At least they didn’t smirk at her, as if this had all been some kind of cruel joke. Could cats smirk? No, they appeared to be more worried than smug. “I-I don’t know what to say.” Maybe she was still sleeping.
Maybe this was all some kind of twisted nightmare.
Shifters weren’t real. They belonged in novels, in Hollywood movies, not in real life.
The cold air in the room made her shiver, and she knew she wasn’t dreaming. She wished she’d had time to grab her coat. Maybe the shelter had a blanket.
We won’t harm you. The voice was Axel’s, easy to recognize, even if she hadn’t exactly heard the words spoken aloud.
She shook her head. Dakota knew that. Deep down inside, she didn’t fear for her life, at least not from them. Whether they would ever get out of this hole in the ground was another matter altogether.
She watched Axel change back to a man and noticed the look of worry remained even after he was human again. Concern marred his brow while he straightened his clothes into some semblance of order once more. She was unsure of its cause until…
We’ve never shared our secret before, Gunnar said inside her mind, something she was sure she’d never get used to. But his words struck something inside her.
“Never?” Though she asked, Axel’s slight nod was all the confirmation she needed. Their message was clear. They’d not only shown great trust in her, but they’d also protected her during the avalanche. Gunnar had made sure she was safe first before going after his brother, his own flesh and blood. What if he hadn’t made it in time?
She shuddered at that unwelcome thought, looked at Gunnar and held out her hand. He slowly eased forward to nuzzle her palm. “You changed to save me.”
The cat purred.
She dared a smile. “That’s so weird.”
“We’re not out of the woods just yet,” Axel said, drawing her attention away from Falke…uh…Gunnar.
“I won’t betray your trust,” she declared, wanting them to know that much, regardless of what happened next, even if they died in this hole without ever again seeing the light of day.
He held her gaze for a long moment. “We believe you, Dakota. It’s not that. I just mean that we’re still in danger.” Axel headed for the ladder to the overhead hatch, the only way in or out of their shelter-turned-underground-prison. “We need to get topside, see what kind of damage we’re dealing with.”
“But…”
He paused and looked back at her, waiting.
“Um, nothing.” She didn’t want to jinx him with her fears that the avalanche wiped out the cabin and buried them beneath a mountain of snow. The roar had been so loud, and combined with the other sounds…
She shuddered, envisioning the snapping of evergreens and the destruction of the cabin.
Axel shoved the hatch. It flew open with surprising ease, which caused a relieved laugh to burst from her lungs.
“Oh, thank God!” Smiling, she climbed to her feet and quickly made her way toward the ladder.
Axel cleared the last rung, turned and asked, “Can you hand me the lantern?”
“Oh, sure.” She grabbed the lamp and passed it up to him, and then climbed out of the shelter into a darkened—but surprisingly intact—cabin. A broad grin creased her face.
Gunnar leaped out of the shelter with ease and immediately made his way over to Axel’s backpack.
Axel set the lamp down and dug out a shirt and some pants, which he handed to the cougar. With the clothes in his mouth, the mountain lion headed for the bathroom.
Be right back.
Dakota shook her head. “This all seems so surreal.”
Gunnar pawed the door closed, and she turned to see Axel frowning.
“What?”
Staring not at her but the windows, he lifted the lamp once more, walked over to the front door, which was ajar. He nudged it open farther, and she followed.
He stepped out onto the porch and held the lamp aloft.
She froze just inside the doorway. They were surrounded by a wall of snow and debris. The extended roof of the porch had sheltered the door enough for Axel to open it, but a lot of snow covered the wooden planks of the porch itself.
He bent down to pick up a package of frozen sausages from a scattered pile of logs and snow.
Dakota’s heart lodged firmly in her throat. She glanced back inside the cabin. Without the lamp, it was dark as night, yet she knew it was around ten in the morning. That was when it occurred to her, when reality sank in and her earlier relief vanished. The cabin had been dark because all the windows were covered. They were buried. Under how much snow?
She looked up at the cathedral ceiling, at the loft.
Could this old cabin hold up under a mountain of snow?
Trapped. Not underground, but still trapped nonetheless. How long would it take them to shovel their way out?
“Fuck.”
She looked back at Axel, but he was staring past the open door. Dakota stepped out onto the porch behind him and looked around. The overhang had caved in on one end. Her heart began to beat again, this time too hard.
Buried alive. A snow tomb. Won’t be found until spring thaw. Her breaths grew shallow and her vision blurred a bit.
Axel spun around and grabbed her shoulder with one hand, bending his knees to look her in the face.
“Hey. Deep breaths, honey. We’re okay.”
She pulled away from him and went back inside.
Pacing to the kitchen and back, she tried to calm herself. She looked up at the ceiling again, though she could barely see it through the dark.
“Dakota.” Axel didn’t quite shout, but it was close.
He stepped inside the cabin again.
She stopped pacing and met his eyes in the light of the kerosene lamp. “What?”
“This house was built to withstand avalanches.
We’re okay. Our great-grandfather knew what he was doing. The building’s stood strong for almost a century.”
The bathroom door opened, and Gunnar came out.
God, that was even creepier. Two brothers. Two cat-men. Buried alive with two freaking cats!
Hold it together, Dakota, she told herself.
“What now?” she asked, needing a plan. Always best to have a plan, right? She wasn’t a spur of the moment type woman. The one time she was adventurous—coming up to this cabin—and look at what happened. She licked her lips.
“We still have a fire,” Gunnar said. “And a broken window.”
She made a face as she looked across the room to a blackened picture window near the ladder to the loft and noticed a pile of snow on the floor below the broken pane. “Which means what, exactly?”
Axel set the lamp on the desk and went to Gunnar, who knelt next to the fireplace. “You’re right. The smoke is escaping, so the snow didn’t cover the chimney.” He looked up. “Less than twenty feet, then.”
“Too bad Great-granddad didn’t put an escape hatch in the loft.” Gunnar sighed. “I think there’s a roll of plastic sheeting in the storage. Let’s get the window covered before we lose too much heat.”
“How long?” she asked, getting the strong feeling they were ignoring her.
“Three days, tops,” Axel said as he picked up the lamp and headed for the door, still open, in the floor.
“Most likely a lot sooner.”
Gunnar stood up and came toward her. The only light now that Axel was in the storage room came from the very low fire. She stepped back and bumped into the countertop. He stopped walking and put his hands in his jeans pockets. Damn, those jeans fit him well, even though they were Axel’s. They looked so damn much alike it was eerie. Sure, she’d seen identical twins before, but ones that looked so much alike as adults weren’t that common.