Hunted for the Holidays

Chapter 1

1

HOLY BY PVRIS

P ain throbs through my arm from the wraith of a bruise left by a monster; a monster I’m about to marry. A monster who’s dragged me out to some remote mountain in the middle of winter under the guise of a romantic couple’s retreat.

I once had someone tell me that the worst type of cold is that damp, humid cold of the Pacific Northwest. That it's the kind of cold that soaks your skin and chills you straight down to the bone, slithering its way into your very soul and turning you frigid from the inside out.

Respectfully, though, they were fucking wrong. That’s not the worst type of cold–not even close . This dry, frigid air that feels like ice encasing every inch of my body, is a scary type of cold. It feels like a thousand tiny knives are stabbing every inch of exposed skin. This is the worst type of cold.

I’d give anything to be curled up in some stylish Seattle coffee shop right now, snuggled up in a chunky cardigan that pairs perfectly with boots, rather than out on this expedition with the dry wind threatening to give me frostbite. The landscape surrounding me is serenely beautiful, but seriously, why the fuck do I need to be outside in the cold to enjoy it? I could enjoy the lush landscape just as easily- hell even more so- if I were back at the rustic but chic ski lodge, sitting by the fire and sipping a Hot Toddy.

I’m not the type of girl that’s into the whole nature thing. If only my fiance realized that fact, he’d have a much happier soon-to-be bride. Then again, my happiness doesn’t matter in this medieval style business deal that is my engagement to Kit Worthington.

Kit is what others might call ‘adventurous.’ At least, he likes people to think that he’s a well-traveled and audacious adventurer. The walls of his penthouse are covered with pictures of him in exotic locations all over the world, and every article beside them boasts his accolades, labeling him as a ‘globe-trotting philanthropist.’ As he leads me deeper and deeper into this untamed, freezing, wilderness, I can’t help but wonder if his mountain man persona is as much of a fraud as his nice and caring philanthropic bullshit he peddles to people.

Kit isn’t a nice man. And I’m starting to suspect that he has no fucking clue how to guide us back to civilization.

“You know where we’re going, right?” I shout to him over the howling of the icy breeze pelting me right in the face.

He doesn’t answer, just keeps swishing his cross-country skis further through the puffy powder beneath us. The snow here is loose, untouched by any living thing. That doesn’t seem like a great sign that we’re moving closer to civilization, in my opinion.

“KIT!” I demand louder. “Do you know where the fuck you’re leading me? I’m cold and wet and tired. I want to go back to the lodge!”

The sun is starting to set. The oppressive shadows of the snow-crusted pines are spreading further across the ground with every minute that passes. Soon, we’ll be left alone in the dark in the middle of fucking nowhere, with no cell phone reception, just begging to be eaten by wild animals.

My fiance spins around, a murderous rage that I’m quickly becoming familiar with in his eyes. At the sight of it, I feel the ghost of his harsh touch on my upper arm, throbbing where he grabbed me roughly last night when I didn’t do as he asked. The purple bruises shone brightly against my pale skin this morning. If we were closer now, I have no doubt his anger would be painful for me.

“Are you second-guessing me, Charlotte?” he snarls.

Shit, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at him. That’s not the type of woman he paid for. I mean, he didn’t actually buy me, of course, but, my father cut a fantastic deal right after my virginity was confirmed and the four carat diamond was placed on my finger. It wasn’t a coincidence.

I’ve been prepared my entire life to be this type of woman; the kind who could be traded to a man like him . Homeschooled my entire life, on a strict diet since the age of seven, ballet seven days a week, piano lessons five times a week, etiquette lessons, French lessons… everything, every moment of every day for the last twelve years, devoted to learning how to be the perfect bride for a wealthy socialite. I’ve been too busy for friends, boys, and fun in general. It’s fucking exhausting. I’d prayed that in exchange for sacrificing my life, I’d end up with a good husband; one who wanted to sweep me off my feet. Instead, I got Kit .

This is our only chance to get to know each other one-on-one before our Christmas nuptials. The entire engagement up until this point has been a series of meetings between Kit and my father, and now, this is supposed to be my time to be wooed by my fiance.

I should be grateful that despite our twenty-some-year age gap and his less than ideal temperament, at least he’s not unattractive. And that he still has enough energy for adventures like cross-country skiing, even if this is the most exhaustingly tedious type of adventure one could think of. Things could be worse.

“I know exactly where the fuck I’m going, Charlotte, dear,” Kit snaps, his words laced with a sour disgust that cuts through me worse than the cold. “Just try to keep up. I’m sick of going slowly for your sake.”.

I recoil slightly, fighting my own reaction. He’s never hid his true colors from me, but still, the more I get to know this man, the more terrified I am for our wedding night. Will he at least try to be gentle for my first time, or will he take pleasure in my pain? That thought chills me more than the frigid cold I’m in.

Trying to distract my mind from my horrible fiance, I focus on the soft swish of my skis across the snow. My thighs burn and the freezing air is heavy in my lungs. The pain is almost comforting, though. I’ve always reveled in the slightly comforting sting of pain.

A twig snaps behind us, drawing my attention. I stop and spin, scanning the rows and rows of darkened pines as I search for movement.

“Kit, did you hear that?” I yell over the sound of the bitter wind.

He doesn’t respond.

I turn briefly and see that he’s moved farther ahead of me, the distance between us continuing to grow. My heart stutters in my chest, lungs constricting tighter. I can’t be left alone out here. I wouldn’t survive even a single night.

Movement in my periphery pulls my focus back to the forest behind me. Shadows are spinning within the dark forest, as if someone’s watching us. I swear I can feel their gaze boring into me.

“Kit!” I scream, even louder this time.

The sharp sound of something cutting through the freezing air sends me flinching backwards in fear. I fall onto my ass, my feet trapped in the skis below me, and I turn my head just in time to see an arrow pierce through Kit’s snowsuit. Dark red blood splatters across the pristine snow around him and he falls to his knees, clutching at the arrow still protruding from his leg. His shrieks and screams fill the air, but I’m not paying attention to him anymore. My eyes are focused on the two masked men who have just stepped out of the trees, one of them pointing a hunting bow right at the crumpled figure of my bleeding fiance.