men to place the scion’s body on a stretcher. “I’m Liam. Just Liam. No last name.” He offered his hand to help Tryst stand. He had a good, firm clasp and friendly eyes, and he actually met Tryst’s stare straight on because he was the same height. “What’s your name?”
“Trystan Hawkes. I had just arrived at Wulfsiege with a delivery to the principal when the avalanche roared in through the castle wall. I’m here to help for as long as you need me.”
“We can definitely use another man, especially one who has had experience with avalanche rescues before.”
“No problem. I’m going to find the female and make sure they’ve got triage set up.”
“Before you go, one thing you should know about Alexis.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s the principal’s daughter. One of two Connor daughters. Alexis is a cool number. Watch you don’t get on her bad side.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll be too busy for that to happen.”
On the other hand, if he clashed with the gorgeous Alexis again, he’d welcome the experience. A bad side? Let it be naughty bad….
By midnight the men who had been digging nonstop since the avalanche had occurred before noon, were called in for the night. They’d found six men. Five had been alive, all with brutal injuries, yet, Natalie, the witch doctor on staff who had lived with the pack for decades, had diagnosed they would heal. The sixth, the scion, was dead; no methods of revival had proved successful.
According to Lexi’s count, that left six still missing. She doubted any could still be alive, yet Trystan Hawkes insisted, with blind determination, they continue the search.
“You never know what we wolves can withstand,” he said as he accepted a change of gloves and boots from Lexi’s assistant, Rick, because his were soaked.
He walked up to her and met her with his bright blue stare that seemed so out of place in this dire time. His gaze sparkled with an innate sort of well-being she couldn’t understand. When had a man ever truly looked at her in such a nonthreatening manner? She had to look up at him because he was so tall. Imposing, in a strangely gentle manner.
“If a pocket of air is trapped near the victim’s face, he may stand a chance of survival,” he explained. “You’ve got six men still missing, and I’m not stopping until we’ve found them, dead or alive. No man should be left out there as his final resting place.”
“Why?” She had to ask. The wolf was not aligned with the Alpine pack. He should care little for a few strangers.
“Why?” He frowned, yet that expression did not dilute the radiance glowing from his eyes. “How would you like it if you were the one trapped and someone asked me why?”
She nodded, taking his curt response as the admonishment it had been. Lexi was accustomed to male dominance, but this time it didn’t rankle her as much as it usually did, because he was only trying to help. And his devotion to the rescue touched the hard, cold place in her heart that she often wished could grow warm.
“At least eat a bit before you go out again. We’ve prepared sandwiches and there are sports drinks just around the corner on a table outside the cafeteria. Don’t be stupid, Hawkes. You need the energy.”
“I can manage a few minutes.” He headed toward the food, his heavy boots clomping with his lanky strides. Shaped differently than the pack wolves, he was longer, leaner, but no less muscled.
Lexi watched as he tilted back a sports drink in one swallow, then grabbed another and sucked that down as quickly. Accepting a turkey sandwich stuffed with veggies, and thanking the women manning the food table, he ate it as he marched out the lobby door and back into the brisk winter night.
Outside, the winds whipped relentlessly, nearing thirty miles an hour. Here in the valley, where one would think they’d be protected, it was as if the winds scooped down to scour the land. Lexi knew the weather had to be brutal, yet Trystan Hawkes’s determination glowed like a bright aura only a psychic could see.
The other wolves helping the rescue efforts were all as determined, but seeing this stranger step into the role without question or ties to the pack intrigued her. What kind of man would do such a thing? Sacrifice for others he didn’t even know? Exemplary—
“Who’s the tall redhead with the freckles? He certainly stands out from the pack like a bright red warning beacon.”
Lexi turned to find her sister, Alana, looking fresh as ever with perfect makeup and blond hair swept into a smooth, tight bun. She never went anywhere without bright red lipstick. Or the five-inch stilettos. Lana Connor was a Tiffany kind of girl stuck in bargain-basement hell. Apparently she had not been volunteering in the keep with the wounded, but then Lexi would have been knocked over had Lana even asked after the well-being of the survivors.
“I don’t know who he is,” Lexi offered. “But he just may be the most honorable wolf I’ve ever met.”
“Is that so?”
She sensed her sister’s eligible bachelor radar go up. Lana might be engaged to Sven Skarson, but that didn’t keep her from flirting with every wolf who risked his life by returning the heartless flirtation. She was beautiful, spoiled, and could have any man at whom she batted an eyelash. It was a game, Lexi sensed, a defense mechanism of sorts. Because she knew she was safe, Lana played with social and pack boundaries. Lexi was her sister’s opposite—she put up a cold front, knowing she was safe from any of the pack’s amorous attention.
Lana was the pretty one; Lexi was the smart one. She’d grown to accept the distinction between them, and for some reason, Lexi had never cared about Lana’s random flirtations.
Until now.
“He’s not your type,” Lexi said quickly. “He’s a hard worker, and is more concerned with helping others than himself.”
Leaving that verbal slap hanging, Lexi marched off toward the south wing to look in on her father.
“I almost forgot!” a man shouted down the hallway as she neared him.
Trystan Hawkes had a way of putting himself near to her, not touching yet just a little too close, challenging her own personal boundaries. He huffed from running and carried a titanium suitcase that she had remembered seeing when he’d first come into Wulfsiege.
“I came here for a reason, and I think what I have with me may be timely. I’m supposed to hand this directly to the principal. Your father?”
“Principal Connor is my father. But I can take that for you.”
“No, I, uh … can’t.”
“Monsieur Hawkes, with the events that have occurred, protocol has changed—”
“Sorry. I have specific orders to put it in only your father’s hands. Instructions stipulated by your father to mine according to the contract he signed with Hawkes Associates when assigning us as security advisors for his stored items. Please, can you take me there quickly? I need to get back outside.”
It wasn’t a breach of protocol, but it could be dangerous for her ailing father to have visitors.
