“Stay back!” I bark again, louder this time. “Don’t come any closer!”
I drag a sleeve across the blood trickling from my temple, ignoring the sting. Penny's face is pale, but I'm not sure if it's fear or cold. Whatever it is, I don't like it. I need to do something.
My gaze sweeps the wreckage, cataloguing the damage, the next steps.
I turn back to the gaping hole in my cabin, soldier mode engaged. Lover, protector… it doesn’t matter what name she gives me.
Right now, my only job is ensuring her survival.
My chest seizes.Fuck.How could I have been so complacent? So… lost in her?
My military training, long buried under layers of trauma and self-imposed numbness, slams to the forefront. Threat identification. Damage assessment. Immediate action.
The window. Gone. A gaping hole.
The cabin, once my fortress, is now a wind tunnel, the temperature plummeting with terrifying speed. Loose snow is already piling up on the floor, the air tasting of ice and impending hypothermia.
This isn’t a fight I can win.
“Edward!” Penny’s voice, a thin thread of panic, barely reaches me over the storm.
I turn, my gaze sweeping the small space, searching for anything, a board, a blanket, anything to stem the tide. My eyes land on the fallen curtain rod, twisted and useless.
“Don’t move!” I shout again, forcing the words out through grit teeth.
My priority is her. Always her. Even if it kills me.
The chaos outside momentarily mirrors the chaos inside my head.
The screams of the wind morph into the screams of battle, the splintering wood into the crack of rifle fire. The cold, a familiar companion I remember all too well… it threatens to pull me into the icy grip of a flashback.
My hands clench, nails digging into my palms, trying to ground myself.
No. Not now. Not when she needs me.
My eyes fall on the large, heavy dining table, bolted to the floor, but large and sturdy. It’s an insane idea, even for me, but it’s the only thing big enough, heavy enough, to offer any significant barrier against the onslaught.
“Alright, Penny!” I yell, forcing my voice to project over the gale. “Listen to me! I'm gonna need your help!”
Her head snaps up, her eyes still wide with fear.
“What? What do you want me to do?”
“The table!” I point, my arm aching from the effort of fighting the wind. “We need to move the table against the window! It’s the only way to block it!”
Her gaze flies to the massive wooden table, then back to me, disbelief clear on her face. “Are you crazy? It’s huge! How can we d—”
“We don’t have a choice!” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “Unless you want to freeze to death! Now! Get over here!”
I lurch towards the table, my muscles screaming in protest.
It’s heavy, built for permanence, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins right now makes me feel almost superhuman.
I grab one end, digging my heels in, grunting with effort. The wood scrapes against the floor, a terrible, resisting groan.
Penny, bless her stubborn, sunshine-fueled heart, doesn’t hesitate.
She scrambles across the freezing floor, dodging flying snow, and puts her shoulder to the opposite end of the table.
