CHAPTER 165

Evelyn slipped inside the yurt to find Mikado cradling a tiny squalling snow polar bear against his chest. Every muscle ached with fatigue, exhaustion scratched at her eyeballs, but she couldn’t help smile at the impossibly beautiful, totally improbable scrap of fur. Then it struck her. If the cubs were in a box in their yurt, then Sheba was unquestionably dead.

Everything she feared had come true. Except the cubs were alive…for now. “Do you have any yak’s milk we can feed them?” she asked.

He nodded. The cubs were thin and cold and wouldn’t survive long without nourishment.

“They were right here, in this box.” The inuit man tapped the cardboard box on the floor with his boot, his brown eyes shining as he jiggled the cub like a baby.

A growling sound from inside the box had her reaching down and pulling out a soft tawny bundle covered in inky black spots. The bundle cuddled into her chest for warmth. Evelyn’s eyes ros
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