Page 7 of Primal Snow

Or is it me projecting?

As we unload the groceries and booze, I glance back at the woods. And for a split second, I think I see something move in the shadows.

My pulse spikes, but when I blink, it’s gone. Just the trees, the wind, and the snow. But the feeling doesn’t leave me. Whatever that thing was, followed us here. It’s now lurking in the dark. Studying us.

I swear I can feel its eyes on me. Cold. Unblinking. The wind picks up, making the trees creak, but all I hear is the thudding of my own heartbeat.

Chapter 4

The cabin is buzzing with dysfunction while the incoming storm outside is forgotten for the moment. The fireplace is going full pyro, casting flickering light over the open-concept room, and Vicky’s meticulously curated playlist blasts through the Bluetooth speakers. The coffee table is a graveyard of empty beer bottles, crushed soda cans, and snack carnage—half-eaten chips, a smear of guac, string cheese wrappers, and a pile of baby carrots no one’s touched. Clearly, we’re thriving.

It’s messy yet warm in a way that makes me hate it a little less. Butonly a little.

Mia’s sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, tequila shot in one hand, beer in the other, and all the bad decisions in the world written on her face. Beer as a chaser? Bold choice. I already know where her night is heading. She glares at Derek with the intensity of someone who’s been scrolling relationship advice on TikTok.

“I’m just saying,” she slurs, punctuating every word with a dramatic wave of the bottle like it’s a microphone, “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t be texting her.”

Derek, sprawled out in the armchair like he’s physically weighed down by her nonsense, lets out the kind of groan that says he’s over this conversation and maybe over his entire life. “Oh my God, Mia, for the last time—it wasn’t like that.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She rolls her eyes so hard I’m amazed they don’t pop out of her head. “That’s what every cheater says,” she snaps, but her words lack the venom they had earlier. She’s too tipsy to stay angry. She just yanks a tortilla chip at his face. It bounces off his forehead and lands in his lap. He doesn’t even flinch. Progress, I guess.

Meanwhile, Vicky and Jay are cozied up on the couch, sharing a blanket. They look like a couple from one of those Pinterest boards titledRelationship Goals, and it’s both sweet and makes me gag. But judging by how they are cuddled up, things are much less classy underneath that blanket.

And then there’s Chase.

He’s next to me on the other couch, looking sexy in that maddening way he always does. His one arm is drapedacross the back of the sofa, all relaxed, but every time he shifts, his fingertips brush my shoulder. It’s such a him move—subtle, but deliberate enough to make my stomach flip. His other hand holds a beer, and he takes slow sips, watching the chaos unfold with amusement.

We haven’t been dating that long. A couple of months, tops. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to give him a chance at first. He’s just… too perfect. Perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect everything. It’s obnoxious, to be honest. But he was persistent and kept asking me out until I finally said yes. What I really wanted was to get it over with, half-expecting it to fizzle out. Except it didn’t.

And now here we are. In Alaska. Romantic, right?

In the background, Mia throws another chip at Derek, this time hitting the fireplace instead. It sizzles on the edge of the flames, and everyone just stares at it for a second before bursting into laughter.

“Having fun?” Chase murmurs, leaning just close enough that I can feel his breath tickling my ear. My heart skips a beat, and I’m pretty sure he can tell.

“Thrilled,” I deadpan, gesturing vaguely at the tequila-fueled telenovela before us. “This is exactly how I pictured the trip going.”

He chuckles, low and soft, and it’s infuriating how much I adore that sound. “Admit you enjoy it,” he says, his lips quirking up into a smirk. The kind that makes my knees feel like jelly even when I’m sitting.

“Debatable,” I mutter, but I don’t pull away when his fingers brush my collarbone this time, making my skin prickle.

“Oh please!” Mia snorts, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s talking to me. “You’ve been having a stink face the entire time, like a spoiled fucking princess you are.”

“I’m sorry,” I respond venomously, narrowing my eyes. “Am I ruining the mood for you to fight with your boyfriend?”

“She’s drunk. Just ignore her.” Chase nuzzles into my neck, placing soft, wet kisses along my throat. I know he’s trying to distract me, but Mia’s words stick, getting to me.

“I’m not a spoiled princess,” I mumble, more to myself than anyone else. “I just don’t like winter. Sue me.”

“You’remyprincess, though,” Chase butts in playfully.

Can he be any cheesier?

“My beautiful, cranky princess,” he adds, with that Golden Retriever energy of his.

I elbow his side, trying to act annoyed but failing miserably.

“What?” he teases, gently nipping on my skin before looking up at me. “You look so good with your stink face on.”

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