And in truth, she shouldn't really have been surprised he'd enjoyed himself with Betise before coming back to her. Not if they were soul mates. The only truly surprising thing was the fact that he'd come back to her at all.
She rubbed a hand across her brow. Her head ached, but it was probably nothing more than lack of sleep. She'd had little more than three hours overall, and given what had happened over the last few nights, it was nowhere near enough. Not that she was likely to catch up on any more sleep over her remaining days here. Duncan had certainly made that perfectly clear this morning.
A tremor ran through her, and she wasn't sure if it was excitement or trepidation. Maybe it was both. What she needed right now was someone sane to talk to. Someone like her sister. And while Savannah would probably go ballistic when she realized what Neva was doing, she was the only one who would understand. After all, Sav had done some pretty damn crazy things herself in the past.
She reached out with her thoughts. Warmth sparked briefly through the fog of memories in her sister's mind, then faded. Consciousness was close, but not yet close enough. Neva sighed. She was briefly tempted to call Ari, but she knew her friend would probably tell her to forget about feelings and just enjoy the dancing. Though Ari would have a fit if she realized Neva was at the mansion rather than tucked away safe and sound in boring old Eagle.
Sighing again, she thrust aside the comforter and climbed out of bed. The chill hit her immediately, and she shivered, grabbing Duncan's robe off the end of the bed. The black silk whispered sensually across her skin, and the scent of spice and forest enveloped her. Desire rippled through her. Why was she so attuned to his scent and his touch? Or was it simply a matter of her inexperience being totally overwhelmed by a man whose skills at the dance were almost legendary?
Frowning, she thrust the question aside and headed out to the sitting room, wincing slightly at the ache in her muscles. No one had ever told her dancing could be so ... active. But then, no one had ever told her it could be frustrating one moment and totally amazing the next. And the couple of mates she'd had before Duncan certainly hadn't prepared her to be played by a master.
She stoked the fire with more wood, then padded back through the bedroom and into the bathroom. To discover someone had very recently poured her a bath. Two towels had been placed on a chair at the end of the big old claw-foot bath, along with shampoo and soap. She picked up the bar of soap and sniffed it lightly. The faint scent of citrus teased her nostrils. Her favorite. She wondered how he'd known, given she'd been wearing Jasmine when they'd first met. Then she remembered he'd been in her house. And in her bed.
Heat flushed through her again. Even thinking about the damn man made her want him. The moon, she thought, had a lot to answer for. And yet there seemed more than just the moon fever between them, which, in itself, was crazy thinking because it could never be anything more than what it was now. Because of Betise.
Damn it, she didn't even know if she liked the man. And why in hell was she even worrying about it? Once this moon phase was over, she'd never see him again. Which is what she'd wanted — planned — from the very beginning.
Only she wasn't so sure it was what she wanted now.
Crazy. She was definitely going crazy.
She stripped off the robe and climbed into the bath, sighing in pleasure as she eased into the hot water. She soaked in the sweet-smelling tub until the water began to cool, then washed. Climbing out, she grabbed the towels, wrapping one around her hair and using the other to dry herself. Then she padded into the bedroom to grab some fresh clothes from her bag.
She was sitting on the bed brushing her hair when the sensation hit her. Heat flashed white hot across her skin and fear clawed at her, making it next to impossible to breathe. There'd only been one other time in her life when she'd felt something like this — like someone had reached into her chest and attempted to pull out her heart. It had happened when she was eight years old and Savannah had been about to get caught in an avalanche. The link between them had saved Sav's life back then. Maybe it was about to save it again.
She reached for her sister, but the response was still the same, and Neva thrust to her feet. Blizzard or not, she had to get down to the hospital. Now.
She shoved on her shoes and ran to the French doors. She couldn't chance going through the halls and running into Duncan. He'd undoubtedly stop her, and he'd definitely want an explanation — something there was no time for. She'd have to leap from the balcony and hope the snow was deep enough to cushion her.
The wind ripped the doors from her hands, smashing them back against the walls. Snow swirled in, thick, fast and oh-so cold. She shivered and battled the storm to the balcony's edge. The world beyond was a sheet of white. She couldn't see the ground let alone the trees. She climbed over the rail, hanging by her fingertips for several seconds as the wind battered her sideways, then let go.
She hit the ground with a grunt, falling backwards into a thick snowdrift. Wild flurries of white danced around her, quickly coating her body. She rolled onto her hands and knees and called to the wolf within.
It came in a rush of power, and she leapt forward on all fours. But the snow was thick and soft under her pads, forcing her to bound rather than run, and the fear swelled. She was running out of time. And so was Savannah.
She surged through the main gates and down into the trees. The snow here was lighter, allowing her to pick up speed. But the wind tore at her coat, and it felt like the ice in the air was invading every pore. She was so cold it hurt to move. Not even the thick winter coat of a wolf provided much protection against the force of a storm like this.
She couldn't yet see the lights of Ripple Creek, and normally they would have been visible by now. The fierceness of the storm was whiting everything out. She leapt the stream and raced on, her heart slamming against her rib cage and her tongue lolling as she battled for breath.
The minute she came out of the protection of the trees, the wind hurled her sideways. She tumbled downhill, gathering momentum until she smashed into a tree. She yelped, and pain rose in a red tide through her body.
Neva?
The tremulous voice cut through the pain, blanketing her mind, and joy swept through her. Sav, I'm coming.
She scrambled to her feet and, ignoring the ache in her ribs, ran on. The smell of wood smoke and humanity stung the freezing air. She was close to Ripple Creek, even if she couldn't yet see it.
There's someone here.
Oh God. Who?
Confusion swirled through the link between them. Savannah was holding on to consciousness by the slenderest of margins, and if she slipped away, she'd die, of that Neva was certain.
I don't ... Her voice faded away.
Savannah!
Here. But her reply was soft. Distant.