What Happens To Sandy Irvine In Fearless On Everest?

For three years, she was just his transparent, obedient wife. He never knew that the girl who saved him from the raging ocean—and gave up her Olympic dream to marry him—was the very woman he just divorced.

Ice had seen courage under fire, in many cases literally, back in his SEAL days. But he’d never seen anything like Vixen that day. When he first caught sight of her, she was standing with her feet wide apart, solidly braced on those mile-high, mid-thigh black boots, the ones that he loved fucking her in. Her minute green skirt had ridden high and tight up her perfect legs, and her dark eyes were dilated to black as she grimly stared down the approaching vehicle, shooting and shooting, both hands holding the gun. She’d looked every inch the hot female assassin in some blockbuster Hollywood movie, right down to her hair flowing behind her in the autumn wind. **** Ice Johansson is the Road Devils MC’s Chief Enforcer: cold, ruthless, and built for violence. He doesn’t feel guilt, except where Vix is concerned. Weeks ago, he crossed a line with the one woman who mattered to him. Now an enemy attack leaves her badly injured, and Ice wants one thing: to protect her, if she’ll let him close again. Victoria “Vixen” Shaw owns her reputation as the club’s favorite ride. No shame. No apologies. For eighteen months, though, she’s been Ice’s alone. What he did shattered her trust, but when Ice becomes her caretaker – no sex, no demands, just presence – she begins to see the man beneath the ice. As the Road Devils are pushed to the brink, Ice and Vix find intimacy where they never expected it: clothed, raw, and vulnerable. But if Ice reveals the darkest parts of himself – the violence he embraces to protect his family – can Vix accept him? And even if she does, can loving a man like Ice ever truly be safe?

ICE- The Alpha’s Unwanted Omega BOOK 2 "I never asked for your touch, Omega. But now that I have the scent of your soul on my skin, I’m never letting you go." Ethan Carter, the Glacier of Silvercrest, has finally thawed—and he is starving. In the high-stakes sequel to The Alpha’s Unwanted Omega, the cold ice of the rink meets the scorching heat of a fated bond that refuses to be ignored. Collins is no longer just a stabilizer; he is a target. As a male-on-male (BXB) werewolf romance dripping with dark obsession and protective heat, this second chapter pushes their boundaries to the breaking point. Someone wants the Alpha dead, but Ethan is too busy claiming every inch of his Omega. In this world of hockey and howling, the only thing more dangerous than a predator’s temper is the erotic fire of his claim. Frozen hearts don't just shatter—they melt.

We got caught in a blizzard—me, my fiancé Melvin Dunn, a few of his colleagues, including Sally Blom. Middle of the night, I woke up shaking. My heavy-duty sleeping bag—the one built for minus forty—was gone. In its place? A flimsy summer quilt. Sally was curled up in my bag, fast asleep in Melvin's arms. I shoved him hard. "Why is she in my sleeping bag?" He pulled me aside, whispering, "Keep your voice down. Sally's kinda fragile—she's about to catch a cold. You're strong. You'll be fine." I pointed at my feet, already numb. "So I'm supposed to freeze to death for you two because she's 'fragile'?" He frowned. "God, Peyton, stop being so dramatic. It's just a sleeping bag. Think about the team for once." I laughed, tears slipping down my face. Didn't say another word. Just crawled back into the corner, grabbed the sat phone, and called my brother—Captain of Stormfang Rescue, an elite international search and rescue team. "Hugh, come get me. The coordinates are... Remember—I'm alone."

A fierce storm erupts on a mountain peak at 25,561 feet, trapping me in the mountain camp under heavy snow. My husband, the leader of the mountain excursion squad, ignores my desperate pleas and hands the last oxygen tank to his beloved true love. "You're a professional climber—you won't die from missing a few breaths," he snaps. "Olivia has always been frail. Without oxygen, she's done for!" I watch as the two of them lean on each other, making their way down the cliffside, and I fall into complete despair. He's already forgotten that my body hasn't been able to survive without oxygen at high altitudes since saving him two years ago.

As the only expert in the world capable of rescue dives below 3,000 feet, I received a once-in-a-lifetime salvage contract worth tens of millions of dollars. I had dived in those same waters over a decade ago. My son's research submersible had been damaged on the ocean floor. After his oxygen ran out, he suffocated in the dark. The grief nearly destroyed me. My husband, Griffin Lattimer, held me through it, staying by my side through countless miserable nights. I found out later that he had personally redirected the only rescue vessel capable of reaching the depths our son was at to save his childhood friend's daughter. That girl had merely choked on a mouthful of water in the shallows. I divorced Griffin and threw myself into deep-sea salvage like a woman possessed, diving over and over until I knew the undercurrents of those waters better than I knew my own home. I never wanted another child to die the way mine did. Today brought the same stretch of ocean, the same crushed hull, the same depleted oxygen, and the same impossible odds. When I opened the client's file, I went completely still. I recognized the name and face inside instantly. I would never forget either of them for as long as I lived. I smiled and slid the folder back across the table to my partner. "I can't take this one."