Chapter 53 Blood on Snow
[Nyx]
The helicopter blades churned the air into a deafening roar as we descended. Through the window, all I could see was white—endless, merciless white. Snow swirled in violent patterns, blurring the line between sky and earth.
My heart climbed into my throat as we dropped lower. The pilot's voice crackled through the headset, words clipped and professional, but I could hear the tension underneath. "Thirty seconds to landing. Visibility critical. Hold tight."
I gripped the seat handle, knuckles white. Beside me, Lysander sat perfectly still, his amber eyes fixed on the chaos below. But I caught the slight tension in his jaw, the way his hand flexed and released.
His hand found mine, warm and steady despite the chaos. He didn't say anything—didn't need to. The squeeze of his fingers said enough: I'm here. We'll find her.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Lilith needs me. Control your breathing. Save your strength.
The helicopter lurched, tilting as wind slammed into us. My heart hammered against my ribs. Through the storm, I glimpsed dark shapes moving—rescue workers, their forms barely visible against the white landscape.
And then I saw them.
Rows of still forms covered in silver emergency blankets. Injured. Already recovered and being treated.
My breath caught.
The helicopter touched down hard, jarring my teeth. Before the pilot could finish his landing checklist, Lysander had unbuckled and pushed open the door. Arctic wind slammed into us, stealing the air from my lungs. The cold was immediate and vicious, biting through layers of tactical gear.
"Move!" Lysander's command cut through the wind.
I jumped down, boots sinking into deep snow. The world tilted and spun—wind, snow, sound, all crashing together in sensory overload. My eyes watered instantly, tears freezing on my lashes.
Focus. Lilith is under there somewhere.
"Seth, Marcus—unload equipment!" Lysander's voice carried over the storm. "Symone, contact site command! Everyone check your comms!"
I stumbled forward, scanning the devastation. The avalanche zone stretched before us—a massive white scar down the mountainside. Chunks of ice the size of cars jutted from the snow. Trees lay snapped like matchsticks.
Somewhere under all that...
"Nyx." Lysander's hand closed around my arm, steadying me. His eyes met mine, fierce with warning and something else—fear. "Remember our agreement. Follow commands."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
A figure emerged from the snow fog—tall, dark-haired, moving with desperate urgency. Even through the storm, I recognized the authority in his bearing.
Alpha Damon Blackwood.
He looked destroyed. Snow caked his hair and shoulders. His eyes—normally sharp and commanding—were bloodshot and wild. When he saw our team, something like hope flickered across his face.
"You finally came!" His voice cracked with emotion. "Moonblade's rescue team! Thank god you made it—we're so far from your territory, I wasn't sure... Please... please help me find them..."
Lysander stepped forward, radiating controlled calm. "Alpha Blackwood. Report."
"Three people buried!" Damon's hand gestured frantically toward the avalanche zone. "All young people from the gathering. One from Shadowcrest, one from Moonblade, one from Silverpine Pack. The avalanche hit one hour and twenty minutes ago. "We've recovered five—all critically injured, barely hanging on..." His voice broke. "If we don't find the others soon..."
He couldn't finish.
My heart stopped. Five critically injured. Three still buried.
"My fiancée Lilith is still down there," Damon continued, voice raw. "And my sister Selene... they..."
A scream tore through the wind.
We all turned.
A girl—no, a young woman—came stumbling through the snow. Her movements were uncoordinated, desperate. As she drew closer, I could make out her features: maybe twenty-one, slight build, completely soaked through. Brown hair hung in tangled, frozen strands around a face streaked with tears and snow melt.
Blood stained her knees where her ski pants had torn.
Her amber eyes—so like her brother's—were swollen from crying.
"Brother!" She collapsed against Damon, sobbing. "Brother... it's all my fault... all my fault...!"
Damon caught her, arms wrapping tight. "Selene... you're safe... you're safe..."
"It was me..." Selene's words came in gasping sobs. "I said I wanted to go skiing... I dragged Lilith along... if it wasn't for me... she wouldn't..."
Her voice dissolved into incomprehensible crying.
Something hot and terrible surged through my chest.
I said I wanted to go skiing.
I dragged Lilith along.
I moved before conscious thought caught up. My boots crunched through snow as I closed the distance between us.
"You?" My voice came out cold. Dead. "You're the one who dragged my sister skiing?"
Selene's head jerked up. Her tear-streaked face went pale.
"I... I didn't mean to... I just..."
"There's been a blizzard warning for days!" My volume rose despite every attempt at control. "Everyone knew the mountain was dangerous! Why the hell would you go up there in this weather?!"
"We... we thought it would be okay..." Selene trembled, tears streaming faster. "The activity organizer said that area was safe... we just wanted to..."
"Safe?!" I felt something crack inside me. "Look around you! Look at those bodies! You tell me where it's safe! My sister is buried in the snow right now! She might already be dead! All because of your selfishness!"
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Selene crumpled, knees hitting the snow. Her whole body shook with sobs. "It's my fault... I shouldn't have... I really shouldn't have..."
She could barely breathe through the crying.
Damon moved between us instantly, his Alpha authority flaring. "Enough! Miss Verdant, I know you're worried about your sister, but this isn't Selene's fault!"
"Not her fault?" I laughed, the sound bitter. "She dragged my sister out there!"
"It was an accident! Nobody wanted this!" Damon's voice rose. "Look at Selene—she almost died too! Her knees are bleeding because she ran to get help!"
"But Lilith is still down there!" My control shattered. "She might be dead!"
"My fiancée is also buried!" Damon stepped closer, eyes flashing. "You think you're the only one worried?!"
A solid wall of heat appeared in front of me.
Lysander.
"Alpha Blackwood." His voice was ice. Pure, crystalline ice. "Step back."
Damon froze. "What?"
"My wife has every right to be angry." Lysander's eyes glowed amber, his Alpha presence pushing outward. "Her sister is buried under snow, alive or dead unknown. If you can't handle her emotions, we leave. Now."