14
Fern
Pain rushed through my limbs and I cried out. Someone was cursing in a guttural voice, more growl than voice.
“Damn this snow—”
Cold air swept over my body, and I curled into a ball.
“No, no,” the gruff voice ordered. Large hands caught my hands and chafed them. Slowly, my fingers uncurled. I moaned at the tingling pain.
“You still have feeling in your limbs. A good sign. No, don’t fight me. You’re safe now.”
I tried to speak, but my teeth started chattering. A second later, he tucked me somewhere warm. Bit by bit, the shivers left me. Again, I tried to mouth a name, but no sound came out.
“Hush. Rest now, little dove.” I rested my head against a strong, smooth wall, and listened to the heart beat.
“What were you thinking, coming out in the storm?” The rough voice sounded
