A bark sounded from across the lake, warning, and then, behind it, a roar that thundered through the forest and lifted the hair on his neck.

Echo jerked around. “I know that bark. That’s Goose—or maybe Maverick. It’s one of my dogs, for sure.”

He stared out into the cold. And then grabbed his outer gear and started pulling it on. She reached for her jacket.

“Oh no you don’t. You stay here. I’ll find him.”

He picked out the .357 Taurus he’d put into his pack. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

Then he headed out into the night.

And for the first time in years, he meant to keep that promise.

She just had to keep running. Because running meant she would stay warm, at least on the inside, and maybe she’d stay ahead of him.

Behind her, the dog barked, maybe waging war with the beast, but she couldn’t know. The snow pulled at her feet. They were almost numb anyway, despite her expensive boots and the fatigue burning through her.

Rest. She longed to stop, to sink into the snow, to close her eyes. But her heart pummeled in her chest, pressing her forward, the memory of his hot breath on her pushing her into the night.

She could so easily imagine what he’d do to her if he caught up.

She shouldn’t have left the cave—she knew that now. But hunger and cold and the memory of the cabin pressed her out into the open, where the sun had emerged, and the blue sky had beckoned.

The cabin was around here somewhere—she’d seen it. And the dog seemed to know, too, because he danced around her, ran forward, then back to her, urging her on.

It was her fault—all of it, really, but especially the fact that she’d ended up lost, so far from anything.

From help, from home, from rescue.

Tired.

So tired.

The night had dropped from the sky like a lantern snuffing out, and she could barely see her mittens in front of her face. She kept her good arm out, however, because the spruce limbs could hit her in the face. Besides, she needed to hold on for support.

The dog’s barking seemed distant now, faded.

Don’t leave me.

The world around her turned quiet, just the crunch of her feet in the deep snow, the huff of her breath, the crackle of trees. The night sky soaring above her.

Oh, the night sky. She pushed through to a break in the forest and stood, eyes upward, watching the beauty. Waves of light, pulsing from the earth’s northern pole, magenta, a deep green, a turquoise blue, all of it magical.

She had this, at least. Beauty. The quietness of her last hour.

No. She had to live. Must live. Must tell—

Barking behind her and a sudden roar made her turn.