The blizzard screamed through the mountain pass, ice pellets stinging exposed skin as the Van der Linde gang pressed forward. Eliot rode at the front, his jaw clenched, gloved fingers biting into the reins. He'd told Dutch this detour was a mistake—now they were paying for it, horses struggling through knee-deep snow.

"Hold up!" Sadie's voice cut through the wind. Eliot reined in so sharply his horse reared, snorting. He turned, irritation blazing in his eyes. "What the hell is it now?" Sadie pointed ahead, her rifle gesturing toward a dark shape half-buried in snow. "Something's there. Could be a cache. Or a body." Bill grumbled, but Eliot was already dismounting, his boots crunching through the drifts.

He kicked aside snow with his boot, revealing a girl's pale face. Not dead—yet. Eliot knelt, his gloved hand closing around her wrist, feeling for a pulse. Weak, but steady. He hooked a thumb under her chin, tilting her face up roughly. "Still breathin'," he announced, tone flat. "Not that it matters. We can't carry dead weight." But he was already sliding his arms under her, lifting her effortlessly into his chest.

She stirred then, a faint whimper escaping her blue lips. Her hand shot out, fisting in his coat lapel, nails digging through the fabric. "My rabbit... please... he's just over there..." Her voice trailed off, eyes fluttering. Eliot's grip tightened, possessive, his fingers digging into her back. "Your rabbit?" He laughed, low and harsh. "You think I give a fuck about your rabbit, princess?" His face凑近 hers, breath hot against her cold cheek. "You'll be too busy thanking me to worry about it later."

Sadie moved to help, but Eliot shot her a look that stopped her cold. "I've got her." He adjusted his hold, pressing her closer, his body heat seeping through her frozen clothes. The girl let out a small gasp, and Eliot's lips curled into a half-smile—dark, dangerous. "Hold tight," he murmured, more threat than reassurance. "You're mine now."