“Nap, then. Dinner will take some time to prepare,” Jason said, pulling a warm robe around Vale’s shoulders. “Here, this side of the bed is dry. I’ll change the sheets later.”
Vale scooted over to the other side of the big mattress, the one closest to the windows. Then after Jason kissed his forehead, praised his tight ass once more, and made sure he was warm, Jason left Vale alone to stare out at the fading light on the trees and lake below. The bed was colder near the window, but it felt good. Vale opened his robe and lifted the blankets that Jason had so carefully bundled him in, and let his hot skin take in the coolness. He smiled, tweaking his own nipples, and thinking about the way Jason’s eyes always went so sweet and vulnerable just before he came. The most intimate gaze imaginable. Vale loved being the one to make his baby alpha feel that way.
As his eyes grew heavier, the inevitable nap drawing him down, Vale noticed flurries begin to fall beyond the window. It was early for snow, so despite how pretty it was, he knew there was no hope of it sticking or being more than a quick snow shower. Drowsing, he remembered when he and Jason had first met, there’d been a night when snow had threatened, and Jason had promised to take Vale sledding the next day if it did.
The snow hadn’t stuck that time, and the sledding had never happened, but that sweet night was still a cherished memory. After all, his baby alphahadstuck, even if the snow hadn’t. And Jason was the best thing that had ever happened in Vale’s life. Better even than the night he’d found out that his first book of poems was to be published. It astonished him now to remember that he’d thought that moment the pinnacle of potential joy. It came nowhere near even a simple morning spent with Jason. Waking by his side, breathing his scent, watching him putter in the garden at their house, or get ready for his day at work. These were all true pinnacles for Vale.
Vale was happy, beyond anything he’d ever deserved, and he could only imagine that these beautiful moments would one day become mundane to him. But not yet. He thought there were still a few surprises in store for him and Jason. He just didn’t know what exactly they might be.
But when he woke an hour and a half later, he was shocked to find that a freak snowstorm in the middle of autumn was one of them.
That, and something much more ominous.
Because in Vale’s sleep, he’d thrown every stitch off and still he felt way too hot. Pinpricks of heat danced under his skin. Worse, his body ached with that tell-tale yearning which heralded a rapidly approaching heat.
“Jason,” he called, his stomach rolling slightly at the delicious scent of food in the air. Repulsion toward food…another sign of heat. Heart beating hard, he got to his feet and tugged the robe on, walking down the hallway toward the kitchen noises. “Jason?”
Brightly lit, the living room glowed from the electric lights running off the new-fangled generator that Jason had shown him as they’d walked around the property earlier. Jason had the radio turned to some classical music like his pater listened to in his conservatory, and he slowly moved around the kitchen from pot to pot, lifting and stirring, and smiling at his work.
“Jason?”
Jason turned to him with such a beautiful expression that Vale hated to know what he was about to say would wipe it away. “Oh, good,” Jason said. “You’re awake. The food’s almost done. Just a few more minutes.”
“I’m so sorry, darling, but we have to go home. Now.”
“What? Why?” Jason tilted his head, and the motioned toward the large windows. “Vale, it’s snowing. It’s coming down in wet clumps. We can’t go home tonight. I doubt we can go home tomorrow, even. I’m sorry.” He grinned and winked. “But that means we can play more.”
Vale’s knees went weak, but he managed to stumble to the front door of the cottage and open it up, unwilling to take the view out the windows as proof. Sure enough, the open sky that had been visible before he fell asleep was now dark, no moon in sight. Thick clouds let loose fat, wet snowflakes the size of silver pieces. It had accumulated quickly, already covering the path and the driveway.
“Vale?” Jason came up behind him then, worry in his voice. He pressed along Vale’s back and hooked his chin over Vale’s shoulder, peering out into the eerie white darkness. “See? It’s going to be impassable before long, if it isn’t already, and it’s way too dangerous to try to drive in this mess tonight. What’s wrong?” He turned Vale around and took hold of his chin so that he could peer down into his eyes.
The door was still ajar, and the cold air felt amazing on Vale’s hot skin. He was tempted to open the robe but knew that would distress Jason, and what he had to say was going to distress him enough. “Don’t panic,” Vale said slowly. Thoughhewas panicking even now. His breath came in gulps, and his heart pounded so hard he felt faint. “Whatever happens, don’t panic.”
Jason’s eyes went wide, and he shut the door before guiding Vale to the sofa and pushing him down on it. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He put his fingers on Vale’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“My heat,” Vale muttered. “It’s early.”
“What? No. That’s not possible. You just had it two months ago.”
“Apparently it is, Jason, because it’s happening right now. I’m hot all over, inside and out, and I’m old enough to know what these feelings mean. I’ve been through these enough times now.”
Jason swallowed hard. “Fuck.”
“We need to go home.”
“We can’t,” Jason whispered. “The weather is…” Then he squeezed his eyes shut. “I only have a couple of condoms with me. In the First Aid kit. I didn’t think this could happen.”
“We have to try,” Vale said. He stood up and headed toward the door again. “Turn off the stove and the oven, leave everything else. If we go right now—”
A big crash of thunder rolled, and a flash of lightning illuminated every shadow in the room. It was followed almost immediately by a cracking noise—a splintering that made him fear something had struck the house—and then a huge thumping bang shook the room. Jason turned back to the front door, jerked it open and stared in shock. “A tree fell across the drive. And on our car.”
Vale stood up, his legs quivering, and with his heart pounding, he stepped up by Jason and peered out into the night. The tree was massive, the car ruined.
“Call your parents,” Vale whispered. “They can come get us. We can walk part of the way down to meet them.”
“Even if that was safe, and even if they could make it up the mountain in this snowstorm, the phones are down, babe.”
“Down?”
