only crushing relief that left Winter’s entire body trembling. He wrapped his arms around Fox, holding him as tightly as he dared while burying his face into his neck, breathing in his scent. Fox smelled of sweat, cut grass, dirt, and fresh air.
“Explosion. I couldn’t find you,” Winter managed to say through clenched teeth.
“Oh, God!” Fox’s arms tightened. “It was the gardeners, baby. They couldn’t pull or dig out that old stump, so they used a tiny bit of dynamite. I was a safe distance away, I promise. I wasn’t in any danger.”
“I couldn’t find you. Couldn’t reach you. If something happened…” Winter couldn’t even finish that thought. The cold empty void that opened up in his heart threatened to swallow him whole. There was no Winter without his Fox.
Fox shoved at him to put a little space between them, forcing Winter to meet his tear-filled gaze. “Look at me. I’m fine. I’m safe. I will always take care of myself for you.”
Winter’s panic started to ebb as he looked over Fox to find that he was completely intact and unharmed. But the panic was being replaced by stinging pain. He knew better than to step into the sunlight, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
“You’re a mess,” Fox said with a mix of disgust and worry. “I need to find the burn ointment until your body can heal this.” He tried to let go of Winter and step away, but Winter wasn’t ready to let more than an inch of space separate them.
“No, I’m fine,” Winter mumbled, pulling Fox in close again.
Fox sighed angrily. “No, you’re not! If you won’t release me, you’re feeding now.”
Winter knew he should argue. He didn’t need to feed from Fox that often. Just once every two weeks and he’d last fed from Fox two nights ago. He wouldn’t do anything to risk Fox’s life, but he hated to admit that he needed this right now. Needed the closeness to reassure himself that his sweet Fox was really okay.