Page 2 of Rescued by the Alpha

The man shook his head as he chuckled. “You city folk. Damn if you don’t beat all. Always takin’ adventures you ain’t got no idea how to prepare for.”

Elam pursed his lips. He wondered if the man standing before him had ever lived at Everest base camp for two months or photographed polar bears from an ice cave. He probably thought a skinny guy with a small build couldn’t handle the great outdoors and that his pale skin meant he’d never seen much of anything outside of a computer screen. Elam supposed he couldn’t blame the guy.

It’s not as if the old man knew he’d been staying inside and nursing a broken heart instead of doing his weekly hikes. Or accepting any new assignments. But he wasn’t interested in macho posturing.

Getting safely to his new place as quickly as possible was of more interest.

“Well, I guess I’d better get moving then.” He’d planned on topping off his tank, but it seemed as though the smarter move would be to proceed to the cabin without any further delay. “Thanks for the head’s up. After I’ve settled in and the weather’s less dodgy, I’ll keep you in mind if I need any gas or supplies.”

The man appeared sheepish. “Hey, don’t take no offense. I got a big mouth and don’t know when to shut it. Listen, you need anything or have any questions about things ‘round here, I’m your man. Be careful, all right?”

Elam nodded, a portion of tension leaving his body. “Cool. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

As a final gesture of good faith, Elam purchased a twenty-ounce bottle of cola—that he figured was better than no caffeine at all—along with a granola bar.

Once he was back in the truck, the unrelenting wind doing its best to keep him from reaching the vehicle, he decided to keep his knit cap on, at least until he’d warmed up some more. He hadn’t taken

off his fingerless gloves either, and as cold and shivery as he was, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever want to.

As Elam fired up the engine, the first splotches of snow landed on his windshield. He let out a small groan. I hope to hell I make it there before this hits full force. Somehow, the black clouds of doom threatening the skies up ahead didn’t fill him with much optimism. Elam pulled back onto the two-lane highway and focused on getting to his destination. The snow was still light enough that he didn’t need chains. His major concern was the back road to the cabin. The leasing company had warned him it didn’t get plowed very often, and that if he got stuck on the wrong side of it, he wouldn’t be able to get in until someone with a plow could be located. A snow blower was available for him to use at the house, but it wouldn’t do shit for him if he wasn’t already there.

Elam kept an eye on the mile markers, and when he reached one seventy-five, he let out a long sigh. Awesome. The access road he needed was the next right, it was still dusk and the snow had only accumulated a couple inches. If his luck held, he might make it all the way there without needing to put on chains. Not in the mood for that right now.

After only a few miles, the storm decided to show him who was boss with an unrelenting onslaught of snow flurries. As much as he didn’t want to face it, his only way forward or back was to use chains. Elam didn’t have time to ponder whether he should’ve stayed in Anchorage after all or listened to the old man at the store. He needed to get moving or he’d be in serious trouble.

After putting on his emergency flashers, he braced himself for the conditions by zipping up his down jacket, wrapping his scarf back around his neck and covering his fingers. The breath was knocked out of him as he dropped from the truck and into the rapidly deepening snow, the freezing wind swirling around him and peppering his face with stinging bits of ice. He kept a hand in front of him to help shield his eyes, but he could still barely see.

Fuck. Gotta hurry.

The thought had just left his mind when he took his first swift step. His foot shot out from under him, slipping on the ice he hadn’t realized was beneath the fresh, powdery snow, his arms flailing as he desperately tried to keep from flying backwards. A sharp pain at the back of his head was all he remembered before everything went black.

* * * *

Nicolai bounded through the snow, his back legs kicking up the fresh powder as he raced back to his cabin. The storm had built to a fury in record time. He’d tracked the forecast earlier on the short wave, but when he’d shifted to try and catch some fresh rabbit before it set in, he’d smelled it on the air, the wind carrying the impending blizzard toward him like a thundering herd, warning him with electric ozone that he’d better bunker down for at least a couple days.

Another scent drew him up short. Nicolai whipped his head around, inhaling in every direction as he attempted to locate the source of the alluring smell. What the fuck. He shouldn’t be able to detect a damn thing, not when he was surrounded by raging winds and snow, a whiteout that would be deadly for almost anyone caught outside in it for too long. His saving grace—other than his wolf coat

—was his knowledge of the terrain and his shifter wolf instincts.

But not until I find out what that is. He lifted his nose to the air and inhaled again, doing a full head and body shake as he sucked in some of the flurries, the water melting down his throat and almost making him choke. Dammit. He never did that, knew better than to stick his snout up and take a deep breath in the middle of a blizzard. But he’d accomplished what he’d been hoping for. It’scoming from that direction.

Nicolai took off, leaping across the accumulating snow, his wolf guiding him toward the scent he didn’t recognize, yet neither could it be denied. It didn’t strike him as being dangerous, yet it still unnerved him. Have to hurry. As he drove himself forward, pushed himself through the tangle of brush trying to thwart him from his goal, he realized he was headed straight for the access road.

After skirting a large pile of boulders then launching over a berm that was likely left over from the solitary plow that would come through on occasion—if they were lucky—Nicolai landed with a skid in front of the headlights of a black SUV, the red flashers signaling that whoever had pulled over was in trouble.

Nicolai had to steady himself. The aroma he’d been tracking was so pungent it had made him dizzy. The scent baffled him. Not only was it something he’d never experienced, it was the first time he’d wanted to bathe himself in a smell, to roll around in it until it was all he knew.

Great. I’ve lost my mind.

As he wallowed in the scent, the direct source became clear to him. It only took him a few steps before he almost stumbled on the unconscious man, the abundant snow flurries already partially burying him. A deep ache, like a rock landing in his stomach, compelled him to paw at the snow, to keep it from continuing to cover the unmoving form.

The futility of his panic-induced actions slammed into him. The storm was only getting worse, and the man would not last the night if he didn’t get somewhere warm, or at least out of the elements.

Another terrifying thought entered his mind. What if the human lying in the snow wasn’t unconscious?

What if he was dead? Death was usually a smell that Nicolai immediately recognized, but he was so thrown off guard by the unusual scent of the man, he had to press his snout to the human’s face to be sure. The moment he breathed the man’s air he almost collapsed in relief.

Now to get him out of this fucking blizzard.