Page 44 of Wilde and Untamed


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She wasn’t a coward. Far from it. But Antarctica demanded respect, and the storm raging outside was the kind that stripped flesh from bone. No discovery was worth that risk.

The corridor stretched empty before her, the overhead lights flickering slightly with each powerful gust that hit the station.

Instead of going back to her tiny bunk, she headed toward the small observation lounge—really just a glorified closet with a window facing east so the people who stayed over the long, dark winter could see the first sunrise of the year.

She settled into the single chair, drawing her knees up to her chest as she stared out at the swirling whiteness.

Maren was here just a year ago. Or at least she was supposed to have been, but Rue had seen no sign of her. Which, she supposed, made sense. Other teams had come and gone since Maren’s. All of her things had most likely been cleared out and given to her family.

Still, Rue couldn’t shake the disappointment. She’d hoped…she didn’t know what she’d hoped. To find a clue as to what happened? Or, at the very least, a sense of her friend’s life in those last few weeks.

But there was nothing here.

The door to the observation lounge opened with a soft hiss. Rue didn’t need to turn around to know it was Elliot—she recognized his footsteps, the particular rhythm of his breathing, even the subtle scent of his soap that somehow cut through the station’s recycled air.

“Found you,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him.

“Wasn’t hiding.” She kept her gaze fixed on the swirling whiteness outside, the storm a living entity that clawed at the station’s protective shell. “Well, maybe I was. Just needed space to breathe.”

The chair was designed for one, but Elliot perched on its arm anyway, his thigh pressing against her shoulder. She should have moved to give him more room, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the contact. His warmth seeped through the layers of their clothing, steadying her in a way she wasn’t ready to examine too closely.

“Dr. Keene cornered me in the hallway,” he said. “He seems to think you’re avoiding him.”

“Guilty as charged.” She rested her chin on her knees. “I’m tired of telling him we can’t go outside until the storm passes. It’s like he doesn’t understand that Antarctica will kill you without a second thought.”

Elliot didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between them, comfortable despite the tension that had been building since they’d arrived. When he finally spoke, his voice was so low she almost missed it beneath the howl of the wind.

“I can’t get through to WSW.”

Four simple words that changed everything. Rue’s head snapped up, finding his face drawn with concern, blue eyes shadowed with something that looked dangerously like fear.

“What do you mean, you can’t get through?” Her heart kicked against her ribs.

“I’ve been trying for days.”

“Well, then the storm must be?—”

“It’s not the storm.” Elliot ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing in spikes that would have been adorable in any other context. “I’ve tried every frequency, every protocol. Nothing’s getting out.”

“That’s impossible.” But even as she said it, cold dread pooled in her stomach. “The emergency channels?—”

“Blocked. All of them.” His jaw tightened. “Someone’s jamming our communications. Deliberately.”

sixteen

As the days passed,Dr. Keene grew more agitated. He paced the length of the mess hall like a caged animal, his wire-frame glasses sliding down his nose with each agitated turn

“This is unconscionable!” He gestured wildly at the storm-battered windows. “Three days of potential discovery wasted because of excessive caution.”

Rue snapped up her coffee cup as his hip banged into the table, making the whole thing rattle. “It isn’t excessive.”

He whirled on her. “We’re only here for three weeks! You’re impeding our research.”

“And I’m quite sure that is not what Atlas Frost hired you for,” Camille remarked. She’d been sulking all morning over a broken nail—who expected a fresh manicure to last in Antarctica?—and had clearly been waiting for the right moment to slice into someone. Dr. Keene had presented Rue as the perfect target.

Rue suppressed a sigh. “No, he hired me to keep you all safe, and that’s what I’m doing.” The storm had everyone on edge, but Simon’s increasing agitation was becoming a problem. He’d cornered her multiple times over the past few days, demandingthat they venture out to the cave system. “The wind is still gusting at sixty miles per hour. Visibility is less than ten feet. If you want to march out there and freeze to death, be my guest, but I’m not risking anyone else’s life because you’re impatient.”

Dr. Keene’s face flushed red. “This isn’t impatience! It’s scientific urgency! What we found in that ice—” He cut himself off, darting a glance at Camille.