A Lesson of Intensity: Season of Desire Part 2 (Seasons Quartet) Read Online Free
Author: Sadie Matthews
storm is sheer foolhardy madness. Almost instantly I’m blinded by snow, stumbling forward into a wind that cuts into my face like hundreds of tiny knives. How will I ever see Miles in this? He could be anywhere.
I have to try. I can’t just abandon him.
I keep going, forcing myself forward against the grim strength of the wind that buffets and batters at me. It almost floors me with its punching gusts, but I manage to stay upright and stagger on for a few more minutes before I come to a halt. I try to shout for Miles but my voice is a tiny reed-like sound that is lost instantly in the squalling wind and my mouth fills with snow the moment I open it.
It’s no good! I’ll have to go back. I won’t be able to do a circuit in this.
Fighting to stay on my feet, I turn back the way I’ve come – and then realise to my horror that I can’t see the hut. I can’t have walked more than a few metres from it, but I can see nothing in the whirling snowy air. I wonder if I’ve turned exactly 180 degrees to face the way I came, so that if I go straight on I’ll just get there somehow – and immediately lose all sense of direction. I have no idea how far I’ve turned.
A cold, clammy realisation comes over me. If I’m facing the wrong way and begin to walk, I’ll be walking to my death. Without a doubt.
I feel desperately afraid. Everything hinges on what I do next. A surge of anger at myself washes through me before I banish it resolutely. I can’t waste time on regretting things. I’m here now and I have to deal with it. I take a step forward into the storm, with the sure certainty that my fate is now decided, and there’s no way of knowing yet if I’ve made the right choice or not. I take another step and then another. I’m committed now. I can only go on.
I begin to pray. Are you there, Goddess Freya? If you are, I’m in a sticky situation and I need your help. Please, please guide me to where I need to go. Please…
My arms are stretched out in front of me, my fingers, ice-cold, reaching for the stone of the hut wall that could be mere metres away – or in another direction entirely. I blink away the blinding snowflakes, trying desperately to see something, anything, that isn’t whirling and white.
Then I see it. My prayers have been answered. A dark shape is emerging from the storm. It must be the hut. I stagger forward to meet it, and it resolves not into the stone wall of the hut but into a figure and I’m falling into a pair of strong arms.
Miles!
Deep gratitude and relief rise up inside me and I send up a heartfelt thank you to the goddess. He’s here. It’s going to be all right.
He’s shouting something in my ear, but I can’t make out what it is. Then he wraps one arm around me and turns me slightly to the right. We begin to stumble forward together, only able to concentrate on pressing into the force of the buffeting wind. It’s only a few minutes before the dark bulk of the hut shows through the storm but it feels like much longer, and another age seems to pass before Miles is yanking open the door and we are falling into the blissful quiet and relative warmth of its interior.
‘What the hell were you thinking?’ Miles yells, his angry voice ripping through the silence.
I jump, startled. I’m so happy and relieved to be back that his fury shocks me. ‘What?’
‘You fucking stupid child! Why the hell did you go out into that? Are you suicidal or something?’ His dark hair looks white, it’s so thick with snowflakes. They hang on his eyelashes and frost his cheeks. His shoulders are coated with a layer of snow and he begins to brush himself off, while still berating me. ‘You have to have a brain like a peanut to take such a crazy risk. How on earth am I supposed to protect you if you indulge in such stupidity? Christ!’ He looks seriously angry.
I’m indignant at the injustice and try to shout back but my chattering teeth and
I have to try. I can’t just abandon him.
I keep going, forcing myself forward against the grim strength of the wind that buffets and batters at me. It almost floors me with its punching gusts, but I manage to stay upright and stagger on for a few more minutes before I come to a halt. I try to shout for Miles but my voice is a tiny reed-like sound that is lost instantly in the squalling wind and my mouth fills with snow the moment I open it.
It’s no good! I’ll have to go back. I won’t be able to do a circuit in this.
Fighting to stay on my feet, I turn back the way I’ve come – and then realise to my horror that I can’t see the hut. I can’t have walked more than a few metres from it, but I can see nothing in the whirling snowy air. I wonder if I’ve turned exactly 180 degrees to face the way I came, so that if I go straight on I’ll just get there somehow – and immediately lose all sense of direction. I have no idea how far I’ve turned.
A cold, clammy realisation comes over me. If I’m facing the wrong way and begin to walk, I’ll be walking to my death. Without a doubt.
I feel desperately afraid. Everything hinges on what I do next. A surge of anger at myself washes through me before I banish it resolutely. I can’t waste time on regretting things. I’m here now and I have to deal with it. I take a step forward into the storm, with the sure certainty that my fate is now decided, and there’s no way of knowing yet if I’ve made the right choice or not. I take another step and then another. I’m committed now. I can only go on.
I begin to pray. Are you there, Goddess Freya? If you are, I’m in a sticky situation and I need your help. Please, please guide me to where I need to go. Please…
My arms are stretched out in front of me, my fingers, ice-cold, reaching for the stone of the hut wall that could be mere metres away – or in another direction entirely. I blink away the blinding snowflakes, trying desperately to see something, anything, that isn’t whirling and white.
Then I see it. My prayers have been answered. A dark shape is emerging from the storm. It must be the hut. I stagger forward to meet it, and it resolves not into the stone wall of the hut but into a figure and I’m falling into a pair of strong arms.
Miles!
Deep gratitude and relief rise up inside me and I send up a heartfelt thank you to the goddess. He’s here. It’s going to be all right.
He’s shouting something in my ear, but I can’t make out what it is. Then he wraps one arm around me and turns me slightly to the right. We begin to stumble forward together, only able to concentrate on pressing into the force of the buffeting wind. It’s only a few minutes before the dark bulk of the hut shows through the storm but it feels like much longer, and another age seems to pass before Miles is yanking open the door and we are falling into the blissful quiet and relative warmth of its interior.
‘What the hell were you thinking?’ Miles yells, his angry voice ripping through the silence.
I jump, startled. I’m so happy and relieved to be back that his fury shocks me. ‘What?’
‘You fucking stupid child! Why the hell did you go out into that? Are you suicidal or something?’ His dark hair looks white, it’s so thick with snowflakes. They hang on his eyelashes and frost his cheeks. His shoulders are coated with a layer of snow and he begins to brush himself off, while still berating me. ‘You have to have a brain like a peanut to take such a crazy risk. How on earth am I supposed to protect you if you indulge in such stupidity? Christ!’ He looks seriously angry.
I’m indignant at the injustice and try to shout back but my chattering teeth and
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