A Baby for the Snow Beast

Chapter 4: I Know KARATE. Okay, Not Really

SHANA

He looms above me, a massive being made of pure brawn. I gape at his enormity, my mind freezing as I grapple with my raging thoughts.

He's huge. He's so—is he real?

His face is chiseled, with high cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass. Full lips, eyes the frigid blue of a cold winter sky, and hair the color of the season's first snow—a sharp, blinding white.

Fangs. He. Has. Fangs.

What the fuck is happening right now? Am I dead? Is this some weird fever dream brought on by exposure to the elements?

I blink up at him, my gaze trailing from his face to his neck to...fur. Everywhere. It's the same color as his hair, a gentle fuzz covering his entire body, the rest hidden by the cloak and pants he wears.

My fingers itch to reach out and touch his fur, but that's crazy. Isn't it?

His hands are mostly human, covered with the same strange fur, but his fingertips end in sharp claws that retract once he realizes I'm gaping at them.

I open my mouth, then snap it shut. I want to say a million words all at once, but I also want to scream and get the hell out of dodge. But he saved me? Could he be all that bad?

My lizard brain takes over, and I scramble to my feet, untangling myself from the cursed wedding dress, and haul myself to the cave's entrance.

He saved me because he wants to eat me. I'm the perfect meal. Alone. Dumped at the altar. No one would miss me. Not for a while, at least.

"You don't have any toothpicks!" I screech as I run for my life. He'd have to use an awful lot of toothpicks to get me out of his teeth. "And I know karate!" I lie.

I sense Penn's confusion at my words for a split second before he moves to intercept me. Where I'm a fumbling mess in an oversized dress, Penn is liquid grace and moves like water. He's twice as fast, and before I know it, he's in front of me, standing in front of the only way out.

I skid to a stop, so close my nose almost touches his chest, and throw my hands out in karate knives.

Gentle hands reach out to steady me, resting lightly on top of my bare shoulders. "You'll die if you go back out in your condition," Penn cautions me in his deep, rumbly voice.

Logic tells me I should be afraid of him. I should fight, scream, do anything to get away, but Penn makes no move to harm me. His eyes are soft but wary, and even though he could easily toss me away, I get the sense all he wants to do is protect me.

His fur is soft and silky as it lays against my skin, his hands curving around my shoulders, the warmth seeping deep and rushing away the chill from the elements. Although his facial features are sharp and his eyes a wintry blue, I don't feel chilled.

Instead, I feel...oddly warm and protected.

The cave we're inside smells like moist earth, but his scent overtakes nature. He smells like winter pine, woodsy and wild—the scent of a walk after the season's first snowfall. It's mixed with the comforting scent of sandalwood and fresh wind, with a hint of something wild and ancient in the mix.

Against my better judgment, I'm drawn to him, the urge to lean into him almost overwhelming my sensibilities.

"We have to stay here," Penn reiterates. His fingers move up to unfasten the cloak tied around his neck. "This will keep you warm." He lays the cloak over my shoulders, his large but nimble fingers fastening it to stay in place. I sigh as immediate heat seeps into my very soul, thawing all the frozen parts of me. "This is made from Aspen Willow bark, a wood precious to my people."