Chapter 236: The Cold Iron Drills: Klaus’s POV

The first real winter storm hit the valley like a steel hammer.

By midnight, thick flakes of dry snow were blowing sideways through the gorge, burying the gravel road and piling against the oak timber gate.

The wind howled through the narrow granite pass, rattling the heavy iron lamps hanging along the parapet walkway.

I stood on the high ledge above the gatehouse, my heavy wolf-skin cloak pulled tight around my broad shoulders. Down in the snow-dusted yard, Valerius was leading six shivering recruits through late-night shield drills.

Their wooden guards clattered in the dark as they took turns bracing against the freezing wind.

"Hold the line!" Valerius bellowed, his voice raw from shouting. "The Triad will not wait for sunny weather to cut your throats! Reset those feet!"

I turned away from the yard, my boots crunching softly on the thin ice covering the stone floor.

At the far end of the ledge, shadowed by a jagged overhang of granite, a single dark figure crouched near the outer wooden railing.

Zoey had been on watch for four straight hours. She was dressed in her dark leather armor, a heavy wool shawl wrapped around her neck, her short hunting bow held loose in her left hand.

Her shoulders were trembling.

I walked over, my heavy footsteps muffled by the gathering snow. She did not hear me until my shadow fell across her bow.

She started, her right hand darting instantly toward the iron dagger at her belt. When her dark eyes met mine, her fingers relaxed, but she stayed where she was, her chin tucked low into her collar.

"You are supposed to be off watch," I said, my voice low and flat against the roar of the wind. "Garos was sent up to replace you twenty minutes ago."

"Garos has a cough," Zoey said. Her jaw was clamped so tight her teeth clicked together on the words. "And he cannot see a horse three feet in front of his nose in a snowfall. I am staying."

"Look at your hands, Zoey."

She stiffened. She tried to pull her right hand back into her leather sleeve, but I moved faster.

I reached out, my thick leather glove closing firmly around her wrist. I dragged her hand out into the pale moonlight. Her bare fingers were blue at the tips, stiff and swollen from the biting frost. Her hunting bow sat unstrung on the ledge because her hands were too numb to bend the wood.

"You cannot even pull a string," I said, my thumb pressing against her freezing palm. Her skin was like ice against my glove. "If Vane’s stragglers came up that road right now, you would be useless."

"I am not useless," she snapped, her eyes flashing dark and dangerous as she tried to yank her arm back. Her pride was as sharp as her iron arrowheads. "Release me, Klaus."

I did not let go. In fact, my grip tightened, pulling her two inches closer.

"You are freezing to death because you are too arrogant to go inside," I growled, stepping straight into her space until her back pressed flat against the rough, freezing granite wall.

The wind whipped her loose black hair across her cheeks. She glared up at me, her chest heaving under her leather vest, her lips parted as she drew in a sharp, ragged breath. But under her defiance, I could feel the violent shivering wracking her small frame.

Without another word, I unbuckled the heavy iron clasp of my wolf-skin cloak.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice losing its sharp edge as I stepped even closer, shutting out the biting wind with my body.

"Shut up," I muttered.

I opened the heavy, fur-lined cloak and wrapped it completely around her shoulders, enclosing her inside the thick, dark fur with me.

The heat radiating off my body hit her like a furnace. My chest pressed against hers, the hard iron plates of my breastplate brushing the leather of her vest. I pulled her hands off her bow and tucked them straight inside my wool shirt, pressing her frozen fingers against the warm skin of my ribs.

Zoey gasped, a sharp, ragged sound catching in her throat.

She froze instantly. Her eyes went wide, fixed on mine from just inches away. I could feel the sudden, frantic thud of her heart against my chest, echoing my own pulse as my Alpha heat flooded into her cold skin.

"Klaus..." she breathed. Her breath came out as a pale cloud of steam, brushing warm against my neck.

"Keep your hands there," I ordered, my voice dropping an octave, low and dark. My right arm wrapped around her waist, holding her locked against my side so no draft could slip under the heavy fur. "If you lose those fingers, I lose my best scout."

"Is that all I am to you?" she asked softly.

Her voice had lost its cold, hard bite. It was quiet, vulnerable, and closer than it had ever been. She did not pull her hands away from my ribs. Instead, her stiff fingers flexed slightly, digging gently into my shirt as warmth began to return to her skin.

I looked down at her face.

Her dark eyes were wide, reflecting the pale moon, searching my face with an intensity that made the blood in my veins run hot. Her lips were soft, trembling slightly—not from the cold anymore, but from the electric line of tension stretched taut between us.

My hand stayed resting on her waist, my thumb pressing through the leather into the curve of her hip. I could feel every breath she took, every small shiver that ran through her body as she leaned fractionally into my chest, soaking in my heat.

"You know you are more than that," I said, my voice rough.

For three long seconds, neither of us moved. The wind roared through the pines, the snow blew across the high parapet, but inside the heavy wolf-skin cloak, it felt like the rest of the world had completely vanished. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, then flicked back up to my eyes, her pulse fluttering wild against my bare skin.

It took every ounce of my self-control not to reach up, cup her jaw with my hand, and pull her mouth to mine right there against the stone wall.

Zoey let out a slow, shaking breath, her forehead leaning forward until it rested lightly against the iron center of my collarbone.

"Your heart is beating fast, Alpha," she murmured, her fingers warming against my ribs.

"Because I have a stubborn scout who refuses to obey orders," I grunted, though my arm tightened around her waist, refusing to yield an inch of space.

We stood there in the dark for ten full minutes, wrapped together against the winter storm, until the blue tint left her fingers and her shivering finally stopped. When she finally pulled her hands back from my shirt, her skin was hot, her cheeks flushed red.

She stepped out from under the heavy cloak, though her eyes stayed locked on mine for a long, heavy moment before she picked up her bow.

"Garos can have the watch," she said softly, her voice smooth and warm now.

"Go to the gatehouse," I told her, my voice dark and steady. "Get near the hearth. I will be down shortly."

She nodded once, her eyes lingering on my face before she turned and walked down the wooden stairs into the courtyard.

I stood on the ledge alone, the freezing wind hitting my chest where her hands had just been, my pulse still hammering hard against my iron plate.