Noah knelt over her, one knee planted in the snow, his large hand gripping her shoulder. He had saved her, but as he looked down at the woman freezing in the snow, the anger in his eyes warred with the mercy in his hands.
Cinder’s vision swam. The world was a blur of gray skies, white snow, and the dark, imposing silhouette of the man hovering over her. Her mind, ravaged by hypothermia, desperately tried to make sense of her surroundings. She saw the dark hair, the broad shoulders, the way he moved with a fluid, lethal grace.
"Elias?" she whispered, her voice barely a cracked breath. "Elias... is it you?"
The name hung in the air, heavier than the snow falling around them.
Noah’s expression hardened, turning to stone. The frantic energy of the rescue vanished, replaced by a cold, simmering rage that rivaled the winter chill. He leaned closer, his dark eyes boring into hers, ensuring she saw his face clearly.
"No," his voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "I am Noah Red Elk. Elias was my brother."
Cinder let out a weak, agonizing sob. The memory hit her like a physical blow, worse than the cold. Elias. The kind, gentle man who had trusted her.
Above them, nailed to the very pine tree Cinder had been tied to, was a crude wooden plank. Carved into it with jagged, hateful letters were the words: INDIAN LOVER.
Noah followed her gaze up to the sign. His jaw tightened. He stood up, towering over her. With a sudden, explosive burst of violence, he ripped the heavy wooden sign from the bark, the rusty nails shrieking in protest. He threw it to the ground and drove the heel of his heavy leather boot into the wood, snapping it in two.
He turned back to her, his chest heaving under the wolf fur. "Elias died because of the road you showed the soldiers," he spat, the words dripping with venom. "They used your information. They ambushed him. They butchered him in the mud, Cinder. And then, when they were done with him, they turned on you."
Cinder squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners and freezing instantly on her cheeks. "I didn't know," she rasped. "I swear... I didn't know what they would do."
"Ignorance does not wash away blood," Noah replied coldly.
He looked down at her. By all rights of vengeance, he should leave her here. She was the catalyst for his brother's murder. The townsfolk and the soldiers had left her out here to freeze as punishment for associating with his people, a cruel, ironic twist of fate. Leaving her to the winter would be poetic justice.
But Noah was not a murderer. He was a hunter, a protector, and the last of his bloodline. He looked at her crimson dress, soaked through and freezing solid, and knew she had less than an hour before her heart stopped completely.
With a heavy sigh that morphed into a growl of frustration, Noah bent down. He scooped her up into his arms, lifting her against his chest as easily as if she were a child. The heat radiating from his wolf-fur coat was the most intense thing Cinder had ever felt.
"I am not saving you for you," Noah said to the wind as he began to walk, carrying her away from the tree of execution. "I am saving you because Elias would not want your ghost haunting his woods."
Cinder couldn't reply. She buried her face into the rough wool of his navy tunic, succumbing to the overwhelming darkness.
The journey was a descent into a localized hell. The blizzard, which had been a mere scattering of flakes, intensified into a howling whiteout. The wind whipped through the trees, screaming like a wounded animal, driving sharp needles of ice into any exposed skin.