Twenty Six year old Blake Hunter is the Alpha of the largest pack in the region. Finding his mate is the last thing on his mind.
But, in the midst of dealing with uninvited relations, aspiring future Lunas and increasing rogue attacks on his easter...
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When Hannah opened her eyes, the familiar dreamscape greeted her like an old friend.
The ethereal scene glowed – a white backdrop of dazzling winter beauty that seemed to hover between the warmth of life and the chill of death. A limbo for her scattered thoughts and missing memories and the hunting ground for all her greatest fears.
Even in her sleep, she let out a muffled sigh of exasperation.
The ground lay thick with snow, as always. The seasons never changed in the dream. The trees curled around the banks of the loch, each adorned with their own sparkling winter coats and the heavy branches creaked and groaned against the extra weight, occasionally shedding their burden with a soft thump onto the ground below.
The sound startled her, and she turned towards the source. As she peered between the trees she watched in surprise as another branch swung upwards. Suddenly free of its extra foliage, the movement made the other branches sway gently from side to side, sifting a light coating of snow onto the carpet of needles below – soft and powdery, like flour falling through a sieve. It was remarkably beautiful and strangely chilling all at the same time.
Something is different.
She cast her gaze slowly across the landscape. The icy banks of the loch lay just behind her, the thin layer of frozen water taunting her as it twinkled prettily with a nefarious innocence, begging her to set foot upon the delicate surface. Strange that it didn't lure her like it usually did and she was able to turn away with ease. Nothing stood out. She closed her eyes and concentrated.
Nothing.
No birds sang in the trees, no woodland creatures shuffled their way through the snow. Even the gentle lapping of the waters against the rocky shore had ceased, trapped under the frozen ice. Hannah could feel the unnatural silence steadily eating away at her calm. Tiny pin-pricks of alarm shot up and down her arms, and a familiar feeling of dread began to creep through her chest.
Another branch escaped its snowy prison and her eyes flew open again, startled by the heavy thud so close to where she stood. She kept her eyes carefully averted from the shore on the opposite side, she’d witnessed the horrors on the other side too many times already.
What is different?
An icy chill radiated up her legs, carried by the smooth stones beneath her feet – a uniquely wintery sensation, both numbing and painful at the same time. She wriggled her bare toes and wondered vaguely if all dreams held a similar lack of warmth... and a similar lack of common sense. Her thin cotton dress, so ridiculously inappropriate for the weather, wrapped itself around her legs, caught by a light but steady breeze, exposing far too much bare skin to the elements.
A heavy, leaden sensation flowed upwards from her ankles, instilling an overwhelming feeling of lethargy through her muscles. It pinned her firmly to the spot, preventing her from leaving the rocky shore. Her frustration grew.
