Brogan moodily stared out the window. The snow continued to fall with a thickness that made it virtually impossible to see more than a few feet from the house. He could hear the snap and the groan of the trees as the wind rushed through the forest.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” Barrack asked, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe to the kitchen.

Looking at Barrack over his shoulder, Brogan shook his head. No, he wouldn’t stand here all day. He was waiting for the kettle to sing so he could make Delilah another cup of the tea that she enjoyed.

In the background, he could hear the music she had turned on. He walked past his brother into the kitchen when he heard the kettle start to boil. Glancing at his brother’s face, he noted that Barrack wanted to talk.

“She will accept us,” Brogan murmured as he pulled the covering off the loose tea, poured it into the little gadget she used, and dropped into a tall cup. “I thought she did well considering everything that you told her.”

Barrack pushed off the doorframe and walked over to lean against the counter. “You could have helped a little,” he complained.

Brogan shrugged. “You were doing fine,” he quietly said.

Brogan stiffened when his brother laid a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head to look into his twin’s eyes, he grimaced. It was impossible to mask his feelings of doubt when he had such an intimate connection with his brother.

“She is confused and scared, but she listened and did not reject us,” Barrack said.

Brogan tore his gaze away. “We can’t let her die,” he stated in a soft voice.

Barrack squeezed his shoulder. “We won’t, brother. We won’t,” he swore.

Brogan’s lips twitched. He picked up the cup of tea and turned to look at his brother. He felt better – more confident. His brother was right, she didn’t reject them.

“She thinks we are crazy,” he said.

Barrack chuckled. “Since when have we ever let that stop us?” he retorted.

Soft laughter filled the kitchen. Brogan felt a renewed determination as they walked toward the room to where Delilah had retreated. Everything was in their favor. They were all captive to the weather. They would take this time to show her what wonderful mates they were and court her using the techniques that Pearl and Asim taught them. They still had time.

“What is she building again?” Brogan asked.

“Something called moving bookcases. She said she read how to do it in a book called Popular Mechanics,” Barrack replied.

“She really does read a lot,” Brogan said before he stepped into the room and almost had a heart attack. Delilah was standing on a tall ladder measuring the wall. “What are you doing?!”

“What…?! Oh!” Delilah’s startled cry echoed through the room.

He silently cursed himself for startling her, and was already in motion by the time Brogan had placed her tea on the table.

Her cry changed to a gasp when Barrack caught her as she tumbled off the ladder. Barrack carefully lowered her feet to the floor, continuing to hold her when she leaned against him. Brogan strode over, turned her until she was facing him, and captured her face between his hands. He studied her frightened expression with a mixture of relief and worry.

“You…,” he started to say before he shook his head.

Unable to express the fear he’d felt, Brogan leaned forward and captured her parted lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Barrack gently pressed against her from behind, sliding his hands down to her hips and pulling her closer to his long frame. The feel of her fingers threading through his hair and the touch of her tongue against his upper lip sent a burst of fire through Brogan.

Bite, bite, bite, bite. I bite, his dragon chanted in a contented voice inside his head.

We have to court her, Brogan groaned, his lips parting when she pressed her tongue against them and deepened the kiss.

Courting done. Time to bite, his dragon replied.

“So beautiful,” Barrack murmured behind them.

Brogan felt Delilah’s swift withdrawal at the sound of his brother’s voice. He tried to reignite the flame inside her, but she had already broken the kiss and turned her face away from him. She breathed deeply before she slid her hands down to his chest and pushed against him.

“I… I… need…,” she stuttered before she shook her head.

He studied her as she slipped out from between the two of them and started to leave the room. She paused and turned back to look at them, shook her head again, picked up her cup of tea, and hurried out of the room and up the stairs. He walked over to the door and watched her disappear down the long hallway to her bedroom. A moment later, he heard the door quietly closing and the distinct click of the key turning in the lock.

“She liked it,” Barrack stated, crossing his arms across his chest.

A smile curved Brogan’s lips. “Yes, she liked it a lot,” he acknowledged, turning to look at his brother. “Where is that book she was looking at? I think it is time to step up our courting.”

* * *

Ashville, North Carolina:

Olie ‘Ray’ Lister sat staring at the fire. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the elegant leather chair. His mind lost in thought. He ignored the quiet sound of the door to his office closing when his wife of twenty years walked by it. A moment later, he could hear their youngest son, Edison, complaining to her that the internet was slow.

Of course it was slow! More than half of the country was stuck inside for the storm of the century, but his son thought the universe revolved around his need for access to the internet. Ray was glad that he left the domestic responsibilities – especially those dealing with a disgruntled teenager – to Mabel.

His energies were better focused on the things he was good at, like making money. They had moved here from California because Mabel was concerned that the life in Los Angeles was too hectic for their three children, particularly Edison. Personally, he thought a good boarding school and time away from his mother would help their son more than anything else. Fortunately, the other two were away at college.

Dismissing his wife and son, he returned his focus to the current issue at hand, his newest planned community project that was on hold until he acquired the property he had his eye on. As a real estate developer in California, he had learned to give people what they wanted. In this case, fancy mountain retreats complete with a golf course, private air strip, and million dollar mountain views at non-L.A. prices.

He rose from his chair and walked over to the large display set up in the corner. He had carefully picked the area where he wanted to build his new community. The development would be close to National and State Parks, with easy access to the larger Eastern cities, including those in Washington, D.C. and Virginia. The proposed site was not far from the ocean for those who would enjoy visiting the beaches but still worried about global warming. However, even the best laid plans could not be implemented if the pivotal acreage located at the center of the project belonged to someone else.

He had millions riding on this development. He’d already purchased the majority of the land he required. The local area attorney that he hired had been very successful in convincing the locals to sign on the dotted line – all except the most crucial one.

Reaching for his cell phone, he dialed the attorney. He impatiently waited for DeWayne to answer. On the fourth ring, DeWayne finally responded in a distracted voice.

“This is D. Davis, Attorney at Law, can I help you?” DeWayne greeted.

“DeWayne, this is Ray Lister. I was calling to inquire about your progress with the purchase of the land on Saddle Mountain,” Ray asked, turning to look out at the falling snow.

“Mr. Lister, I… I was going to call you, but with the storm and all… I wasn’t sure….” DeWayne responded, stuttering as he tried to gloss over the fact that he was lying. “She still refuses to sell.”

“Have you checked all the tax and deed records?” Ray demanded.

The sound of DeWayne’s heavy sigh blasted in his ear. “Yes, sir. She is paid up and there are no outstanding liens on the property,” DeWayne replied. “Maybe if you offered her more money….?”

“Out of the question. Find a way to convince her or I will,” Ray ordered.

“Yes, sir. I’ll… I’ll talk to Delilah again as soon as the weather clears,” DeWayne promised.

“See that you do,” Ray replied, ending the call.

He watched the snow accumulating on the ground. On rare occasions, he called in his brother-in-law for assistance. Mabel’s middle brother, Earl, was one of those guys who intensely disliked authority, following the rules, and being on the grid. These skill sets, if he could call them that, made Earl the perfect silent partner. Pay cash, no questions or restrictions, and Earl would get the job done. Ray had the real estate in Los Angeles to prove how effective his brother-in-law could be at completing a difficult task.

He pressed the number programmed into his phone. “Ashley Gangs’ Pawn,” the deep, southern accent of an old man answered.

“Is Earl there?” Ray asked.

There was a moment of silence before the person on the other end answered. In the background, he could hear someone asking about an item. The old man answered the person in the shop before he responded to Ray’s question.

“He’s not here. Who’s calling?” the old man asked.

“Ray,” he replied.

“I’ll tell him,” the old man said, hanging up on him.

Less than a minute later, his phone vibrated. He looked down at the display, and saw it was a private number. Pressing the button to connect the call, he lifted the phone to his ear again.

“Yes,” he answered.

“How much?” Earl responded.

Ray smiled. Earl was very predictable. He wanted to know if it was even worth his time.

“Twenty,” Ray said.

He knew by the ensuing silence that he had taken his brother-in-law by surprise. The sound of a loud truck going by told him that wherever Earl was at the moment, his brother-in-law wasn’t worrying about a major snowstorm. Once the truck passed, Earl spoke.

“What do you need done?” Earl asked.

Ray smiled. “I want you to convince someone to sell their property,” he replied.

“Limits?” Earl demanded.

“None. I leave it up to you to get the job done,” Ray replied.

“I want fifty. Leave it and the instructions at the usual place,” Earl finally answered.

“It’ll take me a couple of days. In case you haven’t heard, there is a major snowstorm affecting our area,” Ray dryly replied.

“I know. Wouldn’t stop me,” Earl retorted.

Earl’s comment gave Ray an idea. Normally, he didn’t suggest anything to his brother-in-law since it would be pointless, but the storm might be the perfect cover. There were always tragedies in the papers about an unexpected house fire or someone freezing to death after getting disoriented in a blizzard.

“Her name is Delilah Rosewater. She has two homes – one in town and one outside of town. The second is the one I’m interested in,” Ray replied.

“That’s all I need to know. Make sure the money is there, or she won’t be the only one I pay a visit to,” Earl warned, hanging up on him.

Ray lowered the phone in his hand. He turned when a tentative knock sounded on the door to his office. Irritation flashed through him when he saw Mabel’s stressed expression.

“What is it?” he demanded.

Mabel looked at him with pleading eyes. “Can you please call the internet service provider and see if there is anything wrong with our service? Ed is beside himself because he keeps getting kicked out of his game,” she said.

“Of course,” he replied.

“Thank you, dear,” Mabel said, her expression changing to one of relief despite the yelling coming from upstairs.

“I’ll do it in just a few minutes,” he promised, waving a hand for her to close the door.

The moment the door closed, he pocketed his phone and returned to his seat by the fire. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The sound of muted yelling filtered through the house.

Boarding school, he thought with a smile.