Free Bending Steele by Sadie Hart

heavily. It matted into his fur and
stuck in balls between his toes.
    They pressed on, plowing through the heavy
snow banks. His heavy paws sank easily through the soft ground, his
belly dragging along the frozen top. But even as a leopard he
couldn’t catch her scent. How the hell had she gotten so far, so
fast? And the killer too? Hexe paused, staring out into the
darkness. He could see better, but even in this form he couldn’t
see much through the storm.
    Hexe twisted around, trying to orient himself
in the swirl of the storm. They’d been out here for at least an
hour, probably more, and the blizzard showed no signs of letting
up. So far they’d been lucky not to stagger off the edge of a
cliff, but they couldn’t continue to press their luck. Guilt ate at
his gut as he stared out into the darkness, the dim silhouettes of
trees shrouded by blurs of swirling white.
    At this rate they’d be lucky to find a place
to hunker down and wait the storm out.
    “We need to head back. Before we can’t see
anything at all,” Steele said, her voice rough. “Damn it.”
    Hexe growled, hating the fact that they were
both thinking it. He wasn’t the kind of man to leave a wounded
woman in the middle of the Himalayas. He wasn’t the type to just
walk away. His lips curled back in a silent snarl, but he turned
into Steele.
    He didn’t bother to shift back. Didn’t bother
to tell her the obvious. They might not be able to find their way
back to his cabin. Instead, Hexe struggled down his tracks, trying
to scent their fast-fading trail. Inside, his anger clawed at
him.
    He was leaving her. To the storm, to a
fucking killer.
    What kind of King did that make him? What
kind of man did that make him?
    A coward.
    “Fuck,” Steele said, fury riding along the
edges of her voice. She let out a frustrated scream, her grip
tightening in his fur.
    Hexe paused, waiting for her to still at his
side before he pressed on, but he could hear the agonized rip of
her voice in his head, an echo that wouldn’t stop replaying. They
were giving up. He leaned one furred shoulder into her leg and gave
a soft huff, knowing she probably wouldn’t hear him, but she could
feel his body pressed against hers.
    Together they pressed on, Hexe struggling to
follow what was left of their trail, but bitter cold and the heavy
snowfall made it damn near impossible. The frozen gusts burned like
shards of glass down his throat as he scented the hopeless trail.
Shit. He wasn’t about to die out here. Muscles bunching under his
skin Hexe strained forward, hoping instinct would guide him home,
when he caught the sharp tang of blood in the air.
    Followed by the rancid rot of silver.
    Heart pounding, Hexe shifted back, one arm
flailing out to catch Steele’s. “She’s here. She’s close.”
    He spun, jerking Steele with him. They had to
be right on top of her if he could smell her in this weather.
Inhaling, his throat burned but he could still smell the blood. She
had to be right fucking here and he couldn’t see her. She was right
under their noses and—
    Steele stumbled, collapsing into the snow.
Hexe started to haul her up when her hand closed around his arm and
she yanked him down. “She’s right here. Shit. She’s so cold.”
    Hexe could barely see Steele through the
darkness, just the faint outline of her shadow but he felt around
the ground until he could feel the prone woman under his hands. Her
skin was icy to the touch, frozen. Frantic, he ran his hands up the
length of her arm, over her shoulder, to the hollow of her throat.
“I don’t feel a pulse.”
    His heart slammed in his chest and he jerked
his head up, nostrils flaring wide. Was the killer close? Every
muscle down his back went rigid, instantly prepping for a fight.
But no gunshot sliced through the howl of the wind.
    “She’s not breathing,” Steele said, her voice
a hollow whisper. “Damn it.”
    By the rotting stench that filled the air,
Hexe knew she was gone. The silver had