The rain gave way to snow shortly after the noon hour passed. It fell in soft waves of white. Katyia pulled her coat around her to help ward off some of the cold. She'd taken to her own horse when they'd stopped earlier to eat a bite and let the horses rest. It wasn't good to ride them hard in frigid temperatures. The colder it got, the more concerned she became for them. These mountains frequently dropped below freezing in the middle of the day. The horses' noses could ice over, causing them distress. They never took the horses on days like this. Instead they were kept in a heated barn. Poor Storm. She felt so sorry for him.

Her eyes strayed to where Roman rode at the front of the line. All she could see was his backside. He rode with his back ramrod straight. Stiff and unforgiving. Much like his personality. She was still reeling from his earlier declaration.

His mate.

Katyia had no clue how to respond to that. How was she supposed to know if she was his mate or not? He said vampires simply knew. Well, la de dah, she was a new vampire with only a smattering of training. He expected her to make life altering decisions on the spur of the moment? Just like that? Nope. Not going to happen. Katyia thought things through, tested out theories, and then made decisions based on the results of those experiments.

Not that she didn't have feelings for the brute. She did. And in his own roundabout way, she thought maybe he'd admitted to having feelings for her. He'd talked about protecting and cherishing and all that. He might even have said love somewhere in that ramble. Her brain kept circling the drain over the mate word.

Would it be that bad to belong to Roman? Despite his brutish tendencies, he could be sweet, even kind. He'd taken care of her since he picked her up out of the snow. Protected her from his people and even herself. Could that be him showing her how he cared? Her hand snuck up to touch the place where he'd bitten her. It hurt, but then she expected that. A person didn't have their flesh punctured and not have it hurt. He said he'd marked her. What did that mean? Would the wound never go away? Just be there on display for forever?

"It still hurt?"

She looked up to see Greggor beside her. He leaned in to see the wound when she removed her hand. "The bruising is going away, at least. The tattoo will show up better once the wound heals."

"Tattoo?"

"Roman didn't tell you?"

She laughed, the sound harsh. "He didn't really say much of anything except to order me to be his mate."

Greggor winced. "Not his finest moment."

She sent him a flat stare. Sometimes Greggor made her laugh, other times his charm could be irritating.

"I guess it's sort of my fault he dropped it on you like he did." He looked sheepish, his hands playing with the reins. "I might have told him if he didn't claim you, I would."

"You did what?" she squawked.

"Roman is slow to action when it comes to things that could potentially make him happy. I know my brother. He would have waited around until it was too late and you'd found yourself someone else to be happy with."

"He said a vampire knows his mate...but I don't know what I feel. Why is he so certain when I'm not?"

Greggor glanced at his brother's figure ahead. "Your scent. It calls to him, tells his beast you are the only one who can soothe it. You bring out the man and not the beast. He smiles around you. I've even heard him laugh a few times. You frustrate him, you challenge him, you are his opposite. All good things. I've never seen my brother truly happy. Until you. He might be all gruff and surly, but you are softening his edges, just as a mate is supposed to do."

"That's all well and good for him, but what about me?" Katyia growled in frustration. "I don't understand any of this."

"Let's think this through, okay?" Greggor slowed their horses. "What is the first word that comes to mind when you think of Roman?"

"Safe." Easy question.

"He makes you feel safe and protected. That's a good start. What else do you feel?"

"More confident. Bold."

"Traits he brings out in you." Greggor nodded sagely. "Our true mates bring out the best in us, traits we didn't even know we possessed."

"He's a really good kisser too," she whispered.

Greggor laughed. "Always a plus."

"I do like him," she admitted. "Despite himself."

"Then why are you so upset about being claimed as his mate?" Greggor asked her. "Shouldn't you at least give this a chance? Roman is a good man. He deserves to be happy, Katyia. You make him happy."

"Would you like to be told you're someone's mate and deal with it?" She scrunched her nose. "I do not like being told I am someone's property."

"Did he call you his property?" Greggor asked, appalled. "We do not treat our women like chattel."

"Well, no, not directly. It was just his high handed way of telling me. It made me feel owned and I don't like that feeling at all, Greggor. If I am going to choose someone to be my...mate, I guess I want it to be because they loved me and not because of some kind of weird supernatural thing."

"Who's to say he doesn't love you?"

"I've known him all of a week."

"So?" Greggor shrugged. "Why can't you know if you love someone in a week? People get too involved in their doubts. They overthink everything. Your body will tell you if you are attracted to him. Your instincts will guide you to find the qualities about him you admire. That can lead the heart to love what's right in front of it even if the people involved are too stubborn for their own good."

"I'm not stubborn."

He laughed so loud, Storm flicked his head, startled. She shoved him off his horse. He hit the ground, still laughing. Roman was there in a heartbeat, his eyes assessing. "What happened?"

"Your brother is an idiot."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Greggor lay in the falling snow, smiling like a goof. "She says she's not stubborn."

Roman's eyebrows raced toward his hairline. He tried to hide the smile teasing his lips. Katyia glared. "Do you think I'm stubborn?"

"Well, you did nag me..."

"I do not nag!" The very idea. Nag him? She shoved him and he fell off his horse, flailing, not expecting her attack. His elbow landed squarely in Greggor's gut, his breath whooshing out in a painful grunt. Roman looked unsure of what to do and then he joined his brother in the laughfest.

Laughing at her, were they? She smiled her cattiest smile and urged Storm to move back. Once she had some distance between them. She held out her hands and let the snow land in them. She used the snowflakes to ground her and tap into the elemental magic around her. In her mind's eye she saw the snowballs form in the snow, saw them rise up around her.

Roman and Greggor pulled themselves to their feet, staring at her in something akin to horrified awe. She and Nicolette ruled the snowball fights in their family. Easy as pie. She pulled them forward with a flick of her wrist, lined them up, and then shouted "Fire!"

Too late, they tried to run. There was no hiding from Katyia's aim. She showed the men the same mercy she'd shown her brothers—none. The snowballs flew toward them, curving with them as they tried to duck and dodge. One after the other, they found their mark. By the time the last one smashed Greggor in the face, they were both out of breath and looking very much the worse for wear.

She smiled at them from atop her horse. "Don't irritate a witch. It never ends well."

***

Roman watched her turn her horse around, the animal trotting off like he carried the Queen of Sheba herself. He looked at his brother, his hair dripping water from the melted snow, and burst out laughing. Oh, dear God. That woman.

Greggor grinned and slapped him on the back. "You've got your hands full with that one. Remind me to never piss her off."

He shook the snow out of his hair, his laughter rumbling through his chest. "She's magnificent."

"Finally figuring that out, are you?" Greggor winked and dusted himself off.

"Which was your point earlier, wasn't it?" Roman studied his brother, trying to discern the truth behind the smile.

Greggor shrugged. "Sometimes we have to give you a good strong kick to get you moving. You're as stubborn as she is."

"And if I had decided to let her go?"

"Then I would have snapped her up in a heartbeat." Greggor's smile faded.

Roman nodded. His brother had never lied to him before and he wasn't about to start now, even if it did make Roman's vision go a little red. He also knew Greggor wouldn't touch Katyia now that Roman had claimed her. It settled his beast down.

"But now I'll do everything I can to help you hold on to her," Greggor promised. "She likes you and thinks you are a really good kisser."

"I'm a good kisser, am I?" Roman preened. At least he'd done one thing right with her.

"Her hesitancy doesn't have anything to do with her not caring about you. It's more about the way you handled her. That woman doesn't like to feel like property."

Roman grimaced. He could see where she'd probably thought he'd been laying down the law. It wasn't his finest hour. His emotions, hormones, and his instincts had all been clamoring to claim her at all costs. That mix tended to be volatile to begin with. Add in her resistance, she was lucky he hadn't found somewhere and shown exactly how much his beast owned her.

"It is the strangest thing," he told his brother. "When I hear her try to question our being mates, it's like the beast that lives inside of us turns territorial. It demands I show her how wrong she is. In my head it is ownership. She is mine. Simple."

"But it's not that simple, Roman."

"I know." His shoulders slumped. "I can't lose her, Greggor, not now."

"You won't," Greggor promised. "Just try to remember to be more considerate and less..."

"Brutish?" he supplied.

Greggor failed to hide his grin.

"Come on." Roman collected their horses. "Let's catch up before they get too far ahead. I'm uneasy."

"Aye," Gregor agreed. "I've felt something watching us too."

"Ravager?" Roman mounted Goliath.

"Maybe." Greggor shrugged, mounting his own horse. "Could be anything. Won't know till they decide to make a move."

Roman's mood turned from playful to warrior in a heartbeat. No one was going to harm his mate. Not on his watch.