Winter's Mate: Fated on Ice

CHAPTER 2: The Stranger

Jude

I was going to kill that f*****g asshole.

The thought pounded through my head in rhythm with the bike's engine as I drove down Main Street, hyper-aware of the girl pressed against my back. She was shaking from cold or shock or both, and my wolf was losing its goddamn mind.

Mate, it howled. Protect. Keep. MATE.

I gritted my teeth and focused on not crashing, fighting against my wolf's excitement and anger.

I'd only come back to Highland Creek for Christmas because my mother had guilted me into it. One week, she'd said. Just spend one week with the family. Show your father you're committed to your future. I'd been planning to suffer through awkward dinners and Marcus's disapproval before heading back to my dorm at Highland University for the spring semester and the second half of hockey season.

Instead, I'd walked out aimlessly, trying to find an excuse to ditch the dinner when my wolf caught a peculiar scent that made me run straight into the sight of that asshole and his friends mocking a crying girl in the snow.

The punch had been instinct. The need to protect her, to get her away from them, to make sure she was safe—that had been instinct too.

I just hadn't realized why until I'd touched her hand.

The mate bond had hit me. I'd read about it in books, but this was different. It was like my life had been black and white, and the moment we touched, everything burst into color.

This girl, this stranger whose name I didn't even know yet, was mine. My mate. The one person in the entire world meant for me, chosen by fate or the Moon Goddess or whatever the f**k was responsible for werewolf destiny.

And she had no idea because she was human.

I pulled the bike up in front of Jack's Tavern, the only bar in Highland Creek that stayed open on Christmas Eve. Jack was pack, and his bar was a safe space for wolves and humans alike. More importantly, it was warm and quiet, and I needed to get her inside before she froze.

"We're here," I said, killing the engine.

My mate climbed off the bike with shaky movements. Her lips were tinged blue, and the comforter she'd wrapped around herself was soaked with snow. My jacket hung off her shoulders, and I could see she was curvy beneath it all—soft and perfect and exactly right.

My wolf preened. Mate. Perfect mate.

Down, boy. Not the time.

I led her inside, where warmth and the smell of whiskey and woodsmoke greeted us. Jack looked up from behind the bar, his scarred face creasing into a frown when he saw us. Jack had been a pack enforcer before losing his leg in a challenge twenty years ago. Now he ran the bar and kept an eye on pack business in town.

"Welcome." His voice was rough, and he tilted his head in a bow. "Didn't expect to see you tonight.”

Young Alpha.

"Change of plans." I guided my mate to a booth in the back corner, away from the handful of other patrons—mostly wolves who'd opted out of family gatherings, plus a few humans who had nowhere else to be on Christmas Eve. "Can we get some coffee? And food. Whatever's fastest."

Jack's eyes flicked between us, taking in her tear-stained face, the comforter, and my protective stance. "Sure thing," he said quietly. "Be right up."

I slid into the booth across from her, and for the first time, I got a good look at my mate.

She was beautiful.

It wasn't just the bond talking. She had brown hair that fell in waves past her shoulders, currently tangled and damp with snow. Blue eyes that were red-rimmed from crying. Full lips that were currently pressed into a thin line. Warm brown skin that made me think of summer despite the winter outside.

And curves. God, the curves. Soft and generous and perfect for holding, for—

Stop. Jesus Christ, get your head together, Winters.

She was also clearly terrified and heartbroken, which meant I needed to be gentle and careful and absolutely not think about how perfectly she'd fit against me on the bike.

"What's your name?" I asked, keeping my voice soft.

"Rosie." Her voice was hoarse. "Rosie Martinez."

"Rosie." I tested it out, let it roll over my tongue. Perfect. Of course it was. "I'm Jude. Jude Winters."

We sat in silence for a moment as she nodded and wrapped her hands around the coffee mug Jack had silently delivered.

I could hear her heartbeat, still too fast, and smell the salt of her tears under the borrowed scent of my jacket. My wolf whined, desperate to comfort her. To claim her. To make sure she never felt this kind of pain again.

Patience, I told it firmly. She needs time.

"If you don't mind me asking, can you tell me what happened?" I asked.

Rosie laughed humorlessly. "What happened? I was stupid, that's what happened." She took a long sip of coffee, and I saw her hands were shaking. "My boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—it was all a bet. Three months of dating, and it was all just entertainment for him and his friends. And the video..."

"The video?"

"They recorded us. Having s*x. My first time." She muttered, "Posted it online. I don't even know how many people have seen it by now."

White-hot rage flooded through me, so intense that I felt my canines extend slightly. I gripped the edge of the table to keep from shifting right there in the bar, forcing my wolf back down.

Kill him, my wolf snarled. Go back and kill him.

Later, I promised. After that, we take care of our mate.

"Where do you go to school?" I managed, my voice coming out rougher than intended.

"Silverwestern." She laughed again, bitterly. "By tomorrow, everyone there will know. Rosie Martinez, the desperate fat girl who actually thought someone like Joshua Carter would want her."

"Stop."

She looked up, startled by the command in my voice.

"Don't talk about yourself like that," I said, and I couldn't quite keep the alpha tone out of my words. Pack members would have immediately lowered their eyes in submission. Rosie just stared at me. "He's the worthless one. Not you. Never you."

"You don't know me."

"I know you didn't deserve what happened tonight. I know you're brave as hell for walking out of there. And I know—" I forced myself to stop before I said something about mates and bonds and forever. "I know that guy was a f*****g idiot."

Rosie stared at me, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "Why are you being nice to me?"

Because you're mine. Because my soul recognizes yours the moment I touch you. Because I would burn down the world to keep you safe.

"Because someone should be," I said instead.

She broke then. Really broke. Tears streamed down her face as she hunched over her coffee, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

I moved without thinking, sliding around to her side of the booth and pulling her against my chest. She stiffened for a moment—and I prepared to let go if she wanted—but then she collapsed into me, crying so hard I thought she might break apart.

"I've got you," I murmured, one hand stroking her hair. It was softer than I'd imagined, damp from the snow and smelling like vanilla and something sweet. "You're safe. I promise."

My wolf was purring—an unconscious sound meant to comfort mates and pups. I couldn't quite stop it, but Rosie didn't seem to notice. She just cried and cried, and I held her through it all.

Jack brought food at some point—burgers and fries that went cold on the table. The other patrons filtered out. The fairy lights strung around the bar dimmed as midnight approached.

I didn't move. Didn't let go. Just held my mate and silently vowed that Joshua Carter would pay for every tear she shed.

Eventually, Rosie's sobs slowed. She pulled back, wiping at her face with her hands, and I reluctantly let her go.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I got your shirt all wet."

"Don't care."

She looked up at me, and something shifted in her expression—awareness, maybe, of how close we were sitting. Of how my arm was still around her shoulders. The way I was looking at her was like she was the only person in the world.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For everything."

"Don't thank me yet." I checked my phone. It's nearly midnight. Christmas Day is in fifteen minutes. "It's late. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

"I... no. I was supposed to stay at the lodge with Josh." Her face twisted. "I can find a hotel or something."

"Most places are closed for Christmas Eve." I hesitated. This was going to sound bad, but I couldn't let her wander around town alone. "Look, I know you don't know me, but I can get us a room at the Winter Pine Inn. Two beds," I added quickly. "I just don't want you alone tonight."

Rosie studied me for a long moment, and I could practically see her weighing the risks. Stranger who'd helped her versus being alone on the worst night of her life.

"You're either genuinely kind or a serial killer," she said finally.

"Definitely the first one."

"That's what a serial killer would say."

Despite everything, I grinned. "Fair point. But Jack here has known me since I was a kid. Jack—Am I a serial killer?"

"Nope," Jack called from the bar, where he was wiping down glasses.

"See? Certified non-murderer." I waited, holding my breath. "What do you say?"

Rosie took a deep breath. "Okay. But if you try anything—"

"I won't. I swear on..." I searched for something meaningful. "On my hockey career."

That got a small smile. "You play hockey?"

"Captain of Highland's team."

"Jock saves a girl from a jock. Ironic."

"Not all jocks are assholes."

"Apparently not." She slid out of the booth, swaying slightly. The alcohol and emotion were catching up to her. "Can we go? I'm so tired."

"Yeah. Come on."

I settled up with Jack and led Rosie back out into the cold. The snow had stopped, leaving the world crystalline and quiet. Christmas lights twinkled on storefronts, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear church bells ringing on Christmas Day.

"It's beautiful," Rosie said softly, looking up at the stars.

It was. But I was looking at her—at the way the lights caught in her brown hair, the way her breath clouded in the cold air, the way my jacket hung off her shoulders.

Mine, my wolf whispered. Ours.

Soon, I said. When she's ready.

The Winter Pine Inn was two blocks away, a small bed-and-breakfast run by an elderly human couple who knew better than to ask questions when wolves showed up at odd hours. I checked us in while Rosie waited in the lobby, then led her upstairs to a room with two queen beds and a view of Main Street.

"Bathroom's there if you need it," I said, pointing. "I'll just—"

But Rosie was already kicking off her boots and crawling into the nearest bed, still wearing my jacket and wrapped in the comforter. Within seconds, her breathing had evened out into sleep.

I stood there, watching her breathe, fighting every instinct that told me to climb in next to her. To hold her. To never let go.

Instead, I grabbed the spare blanket from the closet and settled into the chair by the window, knowing I wouldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. Not with my mate so close and so vulnerable.

The bond was already forming—I could feel it, a golden thread connecting us, still fragile but growing stronger with every moment we spent together.