Page 15 of Mountain Summons

“You know…” she murmured, fighting to stay conscious, “Dream Tristan… he also kissed me.”

Tristan stiffened mid-step.

“Did he?” His voice was low, rough in a way that sent warmth through her despite the cold.

“Mm-hmm,” she said sleepily. “And it was… a really good kiss. Like the one we shared in the bar. Only even better.”

A beat of silence. Then a slow, deep exhale.

“Sweetheart,” Tristan murmured, “we are absolutely going to talk about that… when you’re not half-frozen and delirious.”

She would have laughed, but the exhaustion was winning again.

The last thing she felt was the way he held her even tighter, his arms steady, unyielding, and safe.

Tristan

Tristan stumbled into one of the larger cave formations that he knew dotted this area. There were higher caves, and he would have liked to get to one of those, but he figured they’d climbed high enough to be protected from the river.

He needed a break, and he needed to get Lena warm. She was only half-conscious now, and her lips were tinged with blue. She’d also stopped shivering, which wasn’t a good sign.

Tristan moved quickly inside the cave, his heart hammering against his ribs, his arms screaming from the effort. It was a good cave—deep enough to provide shelter from the wind and rain, but not so deep that large animals were likely to have made their home there.

He set Lena down as carefully as he could, his stomach twisting as she let out a weak, barely-there sound of pain.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, kneeling beside her. “I know. Just hold on.”

Her breathing was too shallow, her skin icy beneath his fingers. He had to work fast.

He yanked his pack off, digging inside for his emergency supplies. Thermal blanket. Bivy sack. Stove. Emergency lantern.

He turned on the Black Diamond Moji lantern first, placing it on the ground next to them. It gave off enough light that he could turn off his headlamp for now. He poured some water from his canteen into a small pot, setting it over the portable stove to warm.

Cursing under his breath, he struggled to get his frozen fingers to work enough to unzip the bivy sack. Finally, he had it as open as it would go. Body heat was the fastest way to warm Lena up, and at this point, modesty wasn’t a concern.

He grabbed the blanket, laying it on the cold, hard ground, and set Lena on top of it, unzipping her wet outer layers and removing them as quickly as his frozen fingers would allow. God, she was soaked through. Finally, he’d pulled away the cold, clammy fabric, leaving her clad in leggings and a sports bra. He didn’t dare remove her boots. He didn’t know how bad the injury to her ankle was, and his main objective right now was to prevent further damage.

“Lena,” he called softly. She barely stirred.

Not good.

He stripped off his own long-sleeve top before maneuvering them both into the bivy sack. He pressed his body to hers, pulling the fabric tight around them, pressing his body heat into her icy body.

She didn’t even react. No shivering. No protests. Nothing.

Tristan’s throat tightened.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, voice rough. “You hear me?”

He ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to force her body to wake up, to fight back against the cold. His chin brushed against the damp strands of her hair, and he muttered another string of curses.

Her breathing hitched slightly, and then—the tiniest shiver.

Good. That meant her body was recognizing the warmth.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he whispered. “That’s it.”

The lantern and the small flame from the portable stove worked together to cast a warm, golden glow against the cave walls. He stayed close to her until he heard the water start to boil, then pulled himself out of the warm cocoon, pouring the water into a small mug and digging into his backpack for a small package of instant tea, which he ripped open with his teeth.

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