A Baby for the Snow Beast

Chapter 3: Am I Dead or Just a Bridecicle?

SHANA

Stalactite, hang tight. My eyes open to find jagged, crystalline stone hanging above me, suspended from a pocked, rocky ceiling. I blink several times to wash the image away, thinking it's the remnants of an odd dream.

Why are there stalactites above me? In high school, I had a science teacher who insisted on making everything a silly rhyme. Embarrassing when you're a teenager, but I couldn't argue against its efficacy. Now I know they always hang above, and the stalagmites come from below.

It's funny the things you think about when you're pretty sure you're dead.

I don't move for a long moment; instead, I take some time to study my surroundings. I'm still cold, but it no longer feels like I'm about to freeze to death. Small blessings.

The crystals above look like ice. In fact, the entire place looks like some form of hollowed-out snow cave. Rolling onto my side, I push up to a seated position, noting I'm still wearing my cursed wedding dress.

Grimacing, I exhale and try to get my brain right.

First, I'm sore as hell and cold, so I'm not dead—another small blessing. The betrayal hits me again like a freight train, Vinnie popping out from underneath Monica's skirt, feeling like a thousand knives stabbing through my heart.

I take a long breath and exhale it. I can't think about that now. I have to figure out where I am and why I'm still alive.

"Do not fret. The blizzard will pass." The voice is deep, rumbling through the cave.

I jerk in surprise, tugging my ruined shrug closer, and huddle in on myself. I'm trapped with a stranger. He sits among the shadows, a giant of a man, a flash of pale hair, but that's all I can see.

Fear beats in my bones, but he's made no move to approach me, and soon, curiosity wins. I'm hungry and confused, but I'm also dying to know how I wound up going from near death to being trapped in a cave with a stranger.

"Who are you?" I ask. Questions spill from my lips in a flurry of words. "Are you the one who saved me? Where am I? Is this really a cave? Did you look for bears before you brought us in here?"

The man exhales a huff of what sounds like amusement. Or annoyance. I can't be sure.

"My name is Penn. You're in a cave near where I found you, and yes, I saved you."

His voice rumbles against my skin, and I realize I don't mind it. It's...nice.

I notice he doesn't answer the bear question, but I let it go. Penn says nothing else, content to keep watching me.

"I'm Shana. Hey, you don't have to stay in the shadows. I want to meet the man who kept me from becoming a bridecicle."

He huffs again and studies me for a moment before giving another infuriatingly short response. "I'm taller than I appear. The cave we're in does not have much room."

I frown because those hang tight stalactites seem far above my head. How tall is this guy? Even if he was over six feet, he should still be able to stand up with no issues.

My eyes adjust to the light after a few minutes of strained silence. All I can make out are broad shoulders and the occasional flash of pale hair. He's large, no doubt, and covered by a voluminous cloak designed to hide his features. Or keep him warm.

My paranoia keeps rearing its ugly head.

What's this guy's deal? Is he on the run from the FBI? Something normal like a park ranger or explorer? No. Not an explorer unless he had a few screws loose. Only jilted brides explore the woods in a blizzard.