Page 44 of Sanctuary

I wage a mental battle as the sun sinks lower toward the mountainous horizon. The temperature has warmed even more. Even now, it’s not getting much colder. While it’s never safe to travel in the dark, there’s not likely to be predators of the human or animal variety this high up in the mountains. And there’s still enough light out right now that I can probably make it to the resort before it’s truly dark.

Besides, I know how to defend myself.

If Aidan is stuck somewhere injured or trapped, he might not be able to make it through the night. I’m not going to delay until morning. It’s not in me to wait around passively that way—not when there’s something for me to do.

So I bundle up, put some of our remaining food in a small bag, and stoke the fire higher, deciding to leave it burning so there’s a chance the building will be warm when we return. Even if we don’t make it back soon, the longer the stove heats up this room, the slower it will get chilled when the fire dies.

It’s getting toward dusk when I start off. The snow reflects what light remains, creating a weird world filled with bright edges and deep shadows. My leg feels okay—still sore but not actively painful. And I’m confident. Determined.

I know I’m doing the right thing.

I’ve been walking only about ten minutes when I see a motion in the distance. It’s dark enough now that I can’t see what it is clearly until it’s closer.

Then I finally can make out the figure of a man.

I know who it is, long before I can process any details of the body or face.

Aidan.

I stand still and wait for him.

His pace speeds up as he spots me. When he’s close enough for me to see his expression, it’s urgent. Almost needy. He moves into an almost run.

Because I can see his expression, I’m ready for him when he reaches me. He pulls me into a tight hug.

I hug him back, feeling just as needy as he is, but also incredibly anxious about the naked emotion.

Aidan isn’t supposed to feel this way.

And neither am I.

It doesn’t make sense that we do.

“What madness is this, love? You weren’t really thinking of hiking up this damned mountain in the dark?” His voice is slightly hoarse, but his tone is casual, amused.

It’s a relief, breaking through the inexplicable emotional tension.

I shake off my jitters and give him an impatient look. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m coming to rescue you.”

He laughs warmly and gives me another brief, one-armed hug. Then he turns me around and keeps a hand on my back as we walk toward the church. “I didn’t need rescue.”

“Well, you were very late, and you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, you know. It seemed like you might need some help from someone more competent.”

He’s still chuckling. He keeps slanting me quick little looks. Almost hopeful. “I’m sorry I’m so late. The building had collapsed, so I had the worst time getting to the wine cellar.”

“I figured it was something like that.”

“So then why this intrepid rescue mission?”

I shake my head. Shrug and avoid his gaze. Mumble, “I don’t know. I kept imagining you with a broken leg or buried under a collapsed roof. It seemed mean and petty to let you freeze or starve to death up there.”

He slides his hand from between my shoulder blades up to the back of my head. Uses it to turn my head to face him. “You’re allowed to admit you were worried about me, love.”

I snarl, mostly to cover a wave of self-consciousness. “That’s your ego talking.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

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