Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3)

He watched as she used her gift on Creed; saw him shudder with relief at the peace she left in her empath’s wake. She knew what she was doing. She chose to use her gift on him knowing it would cause her to weaken, if not pass out from exertion, just as it had every time before.

Cole felt the churning of acid in his stomach. Now he wanted to vomit as he watched Creed hold the girl he loved, nuzzling her with kisses and murmuring in her ear.

He stayed until he saw her regain consciousness, telling himself he just needed to be sure she was all right before he left.

When she stirred awake, the first thing she did was wrap her arms around Creed and curl into his arms.

Crushed, Cole turned and walked silently back to the house. His mind was clouded with anguish.

Meg and Creed.

There was always something he couldn’t compete with there. Something Creed had that drew her in.

Cole brushed the moisture from his eyes, stepped into the house, crammed his hands deeply into the pockets of his jeans, and made a beeline for his father’s study. His mind was racing with what he’d just seen and all he could think to do was try to stop the images of Meg in Creed’s arms. The ache in his chest hurt so badly, he felt like his heart was being removed with a rusted, dull knife.

The world seemed to tip on its axis by the time he made it across the threshold into the study. A piece of furniture sat innocently in the corner of the room. It was a beautiful piece; even Cole appreciated the woodwork. Shaped like a globe—old world, and intricate in its scrolling art—it opened to reveal a hidden bar his dad kept fully stocked.

He nuzzled her neck.

He had seen his father unlatch the hidden lid before and now his hand reached of its own volition to the latch. He lifted the lid. There sat a gently sloshing assortment of alcoholic decadence. Cole reached in and chose a small bottle, knowing he would have to hide it in his pocket for the next part of his plan to work. Having no experience with liquor, he didn’t even realize what he grabbed, but after twisting the cap off and taking a whiff, he was morbidly satisfied that it smelled strong enough to make him want to cough. Perfect, he thought.

The sunlight glistened off the dust floating in the air around them as he held her in his arms.

He heard the voices from the living room, but his mind couldn’t register what they were saying—something about a delivery truck and the Facility. Cole didn’t care. All he cared about was the keys to the SUV that had been carelessly tossed onto the tray on the kitchen counter beside his dad’s wallet, loose change and a couple cell phones. The only thing Cole wanted was the keys. Without missing a step, he grabbed them and quietly slipped out the back door.

His arms were wrapped around her. His body pressed against her.

Once behind the wheel, he started the ignition and listened to the hum of the engine roar to life. The radio was tuned to the local Christian station. His hand jabbed at the pre-set keys, searching for anything else. Once he pulled off the long private gravel driveway and onto the first country road, he leaned forward and reached behind to his waistband, yanking the bottle of alcohol into his shaking hands.

Her small hands slid up his chest and wrapped themselves around his thick neck.

He didn’t register the tears as they slipped down his anguished face. All he wanted was what existed inside the bottle. He growled with desperation as his shaking hands fumbled with the bottle’s cap.

Creed’s thick arms held her. He held her beautiful body as if she was already his. And she let him. She wanted him.

The liquid burned going down, some of it slipping past his lips and down the stubble on his chin. Absently he swiped it away with the back of his hand and slipped the bottle into the convenient cup holder beside him. The cap had fallen and was rolling lost and useless on the floorboard.

Her waking moan reverberated around the barn, thick and sultry in the air.

He just needed to put distance between himself and the barn. Feelings of worthlessness and betrayal surged amplifying his need to hit something. His thick palm slapped the steering wheel repeatedly. He felt no pain.

Her perfect bow-shaped lips parted for him.

Cole felt an anguished scream erupt from his throat, and in the solitude of the empty country road, he yelled into the impassive glass of the windshield.

When she kissed him, his heart woke—like a shock to his system, she brought his breath back to his blue lips.

He had loved her since they’d first met. He was always there for her. He watched her grow, change—even evolve. Hadn’t he always loved her? Hadn’t he always shown his devotion to her?

He brought the thick bottle of alcohol up to his lips again and sucked the burning fluid even as his body tried to forget the memories of her warm lips tasting his own so delicately.