A Shifter Disaster Thanksgiving (Holiday Shifters of Frost Mountain #6)

Chapter Three

Dragons, Vampires, and a Voice in the Street

Diane hadn’t been married in six years, but in her experience, men were supposed to get on one knee and propose to you, not grab you and hang the threat of imprisonment over your head.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself once she’d decided that Sylvester was out of earshot. “What in blazes just happened here?”

She remained standing where he’d left her, her gaze fixated on the door. She could practically still feel his hands on her, his presence in the room. A warm scent lingered in the air. but she couldn’t quite place it.

“What happened,” she replied to herself, taking slow, careful breaths, “is that a stranger walked into this cabin, claiming he saved your life, and said I can become his wife or his prisoner. Even I couldn’t come up with anything that crazy.”

But "crazy” didn’t come close to explaining it. Who did he think he was, threatening to hold her captive if she didn’t agree to marry him? It was absurd. It was bonkers. It was batshit crazy.

And it was hot.

“You’ve got to be kidding, Diane,” she chastised herself.

But it was. As much as she tried to tell herself that Sylvester had been a total jerk to her just minutes ago, it was hard to pretend she hadn’t been transfixed by his nearness. Seeing him walk into the cabin had been one thing but when she got a look at his body, she’d been struck by his muscular good looks. Hell, when he drew her closer and put his hands on her hips, it had taken every fiber of her being to keep from putting her hands on him just to get a feel of his bulging triceps.

The memory of those blue eyes staring down at Diane filled her mind just then, and she gulped. Everything about that man exuded something she hadn’t encountered in a long time. In over half a decade, she’d faced too much disappointment to hold out much hope that she’d meet the perfect guy again. The guys she’d gone on dates with had pretty much dried her up in mere seconds. But this man… this man had her feeling like a leaky faucet.

And it was clear that Sylvester had done nothing but hit her with demands. He’d wanted something, and he’d gotten it. He’d dragged the words I will be your wife out of her. Diane had to admit that she’d hated to utter those words but saying them had somehow turned her on even more.

Even now, as she recalled her interaction with Sylvester, she couldn’t help feeling a mixture of trepidation and… well, excitement. He was like something out of one of her novels, like Horatio from The Siren or Benjamin from A Flame of Two Hearts . She’d be lying if she told herself there wasn’t something incredibly sexy about the way he’d asked her to be his wife.

You’re mine , he’d told her. You’ve been mine from the moment I plucked you out of the sky.

But that didn’t make his demand any less outrageous. There was nothing normal about strangers forcing you to be their spouse. The more she thought about it, the more concerned Diane got. He’d pretty much told her she would be safer with him than elsewhere. She didn’t feel very safe right now. Just how much danger was she really in? The only way to tell was to see what was outside.

According to Sylvester, she was on Frost Mountain, wherever that was. Diane had never heard of such a place. It sounded like a lazy attempt at describing a snow-covered mountain. Sylvester must be native to this place, she figured. It didn’t seem too farfetched for a man who’d spent his entire life here to call it something like that. To the rest of the world, it was probably somewhere in the Arctic region,

which raised another question in her mind. Just how had the plane made it to the North Pole? She could’ve sworn they’d been flying over Nebraska just minutes before the plane went haywire. Unless they’d somehow managed to get to this mountain by breaking the sound barrier, it simply wasn’t possible.

Sylvester’s face swam hazily in the forefront of her consciousness, and she bit her lip. His words floated through her memory yet again. You’ve been mine from the moment I plucked you out of the sky.

That part didn’t quite make sense, either. What could he possibly have meant by it? Plucked her out of the sky? He couldn’t have done that unless…

As the puzzle piece clicked into place, Diane’s eyes widened. She suddenly sat down hard on the rug.

“Oh, shit,” she muttered. “Holy shit, he’s the dragon.”

She still remembered the blue dragon she’d spotted earlier. At first, she refused to believe her own eyes. But now, she couldn’t help wondering how much of what she hoped was imaginary was actually real. The plane. The fall. The massive combination of scales, wings, and talons that had swooped toward her before she crashed into the mountain.

“Whoa.”

Diane had read a few paranormal romance novels about dragons, vampires, and other beings that went bump in the night, although she’d refused to dabble in that genre because she found it too unrealistic. She’d figured that sort of thing only existed in books and movies, never in reality. What was this, then? Had she landed in some kind of fantasy land?

Maybe she was still dreaming. She must have dozed off on Flight 18 and dreamt everything from the violent shudders that had rocked the aircraft to the cabin in which she now stood. But even as the possibility occurred to her, she knew it was unlikely. There was a limit to how vivid dreams could get.

What about all the other passengers on the flight? Had they survived or died on impact? Had Tom survived? It seemed unlikely. She hadn’t been the only one who got sucked out of that plane. She’d simply gotten lucky, a fate that the others hadn’t shared.

If she had to guess, she was now pretty far from the crash site. No doubt the dragon had carted her off to the other side of the mountain. If Flight 18 had any other survivors, she’d never know as long as she remained in this village. Not that she could leave. Or could she?

She could head out now or she could wait here like Sylvester had instructed and hope he returned with something to eat. If he didn’t, she just might pounce on him.

Heat rose in her cheeks as a sudden image filled her mind.

Her stomach growled suddenly, and she grunted against the sharp pain that followed. Diane clutched her belly, wincing. It hadn’t even occurred to her, but she hadn’t had anything to eat since… yesterday. It felt like that. She’d had some cereal in the morning before she’d left for the airport, but she’d turned down the airline food because she’d been so queasy that she feared she might throw up on Tom or one of the other passengers mid-flight.

“Maybe heading out won’t be such a bad idea, Diane,” she told herself once the pain subsided. “It’s a village, right? Hopefully, there’s someone out there who’ll be kind enough to give you something to eat. No point in staying here.”

It took her another couple of minutes to convince herself that she would be safe outside the cabin and then five more minutes searching the room for her shoes. She eventually found them lying by the fireplace in plain sight. Feeling fairly silly, she hastily pulled them on and proceeded to leave the cabin.

No sooner had she stepped out onto the porch than she was blasted by a gust of cold wind. Immediately, she rubbed her hands together. It had been so warm inside by the fireplace it hadn’t really occurred to her how freezing it was outside. The cold seeped through her sweater, sending a shiver through her body.

“Crap,” she said, and her breath came out in a puff of steam. “I think I see what he means now.”

Somehow, she knew the cold wasn’t the biggest threat to her life out here; it was hunger. She descended the porch steps into the street and immediately sank past her ankles in the snow. As the cold quickly raced through her body, she wondered why she hadn’t looked for boots instead.

But her attention was quickly diverted away by the scene that spread before her. The village looked like something out of a Christmas card. Cabins identical to Sylvester’s lined the small street, creating a narrow, winding path that curved just out of sight. In the distance, looming over the snow-covered tops of the cabins, stood a towering forest of pine trees.

The village was larger than she’d expected. And if there was one such village on this mountain, there had to be others. And the trees. Why hadn’t she spotted any of this earlier when she was falling?

Oh, right—she’d been too busy panicking to register much besides the plummeting plane, the dragon that had appeared out of nowhere, and the ground rushing up to meet her.

Despite the freezing cold, Diane found the sight somewhat warming. Forget Christmas cards—it looked like something out of a novel she’d once read. What was it again? Moonlight ? No, Twilight . It reminded her of the town in that novel, minus the modern roads and buildings—and cars.

Hopefully, there weren’t any century-old vampires lurking around. Diane doubted she would be so lucky. She’d already had an encounter with a dragon. There was no telling what else was in store for her. “I won’t be running into the woods with any diamond-skinned men, that’s for sure,” she murmured.

Still, this place was almost unreal. If the fact that she was in danger didn’t keep nagging at her, she might have considered using the village as the setting for her next book.

Diane Garrick stood in the middle of the street that night, ankle-deep in the snow, waiting for her darling husband to come around the bend. The cold bit at her skin, and her breathing grew shallower by the minute, but she remained where she stood. He would be back, soon—

Her stomach growled again, reminding her she needed to eat something before she passed out from hunger and exhaustion. She glanced up and down the street, which was surprisingly empty except for her, and decided to head eastward.

But before she able to take more than few steps, a loud voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Stop right there! Don’t move another muscle!”