Liam had neglected to mention how to remove a harness from a wolf, but after a few mishaps, one of which had my favorite wolf snapping at me, I managed to break him free.

“Your clothes are there,” I said pointing to where I piled an outfit on the ground next to him. “I know you’re tired, so I’m going to wait on the other side of the cabin” where the wind won’t cut straight through my flesh and embed itself in my bones.

He growled at me and gave me a look which obviously was supposed to mean something. Unfortunately, I misplaced my Wolf Liam to Human Scout dictionary, but took a stab as to the meaning. “Okay, okay,” I called over my shoulder as I walked away. “I promise to not look.”

As I waited for Liam to finish Changing, I tested various methods for staying warm. I rubbed each of my limbs vigorously. Did jumping jacks. I even attempted to Mr. Myagi some heat back into my flesh. I was trying to fold my body in as small of a ball as possible when a furious wolf in human skin barreled around the corner.

“Idiot,” Liam muttered, lifting me off the ground as if I was an unruly pre-schooler. One arm was braced under my knees while the other secured my shoulders. I tried really hard not to think about how close either of those arms were to my bare bottom.

The door to the cabin gave with three hard pushes from Liam’s shoulder. I tried to get a look at the inside, but Liam whipped me around so fast everything was a blur. He practically threw me in a wooden chair before dropping down in front of me and taking my foot in his hands.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He growled at me. “Is it so damn hard to grab some socks and shoes? And a t-shirt? Just a t-shirt? You think because you’re a wolf you’re invincible? Think again, Snowflake. Even you can lose a toe to frostbite. And it’s not exactly like we’ve got a doctor out here to amputate it. You’ll die from blood infection, and then what in the hell am I supposed to do?”

My lips pulled back over my teeth, Wolf Scout coming off the leash. “Yeah, I was letting myself turn into a Smurf because I think I’m a badass. That has to be it. Has nothing to do with the fact some asshole buried my clothes under a mountain of other bags.”

Liam froze, and then, in a move I never would have expected in a million year, he exposed his throat to me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I endangered your life. I accept whatever recompense you demand.” And then he sat there, unmoving.

“Liam?”

He looked up at me, but didn’t change positions.

“Is this one of those Shifter custom things I know nothing about?”

Still no movement, other than what could be interpreted as an eye roll. “You’re supposed to punish me for leaving you in a situation where you could have died thanks to my idiocy.”

“Oh.” I thought about that. “What kind of punishment?”

“One that matches the crime.”

I started to laugh, but his face told me he was serious. I didn’t want any kind of compensation. He forgot to put my clothes where I could reach them. Big deal. My clothes and I have a long history of amnesia. I’m forever forgetting to put them in the laundry basket or take them out of the washing machine. But I could tell Liam wasn’t going to let this go, and I couldn’t really handle much more of this whole submission routine.

“Well, then, Liam Cole, I sentence you to one foot rub.” Because my feet were really cold, and his hands were nice and warm. “Actually, make that two foot rubs. Don’t leave out Lefty down there. She would be sad.”

Not only did Liam rub the feeling back into my feet, he also bundled them up in two pairs of those super-expensive socks I bought from Spence’s shop. Then, he started the task of cleaning out the chimney so he could start a fire. I offered to help, but he shot me a don’t-be-stupid look, although I don’t know if he was referring to my almost-hypothermia or his lack of faith in my ability to clean out a chimney.

While Liam worked, I took a survey of the cabin. It was a one room affair that probably covered no more than 200 square feet (or 61 meters, since we were in Canada). There was very little in the way of furniture and most of it looked homemade - the table, all four chairs, and the two large cabinets swallowing the far wall. The only thing that appeared to be bought instead of forged out of trees was the futon mattress sitting on the wooden bed frame.

When Liam moved outside where he couldn’t yell at me for wandering about on the cold wooden floors, I got up and explored the inside of the cabinets. What I found there reminded me of this crazy show I saw one time about people whose hobby was to prepare for catastrophic events. Canned food was stacked as tightly as possible in the space, along with a First Aid kit, some blankets, a few knives, and several of those old oil lamps one of my grandmothers collects. Stacked in between the cabinets was several bottles of oil.

At first the amount of stuff in there seemed overwhelming, but then I made the mistake of calculating things in my head. It was October and already snow covered the ground. Most likely, we wouldn’t be seeing grass until… when? April? May? Later than that? I wasn’t up on my Canadian weather patterns. Even if we went with the conservative idea of leaving in April, we would be trapped here for more than six months. Thirty days times seven months was 210 days. Was this enough food to last that long?

I instantly regretted ever having read Life As We Knew It.

I tried to drum down the panic by reminding myself that several of the bags on the sled were filled with nonperishable food. Heck, one small bag was stuffed full of candy bars. We wouldn’t starve if we had like a hundred candy bars, right?

God, I didn’t want to die of starvation.

The sound of something slamming to the ground rescued me from my mini-meltdown. I spun around just in time to see two squirrels race out of the fireplace and around the cabin in a fury of movements. Being able to totally relate to their sense of despair, I took pity on them and opened the door. It took a few minutes, but they finally found their way outside.

“There was a nest of squirrels living in the chimney,” Liam said as the two streaked past him towards freedom.

“You don’t say.” I leaned against the open door as he surveyed the mess sitting in the fireplace. “Don’t suppose you have a broom?”

“Look under the bed.”

I did, and to my surprise, indeed found a broom there. It was the old-fashioned made-by-hand kind that made me want to etch “Nimbus 3000” onto the handle. Instead of handing it over to Liam, I took on my good womanly role and did the sweeping myself.