Jonathan was asleep.

But for the first time in a long, long while, he wasn’t surrounded by ice, his heart frozen until there was no emotion, no thought, no pain.

Instead, he felt warm.

Every beat of his heart pumped hot blood through his veins. He felt alive—beautifully alive.

And he felt at peace.

He was warm all over, resting on something soft. He dimly registered the comforting crackling of a fire, and he was surrounded by the most delicious smell.

A smell of cinnamon, vanilla, a hint of coconut.

He smiled in his dreams, remembering his grandma’s Christmas cookies.

Then he wrinkled his nose, resisting the urge to sneeze as something tickled him.

A moment later, he belatedly registered that he hadn’t been woken by the scent of Christmas cookies, but by the warm, somewhat spicy scent of a woman’s shampoo.

His cheek was nuzzling against soft hair.

And the warm presence in his arms wasn’t a pillow, but the deliciously curvy body of his mate.

He could hear her yawn softly. Then he felt the bed move as she sat up.

“Oh, good. You’re still alive,” she murmured, her voice warm. Her fingers pressed against his forehead.

It took effort to open his eyes.

What had happened to drain him so utterly of his energy? Even raising his eyelashes felt as if he was lifting a terrible weight.

“You’re awake!” She sounded relieved, a smile lighting up her gorgeous, honey-brown eyes. They were framed by thick, long lashes.

As he stared into them, still dazed, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss her eyelids, one after the other, then her cheeks, then the tip of her nose, and then, at last, those tempting, full, sensual lips...

“Can you hear me?” She leaned closer again. “You’re not running a fever, are you? You were as cold as ice when I found you.”

His mouth was dry. He had to swallow. For some reason, she was naked—and the sheet covering her had slipped down just enough to bare a generous breast and a delicious, dusky nipple.

“I’m fine.” It came out as a hoarse croak.

He wasn’t fine. Right now, sitting up seemed impossible. Whatever had he done that had left him so dangerously drained?

“You don’t sound fine,” she said reproachfully. A moment later, she seemed to realize that she was naked.

Even with her golden-brown skin, he could see heat rush to her face, her eyes widening as she hastily pulled the sheet up.

“Sorry,” she said, “it was the only way I could think of to warm you up. I thought you’d frozen to death out there. Even the fire didn’t seem to do much. And in the movies, they always claim that sharing body heat is the only way to survive a blizzard...”

The blizzard.

He remembered now. The unnatural blizzard. The dire wolf shifter who had found them.

He had fought the beast off with what little of his strength had remained after ten years in the ice. It was a surprise that he’d even managed that much.

But then, he’d have happily died out there, if that meant that his mate was safe...

Still, the wolf had escaped. He remembered that much. Even as his strength left him and he’d shifted back, collapsing in the snow, he’d heard the agonized whine of the wounded dire wolf retreating.

Which meant that Angel wasn’t safe. Not yet.

But hopefully, the wolf was as weakened by that fight as Jonathan himself was. He’d bought them at least a day or two.

Hopefully, it would be enough...

“You should drink something hot.” Angel got up, keeping a sheet wrapped around herself.

She stopped by the fireplace and added another log of wood.

When she made her way toward the kitchen, Jonathan realized that he was resting on the floor in front of the fire. There was a warm, fluffy sheep skin beneath him, and the soft down comforter on top of him, together with a pile of heavy woolen blankets.

Beneath, it was pleasantly warm. Even so, he already missed the heat of Angel’s body. Her scent filled the small hollow beneath their tower of blankets, a warm, spicy scent that made him think of Christmas time in a kitchen.

Had she really rested in his arms just moments ago? His mate, skin to skin against his own body, keeping him warm with her own heat?

Perhaps it was a good thing the dire wolf attack had drained him of all his energy. At least his body hadn’t embarrassed him despite her closeness. He wouldn’t have wanted to scare her for anything in the world.

And he wanted to hold her close again. He wanted to hold her close, breathe in the sweet scent of her skin, soak up her warmth and know that she was safe.

That she was here with him.

And that he was at long last gloriously alive once more, his heart filled with love and hope for the first time in many, many years.

“Here,” she said, tiptoeing back to his side. She knelt down, then pressed a cup to his lips. “Hot chocolate. Try to drink some. You nearly died in that storm.”

His lips twitched. “I could say the same about you.” His voice still sounded hoarse, but speaking was a little easier now.

He sipped obediently, the hot chocolate sweet and thick on his tongue.

Angel made him finish the entire cup, then she set it aside.

“How do you feel now?”

“Better.” After a moment, he added, “Still tired.”

She gently pressed her fingers to his forehead again. “You’re all warm now. Good. But you should sleep some more. You really scared me. I had to drag you back in through the snow.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, his eyes already falling closed again. “Won’t happen again...”

The last thing he felt was Angel’s fingers touching his. He wrapped his fingers around hers. Then sleep dragged him under once more.

***

When he woke, everything was different.

The storm had died. When he rose up on his elbows, he could see snow spreading outside, piled high against the window.

The sun was shining down on it. There were no tracks, no sign of life outside.

Good.

At least he’d managed to drive off the dire wolf.

Angel was asleep. She’d crawled back in with him beneath the tower of blankets again. Her skin was warm against his own.

As she breathed in and out, he could feel her chest rise and fall against his.

It was the most peaceful he had ever felt. It was a deeper peace than that of the ice.

His body was awake, and so was his mind. But for the first time, there were no dark memories, no bitterness inside him to distract him from the simple sensation of her breath ghosting warm across his skin.

She felt perfect in his arms. As if she’d always been meant to fit against him.

Or as if he’d always been meant to fit against her.

Ten years ago, he’d turned his back on the world. On life. On hope, longing, even on love.

He’d never even known love. Not like this.

But now that it had burst into his life with the unexpectedness of a blizzard in spring, he felt unsettled.

How had he been able to make that choice ten years ago? He’d almost said no to this.

If I hadn’t woken, she’d be dead now.

The thought was terrifying. He’d only known her a short while, but he knew that he didn’t want to imagine a world without her smile, without the scent of her hair—without the warmth of her skin.

She made another soft sound in her sleep, and this time there was no denying it. His body had recovered enough at last to show a very definitive interest in getting to know her better.

He was hard, achingly so—and she was still sleeping in his arms, trusting him to behave himself.

And that after she saved my life! This doesn’t even mean anything. She was just sharing body heat...

But it was no longer freezing cold. The fire had warmed the room, and while he’d slept, his body had slowly regenerated some of the energy he’d lost in his fight with the dire wolf.

He was still weak. There was a price to pay for sleeping in the ice for ten years. It would take him weeks to even come close to the power he’d had before he’d sealed his heart away in the ice.

But that didn’t matter. Now that he was awake—now that he’d found his mate—he’d never surrender to the seductive call of the ice again.

Now, for the first time in many years, there was a fire burning inside his heart, and the ice in his veins had melted. Heat throbbed through his body, every pulse of his heart sending fire through his arteries.

His shaft was hard and aching—and his heart, which had been empty and frozen for so long, had finally thawed.

His heart felt soft and vulnerable without the protective cover of the ice. He’d once decided that he’d rather sleep forever than risk hurting those he loved again.

But with every moment he spent near his mate, his heart grew stronger. The pulse of his blood had became a loud roar, as if there was a wild thing inside him eager to break free. It wanted to live, to love, to experience everything there was in this world.

And it wanted to claim his mate. His dragon had at last found a treasure worth living for.

What if this goes wrong? What if I hurt her? I can’t be trusted...

But she’d saved him. And he’d saved her. Twice so far, he’d saved her life.

He’d been meant to be here. He’d been meant to protect her.

What had happened before didn’t matter. She was his mate—and right now, she still needed him to protect her. There were far worse things prowling outside than an ice dragon without honor or family.

Angel sighed. She raised a hand to her face, brushing away a lock of hair.

Then she snuggled against him, not quite awake yet, trailing her hand over his chest.

His erection gave another pulse of need, and he bit his lip.

He could feel the softness of her luscious, generous breasts pressing against his side. Her thigh pressed against his, her skin soft as silk. If she shifted just a little, she’d be able to feel what his body was up to...

“Mmm. Morning,” she sighed. Her eyes were still closed.

He could feel his heart beating in his chest. Was she perhaps still dreaming? Had she not yet realized that they were both naked?

Maybe, if he moved carefully, he could somehow get out from beneath the pile of blankets without giving her a good view of his erection...

A second later, she rolled to her side with a shocked gasp. “I didn’t—I didn’t say anything during my sleep, did I?”

She sounded worried.

For a moment, Jonathan forgot his own worries as curiosity rose up inside him. “No, you didn’t. Why? What did you dream of?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said just a little too hastily.

She’d bitten her lips, he now realized. They were plump and dark, gleaming temptingly.

They were still so close that all he’d have to do was lean in a little...

“Are you...are you sure I didn’t?” she asked a moment later, sounding slightly breathless.

Jonathan was too distracted by the view to answer.

They were so close that he could see the shadows of her long eyelashes against the tender skin beneath her eyes.

Her scent enveloped him, the warmth of vanilla and amber making him ache to kiss his way down her throat.

He’d kiss his way further down—all the way down to those gorgeous, dusky nipples he’d gotten a glance of the night before...

Embarrassed, he realized that he’d only made his little problem even bigger.

In the truest sense of the word.

“I only just woke up myself.” His voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears. Did she know what he was thinking about?

“Oh, good.” Her words came out weakly. “Then please, forget I said anything.”

“But I’m curious now.”

He couldn’t believe what he was doing. He should have used his chance to gently extricate himself from her arms. Instead he was... He was flirting with her.

With his embarrassingly hard cock only inches from her skin.

Just come back to life, and already about to ruin it all.

He couldn’t even say whether it was his dragon or him whispering the dry words in his mind.

And it didn’t matter, because they were right. He needed to stop this, now. Before he scared her and drove her away forever.

But with Angel right here in his arms, it was impossible to stop.

“It’s nothing, really.” She sounded breathless, even as she shrugged. “About...about what you’d expect after a day like that. We almost died.”

“So you dreamed about the storm?”

She dreamed about you, his dragon whispered in his mind.

After the long, long sleep, he was still unused to feeling his dragon’s presence again.

“Not the storm.” Angel was silent for a moment, then she took a deep breath. Her eyes were wide, gleaming in the light of the fire. “I think you were in my dream.”

He inhaled, a shiver running through him as his dragon preened within him. “Was it a good dream?”

He was playing with fire, he knew that. Any second she’d find out just how hard he still was, and he doubted that he could blame it all on a dream.

All the same, to rest here with Angel in his arms was a feeling more magical than the moment he’d first spread his wings. More powerful than the moment when her presence had woken him in the ice.

It felt like they’d rested like this forever. He barely knew her, but she felt so right in his arms that he never, ever wanted her to leave again.

We’ve done it the wrong way around. She’s naked in my arms—but she has no reason to trust me. No reason to love me. She doesn’t even know I’m a shifter...

“The very best dream,” Angel said quietly. When she looked at him, her pupils were very wide, her brown eyes almost black.

She was afraid, he realized suddenly. He could feel it... not just from the way her body was tense against his own.

There was a deeper connection between them. The first, fragile stirrings of the bond between two mates.

Could she feel it too? Would she even believe him if he were to explain?

She leaned forward, and before he even knew what he was doing, something inside him had taken over and he’d leaned in as well, pressing his lips to hers.