CHAPTER eight: Stuck in the blizzard

　　CONROY’s P.O.V

　　Acting hastily, I drew the fur cloak to the side and unfastened the girl’s kirtle and tugged it down her shoulders, carefully tugging her limp arms through the neck opening to finally yank the garment down to her legs, then off. I saw that the edges of the frock were ruined with the mud outside.

　　“What are you, my Killer mate?” I asked in bewilderment for she looked dead to the world.

　　“Had she gotten up while I was out?”

　　I shook her, half hoping that she was truly awake, “Enough of your theatrics, if you are awake then save me the heartache, torment and say a word.”

　　She remained still.

　　“I know of the truth and the prophecy of witch the old hag, Esme spoke about. But what I do not understand is it’s tie to my mate.” I now addressed the silent room.

　　“Dear killer mate, you had tried to kill me, yet here I am, almost dying for you, to save you.” I chuckled darkly.