Frostbitten (21 page)

“Go hunt,” Anastasia
encouraged him, noting the way his stomach continued to growl. “Please, you
need to keep strong.”

Defiantly, Frost shook
his massive head and then stared at Anastasia’s half-finished lunch. For a
second, she thought that he was going to eat it, but instead, he used his snout
to push it toward her. From the look in his eyes, Anastasia knew that he was
strictly telling
her
to eat.

While she finished her
lunch, Anastasia wondered if his refusal to hunt was because of her. He
probably thought it would gross her out and make her see the beast instead of
the man. Of course, Anastasia would never actually think that way, but it made
her nervous that Frost wasn’t being his true werewolf self.

Deciding to deal with
this issue at a later date, Anastasia focused on a more dire concern and the
very reason why they were out here in the first place – had Frost come any
closer to finding his parents? Although it was difficult for Anastasia to
pinpoint anything while traveling at such a fast pace, it had appeared that the
woods were empty. For the most part, Anastasia was happy about that since
running into werewolf hunters was a fear she wasn’t even able to express aloud.
However, it also made her ponder just how isolated and deep in the woods they
really were.

“What’s the verdict so
far?” Anastasia finally asked, nervous to hear the answer. “Did you find any
evidence of your parents’ whereabouts?”

Frost shook his head
for the second time that day. From the way his eyes and ears lowered, Anastasia
knew that he was very distraught. She wished there was more that she could do
to help, but the problem was that she had no idea of how to go about doing such
a thing. Although Anastasia hated to admit it, this undertaking was clearly
more difficult than she’d originally thought.

“The day’s not over
yet,” Anastasia said, while placing her hand upon Frost’s paw in a comforting
manner. It was a sweet and simple gesture, but it was the best that she could
do at this moment in time. “There are so many areas where we haven’t looked,”
she continued, “and I know we’ll come across them if they’re still in...”

Anastasia was
interrupted as Frost let out a loud sneeze that shook his entire body.
Concerned, she studied him, taking particular notice of how he lay limply upon
the ground. At first she’d thought he was merely tired due to all that running,
but now she worried that it was something more.

“I hope I haven’t given
you my cold,” Anastasia said, right before he sneezed again. “Frost, I think
you’ll need to take it easy,” she added quickly, realizing that she would also
benefit from more rest.

In response, Frost got
up and encouraged Anastasia to do the same by gently pushing her with his snout.
Using their goal as a motivating factor, she stood up, retrieved both their
backpacks and then hoisted herself upon Frost. A split second later, they were
off once again, speeding through the woods in a desperate search.

Within only a few
minutes, Anastasia could tell that something had changed. It felt like Frost’s
balance was slightly off, and even scarier than that, his breathing sounded
nasally and somewhat labored. Fearing that she would fall off as his movements
became increasingly jerky, Anastasia tightened her grasp on him. She now
questioned if they’d actually be able to make it through the remainder of the
day.

CRACK...

The sound of ice
breaking around Anastasia and Frost was so sharp and sudden that it seemed to
penetrate into her very soul, ensuring that she wouldn’t soon forget the
terrifying noise. Then the next thing Anastasia knew, they were completely
submerged in water so cold that it must have been only a degree or two above
freezing. As she felt the pressure of the swiftly moving water, a strong panic
seized Anastasia, leaving her immobilized. It was this current which dragged
them deeper into the dark, unforgiving river.

Frost fought against
the flow of the river, but even with his powerful limbs, he was merely treading
water instead of
propelling
them upwards. Continuously, Anastasia smashed against him and the relentless
current. Her grasp on Frost was quickly weakening, and her lungs ached for air
since she’d never had an opportunity to take a deep breath before plunging into
the water. With the utmost urgency, Anastasia began kicking her legs and,
despite the fact that her attempts were done in vain, she refused to stop
trying. However, she knew that the course of the river was too powerful for
her, and if Frost couldn’t muster up more strength right now, they would surely
be swept under the ice and then drown.

Please, Frost,
Anastasia thought desperately,
you have to do this.

As if somehow gaining
strength from Anastasia’s silent plea, Frost kicked harder and faster than he
likely thought possible. Slowly, they inched upwards. A few moments later, he
broke the surface, allowing them both to take a much needed gasp of air. Not
wasting any time, Frost grabbed onto the edge of the broken ice and began
ascending from the river. That’s when the familiar sound of cracking ice filled
their ears. Forced back into the water, Frost kept reaching for the edge, but
every time he tried to pull them out, it would break. Their weight was too much
for the ice to withstand, and it looked like there was no way out.

By now, Anastasia was
so cold that her whole body was almost numb. Making the situation worse were
her clothing and the backpacks, which had become excessively heavy and were
pulling her downwards. The urge to free herself of these items overwhelmed
Anastasia, yet she was helpless to do anything about it since she could hardly
even move. Her grip on Frost, as well as the fleeting moments when he surfaced
in failed attempts to escape, were the only things keeping her alive.

Although Frost must have
also been exhausted, it was apparent that he was far from ready to give up.
With a powerful lunge, he surfaced again, but this time he clung onto the ice,
continuously moving forward a millisecond before it broke. Frost’s quick
movements made it impossible for Anastasia to maintain her grasp on him any
longer, and when he finally pulled himself out to relative safety, she wasn’t
with him.

From under the water,
Anastasia looked up to see Frost peering down at her. Despite her heavy eyes
and blurred vision, the expression of panic on his face was crystal clear.
Acting fast, he plunged his front leg into the water, but she was too deep for
him to reach. Ice chips splattered into the water above, causing Frost to
retreat slightly so he wouldn’t fall in.

In a final attempt to
save herself, Anastasia tried to tread water. Unfortunately, it was useless.
She could no longer feel her body and even though her mind willed her to keep
fighting, it was just too much for her. The current took Anastasia deeper until
darkness surrounded her, but somehow she’d found inner peace. She knew that she
was dying, and as she closed her eyes one last time, her mind flashed with
images of her grandparents, Chloe, her mother, and most vividly, Frost.

* * *

The delicious aroma of freshly
cooked stew filled the air, slowly easing Anastasia back to consciousness.
Gently, her eyes fluttered open to reveal that she was in an old, abandoned log
cabin. Although it was a small one room place, the cabin was lined with several
long shelves which contained a variety of jars, tools and pots and pans, all on
display and neatly categorized. It was an impressive collection that had
clearly helped to sustain a family some time ago.

As Anastasia continued
to scan the cabin, noting the dust-covered homemade furniture and numerous
strange knickknacks, her focus turned to an old-fashioned fireplace, which was
lit and being used to cook the contents of a medium-sized black pot. Frost, in
his human form, stood in front of the fireplace, stirring the stew in a tense
manner. The whole situation felt so dream-like that Anastasia momentarily
wondered if she had indeed died.

Before Anastasia could
call out to Frost, he turned around as if somehow sensing that she’d awakened.
Without saying a word, he hurried to her side and then wrapped his arms around
her. Frost’s grip on Anastasia was so strong and passionate that he didn’t need
to speak; she knew that he couldn’t be more grateful and relieved that she had
survived. For several minutes they stayed that way, lying in the bed which
Anastasia had somehow found herself in.

“I’m so sorry,” Frost
finally spoke, breaking the embrace only so he could look her in the eyes. “I
should’ve heard the water running beneath the ice. I should’ve known that we
were walking on top of the Great Rapids.” His voice cracked with overwhelming
emotion as he added slowly and angrily, “I should’ve never taken you out here.”

“There’s no way I can
be alive,” Anastasia muttered, even though she hardly felt like she was living.
Every inch of her body burned from recovering frostbite and her cold symptoms
had only worsened.

Reaching for her hand,
Frost continued to speak in an angry tone. “I went back into the water and
wouldn’t leave until you were with me. From the first day I met you, I promised
myself that I wouldn’t allow any harm to come to you, either by my own paws or
any other force. I’ve let you down, Anastasia, and now you have to return
home.”

“No,” Anastasia
protested. “You don’t have the right to make decisions for me. I’m here because
I chose to be.”

“Finding my parents
isn’t worth losing you,” Frost practically interrupted. “You’re my only
priority.”

“Shut up, Frost. This
isn’t your fault,” Anastasia began to interject. However, she couldn’t finish
her sentence as she began to cough harshly. The coughing fit passed, but she
was left with an even sorer throat which she tried to ease by gently massaging
her neck. Unfortunately, it didn’t help in the least.

Appearing concerned,
Frost quickly stood up and retrieved a bowl which sat upon a small table beside
the fire. Using an old bronze ladle, he filled the bowl with stew and then
returned to Anastasia’s side. Handing her the bowl and a spoon which matched
the ladle, he cast her a stern look.

“Eat,” Frost
instructed. “It’s just rabbit and water, but it’ll make you feel better.”

“Thanks,” Anastasia
said, before sitting up with some difficulty and then taking the bowl and
spoon. As she ate the stew, a warm sensation filled her body. With a sudden
hunger, she hastily finished her meal. “You hunted,” she commented, smiling at
Frost as he watched over her. “It’s delicious.”

“Then I guess I should
eat, too,” Frost said, smiling back at her. It was like he was saying he
understood that she accepted him, both as a man and a werewolf.

“You shouldn’t have
started that fire,” Anastasia pointed out, while Frost retrieved stew for
himself and began to eat. “Someone might see the smoke.”

“I found matches, so it
kind of seemed like fate. Besides, I needed to dry our clothes and backpacks
somehow.”

Anastasia looked down
at herself, finally realizing that she was wearing nothing other than her key
pendant necklace and a long plaid shirt which belonged to Frost. She blushed,
while thinking about the way she’d ended up in his clothing. Although Anastasia
had never been self-conscious about her body, the situation left her feeling a
little uncomfortable.

“So, you think this is
your parents’ old cabin,” Anastasia stated, wanting to change the topic.

“You should get more
sleep,” Frost advised, blatantly ignoring her comment likely because the
subject was too painful. “I’m still concerned about you.”

Anastasia looked out
the small window to see that it was dark outside. However, it was impossible to
tell if night really had fallen or if they were so deep in the woods that
sunlight couldn’t penetrate through the surrounding trees. Regardless,
Anastasia wondered how long she’d been unconscious.

“I’ll put this outside
to cool,” Frost said, proceeding to pour the remainder of the rabbit stew into
a smaller pot which had a lid. “We can have it for breakfast.”

As Frost passed by
Anastasia, he suddenly swayed unsteadily. She hurried to his side, but by that
time he had regained his balance. As Anastasia studied Frost, she noticed the
beads of sweat that had formed upon his forehead and also the very pale color
of his skin. Then, as quickly as his unsteadiness had passed, the sweating and
paleness disappeared.

“Frost, what’s wrong
with you?” Anastasia asked with wide, terrified eyes.

“Please, go back to
bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Obediently, Anastasia
returned to bed, where she waited anxiously for him. When Frost re-entered the
cabin, he said nothing and instead retrieved logs from a woodpile that had
likely been stacked by his parents. He then placed them in the fire, creating
sparks that looked similar to little red fireflies.

“Why are you acting so
strange?” Anastasia demanded, unable to take the silence any longer.

After a deep sigh that
seemed to release his pent-up anger, Frost sat gently next to Anastasia. “This
may have been all for nothing,” he began. “I never get sick, but somehow I’ve
caught your cold. I thought I could carry on, but that’s obviously not the
case. My senses are blocked – I can’t hear, smell or track like I usually do.
I’m useless out here.”