Kayla Gabriel - Winter Lodge Wolves Complete Boxed Set

It was then that Penny noticed that she’d stopped shivering. She felt strangely numb and tingly, a little warm in fact. For a second, her suddenly sleepy brain thought that it was the igloo effect, that she’d cocooned herself in the snow and now it was protecting her.

The voice of reason in the back of her mind disagreed. She needed to get up and move before she fell asleep. Only, she was so comfortable…

She heard a soft, chuffing sound. Penny opened her eyes, surprised that they’d been closed. Above her, she saw a glorious black dog. No, not a dog. It was at least four feet tall, its fur sleek and dark against the snow. And its eyes, the brightest spring green… they seemed to glow.

The wolf looked down at her, seeming concerned. It made Penny’s lips twitch, wondering what kind of allegories her snow-drunk brain was making up now. Then she closed her eyes with a sigh, drifting off.

Harlan Craig was having a bad day. No, actually a bad week. Or was it a bad year?

What did you call it when you were hauling ass through a thick layer of snow, carrying an unconscious woman, and trying not to get shot? Or shot a second time, to be specific.

The wound on Harlan’s arm was nothing major, but it did hurt like a bitch. Not quite as bad as shifting, all those bones breaking and reforming from human to wolf, but… still.

A thunderous crack rang through the woods, echoing in the freezing air. Harlan slammed his back against a tree, panting for breath and trying to determine the direction of the shooter. 4 o’clock, he was pretty sure.

Harlan closed his eyes for a second, listening intently. Even with his heightened senses, he couldn’t hear anyone moving around. The hunters must be heading away from the main lodge, no doubt fanning out to cover more ground.

Please, please let them be doing that behind Harlan, not ahead where his cabin lay. A single glance down showed that the girl’s lips were white with cold, and there wasn’t a damn thing Harlan could do about it out here in the open. He needed blankets and hot water bottles and… fuck, soup? Thoughts banged around in his brain like panicked, trapped birds, desperate to find somewhere to land.

Harlan waited one more beat before springing forward again. Thankfully, the woods were silent as he sprinted toward his cabin at full speed. In the back of his mind, Harlan couldn’t help but think that his boot camp instructors would be proud. Military drills had prepared him for exactly an event like this, though no one could have foreseen the need for it back here in the States.

On top of the guys in the woods, hunting Harlan and his friends, on top of getting shot, now there was the girl.

Like Harlan’s life wasn’t hard enough.

Like he hadn’t literally been through hell and back fighting in Afghanistan and Syria.

Like he hadn’t then been bitten and turned into a fucking werewolf by one of his best friends. Enslaved to the moon’s whims, at times no longer the master of his own fucking body.

Like he hadn’t consequently been stuck out here with his two nearly-insane best friends, the only other werewolves he knew. With no other company to speak of for a year straight, nothing to do but slowly repair the ski lodge and grounds and try not to fight with Chase and Paxton over who of the three of them was the most at fault for all of it.

Nope. That wasn’t enough. On top of all that, she had to arrive on the scene, fall right into his lap. Sexy little redhead with big blue eyes and heart-stopping freckles, stumbling right into a live firefight between Harlan, Paxton, and the Hunters, almost getting shot.

Getting Harlan shot, actually.

He grimaced at the pain in his shoulder as he shifted the slight woman in his arms. He’d taken a little buck shot and flying bark in the upper arm, some ricochet from a nearby tree. He was bleeding freely now, and the girl’s face was perilously close to getting bloody.

He focused on the pain as he booked it back to his cabin, trusting Pax to draw the Hunters off in a merry chase across the most rugged parts of Winter Pass. It was hard country out here; if the wolves were lucky, it might actually kill a few of the Hunters, give their prey some peace.

Yes. Better to focus on death and gore, what Harlan knew best. Anything was better than looking at the girl, feeling the way his pulse raced, listening to his wolf bristle and whine at the sight of her.

Ours , his wolf seemed to say.

No fucking way , was Harlan’s response. No matter how hot she was, he couldn’t even consider bringing a woman into the shit show that was his life at the moment. That was a whole world of bullshit he didn’t need, no matter how cold the nights got up here at Winter Pass…

Harlan made it to the door of his cabin, heart in his throat. When he swung open the door, his stomach dropped. A tall, dark-outfitted figure stood in the middle of the cabin’s simple living room, waiting.

When Paxton turned to face him, Harlan groaned.

“What the fuck, Pax. Aren’t you supposed to be leading the hunters around by their noses?” Harlan said, stamping his feet to shake off some of the snow clinging to his legs and boots.

He stepped over and laid the girl out on the couch, then stripped off his damp coat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me? Yet you’re here, with a female. And here I thought I was the ladies’ man of the Triad,” Pax said, arching a brow. The Triad was a reference to the nickname Chase had drunkenly come up with for their group once they’d been through basic training together and somehow ended up in the same unit.

“Is that what they’re calling man whores these days?” Harlan asked, moving to unzip the girl’s coat.

“Getting right to it, then?” Pax grunted. A joke, but the teasing implication made Harlan growl.

“She’s hypothermic, asshole. I need to get her dry and warm. Make yourself useful, go get some blankets from the closet in my bedroom.”

Harlan went back to work. He freed her from her jacket, surprised when a canvas bag fell out of her jacket. He picked it up and set it aside, then got her coat off her. She didn’t so much as twitch as he moved her limbs around.

He touched her shirt and pants, finding them icy and wet. He frowned, realizing that he needed to strip her down all the way. A quiet, unwelcome voice told him that he needed to preserve her privacy as much as possible.

She was so small, so frail lying there. Harlan wasn’t about to take advantage, and he wasn’t going to let Pax get an eyeful either. But how?

Drawing a thick fleece blanket off the couch, Harlan half-covered her body, managing to shield her freezing, naked body from his gaze. It was awkward, made doubly so when Pax returned and watched Harlan work. Harlan could almost hear Pax smirking over his shoulder, laughing at his ridiculous attempt at valor.

Even worse, now that her clothes were off, the scent of honeyed apples was rolling off her skin, filling the air in the cabin, invading Harlan’s senses. What the hell kind of shampoo or soap made a woman smell that good?

“Give me the damn blankets,” Harlan said, holding out a hand.

Pax handed them over without a word. Harlan spent a couple of minutes working one under her body without touching her too much, then swaddled the rest of them around her until she looked like a fleece and wool burrito. Everything was covered except a little of her face, enough to breathe with ease.

“This is easily the worst decision you’ve ever made,” Pax commented when Harlan stood to survey his work. “I mean, other than coming to Winter Pass in the first place.”

Harlan shot him a look.

“I remember you being the one who thought we needed to come here and check on Chase, make sure he hadn’t gone off the deep end,” Harlan said. It was an old argument, half a joke and half an accusation.