Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 397 - Blood On The Ice Is Not Always So Crisp And Clean

Looking over to the red wolf again, I think back to the night of the conclave. I was just a bit loopy still, after giving birth, but I seem to remember him as one of those who had taken the Duskpaw’s side in what was going down.

Even injured, he carried himself with that sort of fear inducing authority of an Alpha. His hybrid form was larger than most I’d seen in Helene’s memory, though the white wolf beside me had an edge over him there.

Not that I’m smug about that or anything. Perhaps... a little.

However, the look in his dark-brown glowing eyes?

> Well, it’s a shame she didn’t finish him off then. It doesn’t look like he has been making any better choices for himself or his people. Why is he even out here alone? <

The hunter was in bad shape, I realized. His left arm hung at an awkward angle, likely broken at some point in the struggle. When he peeked out and yelled another directed expletive, I see that blood had frozen in a crust along one side of his face.

But I think that was from his mount, as I see no other wound. Still, he maintained his position because trying to outrun the danger was impossible. And he seemed determined to deny his enemy an easy meal based on what he keeps shouting.

His voice and face are also familiar to me, now. Rick, the owner of that chicken restaurant Cluckers. Another one who I can’t fathom the reason why... he would be out here in this awful setting.

> At least both of us had our reasons for being outside of the city. As possessive and clingy as hers were and as... we’ll call it ’avoidant’ for mine. <

As far as I know, they should all be working closely with the Rimecoat on the plans for helping the other humans survive. He struck me as someone who would be very into easing the tensions between either side.

Not someone auditioning for the role of Provoking Pirate Sailor in some sort of ’action-movie’.

"I’m going to skin you and hang your pelt from the first flagpole I see that survived those winds, Mateo!"

A growl to this last outburst cut short as the Sandhowl swiveled his head in our direction. I saw his eyes narrow and realized the mistake I... we’d made, immediately.

Stupid brightly glowing lilac eyes! Why do we have to make ourselves so *obvious* in these states?!

The hunter had also noticed the shift in the werewolf’s attention and tried to check for what had distracted his opponent. He cursed when the gun either jammed or was out of ammo. Which was all the opening that something as fast as one of our kind needed.

Without roaring to alert, the red wolf slipped around the rocks and bolted for the kill. Without thinking, I also burst from our hiding space. Dropping the two stories and springing immediately to cover the distance as her worried claws dug into my neck.

Her scent, those pheromones of crisp snow and bloody iron drove me on. Surging so strong with her anger and leading me to prevent death which I didn’t understand. This violence threatened to spill over and endanger my son.

Because the asshole human had actually pulled the trigger the moment he saw my eyes! The hunter spun toward me, the weapon he pulled out from the saddle swinging in my direction - even as I noticed that Mateo hesitated upon measuring my size, now that we are closer.

"Hold fire!"

Or upon noticing Kyrie Voss on riding on my back. However, the hunter was hasty again. Seeing the massive wolf that I am, he’d fired instead of listening and...

Everything slowed.

I felt the tingles of | Mother’s Intuition | whirl right into the solidarity of | Guardian’s Composure |. In my mindscape, it looked like blue fireflies rising from the stone slab I sat upon.

Out in reality, I saw the silver gleam of the broadhead as it left the crossbow’s stock aimed at my chest. With Kyrie and my son on my back, any attempt to dodge could put them directly in the path of it - or throw them off of me at best.

The choice was clear and even without the system I felt like I had the fortitude to make it. Angling my body in the next step to ensure the bolt would not miss, I felt the tip strike into my shoulder with a dull ’thwack’ the next instant.

An impact that was less painful than I expected, though it did hurt quite a bit. Nowhere near the agony that silver should be inflicting on a werewolf. I can even feel my blessed regeneration trying to force the material out of me before I take the next breath.

Sliding to a stop while making sure neither of these idiots were going to move, I take full note of how surprised the pair of them are that I just took a hit that should have caused a debilitating wound and treated it as a mere...

> Annoyance. This is annoying. Why am I doing this? Putting my child in danger for either of these two? Regional stability? The pen of diplomacy is mightier than the sword of war? I should have let them kill themselves. I should have- <

"What the hell? That-"

A deep growl came during my thoughts and Rick’s confusion. Not from me, but the woman on my back, whose furred hand had reached out and held tight onto the offending rod of metal protruding from my shoulder.

"Enough!"

Silly wolf. Why is she gripping that awful, burning sensation of the anathema metal for herself? Did she not get enough of it when it was in her lungs? Is she a masochist?

"Lower your weapon!"

My eyes were fixed on the other Alpha this whole exchange, as she slid carefully down my side. At the look on his wolven face. One that looks like he can’t decide whether we are friend or foe.

Considering he was against me and my son once, I have no reason to treat him as an ally. So I’m extremely glad that Kyrie chose to keep that wolf as the one furthest away from my son.

But I still caught from the side as Rick looked between all three of us and barked a humorless laugh.

"Not happening while I’m outnumbered. That thing should be on the ground right now. No werewolf shrugs off silver like that and it sure as hell ain’t a normal wolf."

"Clearly my mate is much better than anything normal. And you just shot at her, so you are lucky I haven’t ripped out your throat."

"...That thing is Helene Duskpaw?"

"No. That is *not* her name. And if you call Citra Lomdi ’that thing’ or ’it’ one more time, you’ll lose the tongue. It doesn’t matter how valuable your service as a middleman between our kind and your hunters has been over the years."

I’ve heard a lot of threats in my time as a member of the royals attending the court of nobles. Including some pretty violent ones like that. But never had I assumed them to be anything but boisterous blowharding... until now.

> Damnit, stop it. Stop thinking the dangerous edge she has is hot. We’re talking about her maiming someone just for insulting me, there is nothing that should be remotely sexy about- <

"So unless you’d like to determine how serious I am, you will lower your weapon inside the bounds of *my established territory* and explain what led to this fight before I choose to intervene as something more than a mediator."