Free Undertow: Building Sanctuary, Book Two by Moira Rogers

his healing, which meant the bruises he’d earned getting them safely to shore would certainly be healed by morning. One look out the window, however, put to rest any ideas he’d had about braving the storm in search of more firewood. The wind battering the cabin walls showed no signs of abating and, even under the relative shelter of the trees, snow accumulated with impressive speed.
    It would be a few days at least before Guy could risk taking his boat to the mainland. The island Victor and Simone had ended up on was just enough off the easiest course that rescuers from Breckenridge weren’t likely to find them without magic. A trip to Searsport, then, and a phone call to Slim, who would have returned to Boston by now. Guy would realize they’d left the morning of the storm, and then…
    Magic might be their only hope of being found before spring. At least their wizard would be highly motivated. Not the most pleasant thought, but Victor pushed down jealousy and possessiveness in favor of practicality—and protectiveness. It didn’t matter who got the job done, as long as Simone was returned to safety. Whole. Happy.
    His.
    Victor’s fingers tightened on the window frame until the wood creaked under his punishing grip. Not his. And somehow he’d find a way to remember that.

Chapter Six
    The sun passed its zenith and began to sink in the west. Simone and Victor had spent the morning and afternoon of the second day trying to prepare the small cabin for a stay of indeterminate length, but they’d ended up snapping and fighting more often than not, even after their tentative truce.
    It had to be the pull of the moon in her blood. It left her with immediate, unthinking reactions that were more animal than human, and her wolf wasn’t comfortable with Victor’s. They shared a bond, but it didn’t hold the same ease she shared with the rest of the pack, all because they’d been too busy struggling not to give in to the greater intimacy they both desired. And uneasy wolves in their situation usually ended that wariness in one of two ways—sex or violence.
    Fucking or fighting.
    Victor hefted the rock he’d been using as a makeshift hammer and held out a hand. “Nail?”
    She passed him one of the nails he’d pried from a chair. “Do you need another strip of wool?”
    He stretched the fabric they’d salvaged from the wreck tight against the wall and nodded. “This is the least sheltered window.”
    And they couldn’t spend all their time as wolves, especially her. When there was no moon, she could barely shift even if she had to. “How well-built is the other cabin?”
    “It looked less sturdy than this one, but it did have a lean-to with firewood. Some of it might be drier than what we have here.”
    Worth checking, though maybe not tonight. It wasn’t yet five, but the moon had already risen in the sky. If the gentle magic pulsing through her body felt like a flame, then Victor’s must have been like a wildfire. “We’ll have to stop soon.”
    “I know.” He drove the nail through fabric, wood and wall with three swift blows, the hard muscles of his arm and shoulder straining against his shirt. “I can’t hold on much longer.”
    Her first thought was to soothe him with her touch, but then she remembered that such a thing would only rile him further. “Do you mind if I get a head start?”
    He shook his head, then thrust out a hand without looking at her. “Let me have the last few nails. I’ll finish this up.”
    His control was clearly tenuous, and it made her feel better about running out on him. “I’ll stay close,” she promised, backing toward the door.
    “No—” The rock hit the floor with a thump, his shoulders going tight. “Change in here. Please.”
    A growl escaped before she could stop it. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
    “You’re vulnerable while you’re trying to change. If you’re not staying in here, I’m going out there.”
    She was more vulnerable near