Nina blinked, as though confused by the instruction.
He couldn't possibly be serious, she thought, her eyes trailing down his chest—but she caught herself and looked away.
A little cold wouldn't kill her, she decided.
"I'm f..f..fine," she stuttered from the cold.
His eyes darkened. "I would hate to repeat myself," he said, his voice a low growl.
Nina hesitated, her breath shallow.
The fire popped softly between them, but it did nothing against the bone-deep cold that had already settled in her marrow.
She pushed herself up on shaking arms. The torn dress clung to her damp skin as she crawled toward him. When she reached his side, she lowered herself carefully, making sure to leave a hand's breadth between them.
Rodrigo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was too stubborn for his liking.
He stretched out on his back, with one arm tucked under his head, dark hair spilling across the stone floor.
"Come closer," he muttered.
Nina shimmied a little closer as she tried to keep her eyes on anything other than Rodrigo. She didn't want to notice the shadows along the hard lines of his chest or the faint scar running along his shoulder.
She pressed her eyes shut, focusing on the heat radiating off him like a living furnace.
Nina curled on her side, facing away from him, knees drawn tight to her chest. She could feel the warmth rolling off him in waves, teasing the edges of her frozen skin.
A long minute passed.
Then his arm moved, draping across her waist.
She gasped.
Ignoring her, he pulled her backward until her back hit his chest.
The contact jolted through her like lightning. His skin was scorching. She stiffened, every muscle locked, but he didn't tighten his hold.
"You don't have to do this… keep me warm, I mean," she croaked out, guiltily enjoying the warmth engulfing her.
"You're right. I don't," he growled. "You are the reason why we are in this situation in the first place."
Her head snapped back at the accusation, her eyes widening. "What? How?"
He arched a questioning brow. "What were you doing outside your tent in the first place? Without any security or bothering to inform anyone?"
"I had to relieve myself."
"And I am supposed to believe that?"
She frowned. "I have no reason to lie."
"You mean the same way you and your family lied about you being a full-blooded wolf?"
Nina racked her head for a retort. She had nothing. So she pursed her lips and turned away, fuming.
In the morning, when she wasn't one wrong word away from freezing to death, maybe then she could revisit this conversation.
She closed her eyes, allowing the scent of the river and the smoke from the dying fire to fill her lungs as she waited for sleep.
His heartbeat thudded steady and slow behind her, a rhythm she had no right to feel safe against. Every inch of her body was still too aware of the solid wall of muscle at her back, the faint rise and fall of his chest pressing against her spine.
This man was going to be trouble—she could feel it in her bones.
When she woke again, pale morning light slanted through the cave mouth. Rodrigo was already up, crouched at the entrance and speaking in low tones to someone outside.
She sat up quietly, listening for who he might be talking to.
"…we came as fast as we could. Our trackers had a little difficulty tracking your scent because of the water."
Nina recognized the voice immediately.
"It's fine," Rodrigo muttered.
"What do you want to do about her?"
Her? Were they talking about her? Nina's heart dropped into her belly. She rose to her feet.
"Take her off the board. For good," Rodrigo replied in a bitter tone.
Nina hugged herself. He was planning to kill her. Shit. Shit. Shit.
She moved closer, pulling the torn dress tighter around herself. Rodrigo's gaze flicked to her—she froze.
She should make a run for it.
But to where? There was only one way out of the cave, and he was standing right there.
"Bring her something dry," he ordered. "We leave in ten minutes."
Was running even an option for her?
"Bring us a change of outfit. If we leave now, we can still get to Stormridge Pack by nightfall, in time for the funeral."
"Right away, Alpha." Seven bowed and disappeared.
Nina wrapped her arms protectively around herself, her gaze fixed on him as he returned into the cave.
He grabbed his shirt, then paused to look at her, his gaze sweeping over her. "Stay here until Seven returns with something decent for you to change into."
Without waiting for a response, he turned to leave.
"Are you going to kill me?" The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.
He paused, and for a second, he said nothing. Then, "I haven't decided yet."
He walked away, leaving her standing there, feeling a different kind of cold.
The rest of the journey was silent except for the crunch of dried leaves and twigs under the wheels of the carriage. Rodrigo sat by the window, glancing out wordlessly, his expression deadpan. Nina tried hard to maintain the same composure as him, but she failed and couldn't help but wonder if he could see how uncomfortable she was.
By the time they arrived at Stormridge Pack later that night, Nina's muscles felt stiff from forcing her body into composure.
One of the guards held the carriage door open. She stepped out and was immediately hit with the scent of funeral herbs and smoldering sage. Black banners hung from every pine, and the burial ground lay at the edge of a half-frozen lake, with stones arranged in a perfect circle and a pyre laid in the middle, draped in silver cloth.
Rodrigo stepped down beside her. "Behave. Do not speak until spoken to. And at all times, remain at my side."
Before Nina could respond, a tall blond man—taller than Rodrigo—with dark eyes approached. His smile was all teeth, sending goosebumps across Nina's skin.
He stretched out his hand for a handshake. Rodrigo's gaze lingered on the outstretched hand, then lifted to meet the man's eyes.
"Hades," Rodrigo began, "my deepest condolences on the death of your brother."
Hades retracted his hand, tucking it into his pocket, his smile widening. "I wish I could pretend like it's bad news. But you, more than anyone else, should understand that in most cases, death isn't always a bad thing—not if it serves a greater good." His eyes drifted to her.
Nina frowned.
"Your new wife, I presume," he continued. "It's such a shame…."
"You can talk to me, not her," Rodrigo intercepted, placing his body in front of her.
Hades raised his hand in mock surrender, then led the way to the funeral ground, where hundreds of people had gathered for their alpha.
He must have been a good man, Nina decided as she followed carefully behind Rodrigo along the narrow path through the crowd.
The crowd suddenly seemed riled up. Howling and wailing rose, and the people began to shift, closing up the path.
Nina looked around, confused, unable to see Rodrigo through the crowd. She glanced back—there was nothing but more sea of people.
Her heart raced, thumping violently against her chest as the wave of bodies carried her farther and farther away.
Then she felt it—a shriveled hand wrapping around her wrist and tightening.
She screamed, but her voice was drowned out by the crowd.
Then the hand yanked hard. Nina screamed as she was pulled under, swallowed by the mass of bodies.