𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫 || 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐖𝐨𝐧

Chapter 24

The exhilaration of escape, of finally being free, kept Wonwoo going for longer than it should have. At first, he tried to follow the road, but it was clear the van had been the only vehicle to travel that way in a while. Soon enough, the heavy snow covered even its tracks, leaving him lost once more. He took off through the trees, searching for a vantage point to take stock. He needed to figure out a direction to go, and he couldn’t do that traveling blind.

More time passed, the whirling snow growing so thick he could barely see farther than a foot or two ahead of him.

Wind howled through the trees, the freezing air making him shiver despite his thick coat of fur. Time was short—there wasn’t much daylight left.

Okay, new plan. Forget running. It was time to find shelter. He trudged through the snow, scenting the air now and then for any hint of people. The slightest smell of smoke would be enough to suggest habitation. Yet, there was nothing but endless fields and forests of snow-topped trees. He could stop and shift to try to build a fire, but even a few minutes in his human form might be detrimental. No, he had to stay a leopard, and he had to keep moving.

The temperature dropped sharply as daylight faded, and Wonwoo could feel the snow clinging to his fur and sticking together, a layer of ice forming on his coat. He weaved among the trees, using them as a buffer against the cold winds. Wave after wave of exhaustion hit him. No matter how hard he tried to fight it off, it just kept coming. He knew it was the cold, his body losing the fight against the elements. He forced himself to keep on, to keep moving.

Stopping and resting wouldn’t help, even though he desperately wanted to. If he stopped, he’d sleep. If he slept, he’d die. And he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He hadn’t survived a kidnapping, climbed out of a moving vehicle, and raced off into the wilderness just to die alone in the snow.

He did all this for Mingyu. And he wanted—needed—the alpha to know that.

Each step was harder than the last, his legs heavy, his paws numb. Frostbite would take longer to affect his shifter form, but he wasn’t impervious to it. In desperation, he lifted his head and yowled to the sky. Maybe someone, somewhere would hear him. He hobbled onward, slow now, barely moving with each step.

And then, carried on the night air, was an answering roar.

Hope surged through him, and with one last burst of energy he yowled again, as loudly as he could. He didn’t know who they were, friend or foe, but if the alternative was death, he’d take the risk. Another roar, so loud it shook the air around him and sent snow falling in little piles from the trees. Whoever they were, they were close by.

He kept moving and tried to call again, but his voice failed him. Staggering along, his paws skidding in the soft snow, he realized he was out of time and out of luck. The urge to give up was almost overwhelming, but he gritted his teeth and pushed on. One paw, the other, the next, the last. Again. Again. Ag—

A shadow loomed over him, large in the twilight, and he sunk to the ground with a whimper, his belly pressed into the cold snow. Towering above him was a lion, his mane dotted with white specks as the snow swirled around them both. It couldn’t be. He had to be dreaming. Hypothermia did that, didn’t it? When things had gone too far?

The lion stalked toward him, pressing close as he circled Wonwoo, nudging at him insistently until Wonwoo pushed up onto his paws. The scent that hit him could only be Mingyu’s.

Wonwoo almost cried with relief. He was pretty sure you couldn’t hallucinate scent so clearly. But Mingyu was quite the bully, pushing and prodding at him, forcing Wonwoo to move when all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Didn’t the alpha see how tired he was? How cold? Why couldn’t he just have five minutes? Just five minutes to rest his eyes and warm up with the alpha’s fur as a pillow.

But no, Mingyu was unrelenting, even nipping at Wonwoo to get him to keep going. He walked, huffing out his pain and exhaustion with every step, casting baleful glances Mingyu’s way whenever he could spare the attention from their treacherous path. He didn’t know where Mingyu was marching him, only that they seemed to be retracing the alpha’s steps through the forest, the snow compressed by the weight of Mingyu’s four paws. At length, they seemed to veer off even that path, soldiering on through fresh, untouched snow. It was hard going—he kept sinking under and struggling to pull himself back out. Whatever energy he’d dredged up at Mingyu’s arrival had long since faded, leaving him barely able to move and struggling to keep his eyes open. He tried, he did, but it was all too much. Then his paw slipped again, the motion sending him sprawling hard onto the snow-covered ground. He stayed there, unmoving. He was done.

Mingyu circled him again, nudging at him, but all Wonwoo could do was whine softly. His muscles ached and vibrated with exhaustion, and his body flat-out refused to cooperate when he tried to do what Mingyu was asking and get back up. Mingyu’s nose nuzzled his cheek, and then the alpha moved away. When he came back, it was an all-too-human hand that brushed through his fur. Wonwoo was distantly aware that it was a bad thing—Mingyu, human in this cold—but he couldn’t do more than stare in confusion at the hand bare of fur.

“Okay,” Mingyu’s rough voice said. “We’re almost there. I’m going to carry you.”

Wonwoo blinked at that but didn’t have the energy for any more of a reaction as the alpha’s arms went under him. He was hoisted up into the air, held tight to Mingyu’s warm body. The alpha started moving, hurried footsteps through the snow. Almost running. Because… because there wasn’t much time. Exposure would hit a human faster than it did a shifter—especially a naked one. But it seemed futile. They were in the middle of nowhere. Where was Mingyu running to?

The answer came as they broke free of the trees, revealing the shadowed form of a cabin in the distance.

Shelter. They might survive this after all. He stayed still to make it easier for Mingyu to carry him and tried desperately to keep his eyes open. But he was done in, his body no longer listening to his mind. His eyes shut unbidden, and he couldn’t pry them open again. Too cold, too heavy, long past seeing.

Everything was a blur after that as he faded in and out of wakefulness. There was the crackle of burning wood and the smell of smoke. Something soft beneath him. A towel rubbing against his fur, brisk and rough. And through it all, Mingyu’s scent and Mingyu’s voice.