Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(2)
King Zeller actually laughed with him. “Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation?”
Sin dipped his head in agreement. “Just as you wouldn’t wish to tarnish yours.”
Shrieking, I dropped my poles when pure ice had my skis jerking backward—as my body went forward. Throwing my mittened hands out, I barely caught the majority of my weight before my face ate too much snow. My skis miraculously stayed attached to my boots but they twisted my legs at an odd angle. With my heart racing, I lifted my face from the freezing shit. I stared down at it as I shook my head, knocking the burning chunks of hell from my cheeks and mouth.
“Nine hundred and forty-three,” Sin droned, damn near everyone in our large group snickering quietly. We had just placed our skis on the snow behind the lodge we were staying at. “Caro, perhaps you should stay here on even ground and practice for a while.”
Yes, he was serious.
“It’s not even,” I grumbled, my cheeks flaming. “I was standing on an incline.”
London actually started choking on an outright laugh, but I was pretty sure his mate, Cia, had something to do with his grunt—and silence—afterward.
An enormous muscled arm dug under my waist through the snow, easily lifting me completely off my feet, my skis dangling in the air. My back was crushed against a hard chest wrapped in a soft jacket. I wiped the icicles off my lashes with the back of my mittens, the dry side, and blinked out at the amused group. My cheeks still blazed bright red, and I tilted my head to the side to stare up at whoever held me.
I should have known.
Under a white, silver-trimmed knit cap, his white rolls of hair rested on a white and silver jacket. His tanned skin was right at home in the sun’s rays shining down on us. The black tattoo around his eyes only enhanced the sparkle to his silver eyes as he stared down into my own gaze, his lips twitching and his chin actually trembling. But in his defense, he wasn’t laughing when he stated steadily, “I’m sure you’re correct. No one else was standing where you were. There probably is a…slight incline.”
My chin lifted despite my humiliation. “There is. So be careful of that spot.” I wiggled my dangling skis. “Think you can set me down now?”
His chest shook against my back. “Are you sure you want me to?”
No point in lying. “Not really, but I don’t want to hold up our group any longer.”
His eyes twinkled, but he slowly lowered me. He kept a steadying hand on me when I again wobbled—even standing completely still between his own skis. “Sin may have a point, Sprite. Staying on even ground would definitely be safer for you.”
I snatched the poles that Brann handed me and jabbed them into the snow, griping over my shoulder, “No one’s asked you, Leric. Can you even ski?” The Temple was vast, and had many areas I hadn’t seen, but during my time there I hadn’t come across a place to ski.
Leric gripped one side of my hips, keeping me upright between his legs. “Yes, I know how to ski.” His voice was a deep, intimate purr. “I enjoy all sports…extreme.”
I blinked at the blatant sexual suggestion, shoving away with my poles from his protective stance, but warming instantly at his tone. I was incredibly surprised at his words not only said in front of everyone, but also after he had called it quits between us.
My train-wrecked thoughts caused me to forget about my footing for a moment, which was now moving thanks to pushing away from Leric.
I squealed as I really did hit a small drop, unable to stop as I shot right between King Collins and Elder Farrar, my flailing poles thumping them—hopefully in the stomach and not any lower—causing them to grumble as I sped past. The wind licked against my face as I slid down where Coms and Mysticals waited in line for the lift up the slope.
I outright screamed, waving my poles at them to f*cking move!
So yeah, my pathetic ass took down an enormous Shifter.
Or perhaps he took me down.
Either way, we ended up in a pile of tangled limbs, skis, and poles, my nose planted firmly in the snow all over again, while a mammoth chest smashed the back of my head down into it. I was pretty sure I heard what was a bear growl emit from his throat before he muttered a very unkind curse.
I couldn’t blame him. I had hit him hard.
Luckily, he hopped up with ease.
Unluckily, he grabbed the back of my jacket and lifted me straight in the air until my face was level with his. The enormous paw he used to hold the back of my jacket kept my torso parallel to the ground and my feet kicking as they dangled—sans skis now—while he stared me in the eyes. He was more than a little aggravated, his rugged features stained with red heat.
I grasped where my coat met my throat, pulling so it didn’t choke me. “I’m sorry!”
“Not good enough,” he growled, grinding his pearly whites. “Try again.”
“Um…I’m really sorry?” I panted. My group was rushing down the hill now. Apparently their shock had finally disappeared. With one hand, I patted his cheek awkwardly. “Be a honey bear and let me down?”
Shit. Probably not the time to joke.
He bared his teeth, his predator—the bear—actually snarling, but I was quickly gripped around my waist and yanked out of the livid Shifter’s hold. In an instant, I was held tightly—again, dangling—against Sin’s side. My savior murmured, “You’ll have to excuse her. Her skills on the slopes are just as evident as her manners right now. She apologizes for ramming into you.” Sin jiggled me inside his hold. “Don’t you?”