Darcy comes up the ridge through the drifting snow with the claim papers in her fist. The mountain has already taken too much from both of us, but this land is the last line.

I take her pack at the doorway and tell her what the claim will cost. She does not walk back down, and something in me refuses to let go.

The rival will steal everything if we don't secure it. The only way to bind the claim is through her body, to breed her until no one can dispute the legacy we create together. She yields on the surface, but I see the fight in her eyes, the same fear of being left that keeps me silent. I dread the moment she realizes what this mountain demands of her, what I demand, yet the thought of her leaving pulls at the old wounds I buried here. Now if I start this, there's no going back before the deadline claims us both.