Chapter 57 A Heartbeat in the Snow
[Nyx]
Damon's dark gray giant wolf followed close behind, carrying his sister Selene. The other wolves with their medical personnel moved in coordinated formation—Seth's team taking the left flank, Marcus's team the right, our center team advancing between them.
I continued directing through mind-link: Maintain your zone assignments. Ten-meter intervals within each team. Advance southwest.
Use scent to search for human smell.
Note any anomalies under snow—temperature, scent, sound.
Lysander's voice in the link: Yes, Nyx.
Other Moonblade warriors echoed: Yes!
Damon's wolf, carrying Selene, kept pace with the formation. Though unable to communicate through mind-link with Moonblade, he could see the team's movements and follow rhythm. His steps remained steady, ensuring his sister wouldn't fall from jarring.
Selene clutched her brother's fur, knuckles white. Tears fell uncontrollably.
"Not... not Lilith..." she whispered. "Please, Moon Goddess... not her..."
Damon felt his sister's tension. His pace grew more careful, providing maximum support and security.
Selene's eyes locked forward, searching through the blizzard for any possible clue.
Lilith... please... still be alive...
Let me still have a chance... to apologize to you...
Brother's risking himself to save you...
Please...
Twelve wolves advanced through deep snow, organized into three search teams with coordinated zones. Each with medical personnel on their backs. White snow, gray sky, obscured vision.
But the team's objective blazed clear.
We would find her.
We had to find her.
And we were running out of time.
Twenty minutes into the search, and my heart hadn't stopped hammering against my ribs. Three teams had covered more than half the avalanche zone, all pushing southwest in formation. Every wolf carried a medical specialist on their back, maintaining precise spacing as they swept through the deep snow.
The blizzard showed no mercy. Wind screamed across the exposed slope, driving ice crystals into any exposed skin like tiny knives. Visibility remained brutally limited—perhaps fifteen meters on a good moment, less than ten when the gusts picked up. But we kept moving, kept searching, because somewhere under all this white death, Lilith was waiting.
I gripped Lysander's thick fur tighter, feeling the powerful muscles ripple beneath as he navigated the treacherous terrain. His massive brown wolf form moved with practiced efficiency, each step deliberate and sure despite the unstable snow. Through our growing connection, I could sense his focus—absolute, unwavering, every sense trained on finding survivors.
Captain! Marcus's voice suddenly crackled through the mind-link, sharp with excitement. Here! Right wing team has something!
My pulse spiked. "All teams!" I barked into the radio, simultaneously projecting through the link. "Converge on Marcus's position! Right wing has a potential target!"
Marcus, report! Lysander's command cut through the mental channel with characteristic authority.
Lysander's wolf wheeled instantly, breaking into a full sprint toward the right flank. Symone's left wing team pivoted sharply, and even Damon—unable to communicate through our pack's link—immediately adjusted course, reading the sudden shift in formation.
Human scent! Marcus's gray wolf had his nose pressed against the snow, digging frantically. And there's warmth! Body heat!
A heartbeat! His mental voice rang with hope. I can feel a pulse! It's weak, but it's there!
My chest constricted. Are you certain? The question came out sharper than intended, fear and hope warring in my throat.
Positive! Marcus's certainty blazed through the link. The heart is beating. Extremely slow, but definitely beating. Just below this spot— His wolf's nose pointed to a specific area. I can feel it clearly.
"Support teams!" I shouted into the radio as Lysander closed the distance. "Prepare to dismount! Bring all emergency equipment! This is a live one—move fast but careful!"
We reached Marcus's position in perhaps thirty seconds. All the wolves formed a tight circle, their massive forms creating a windbreak against the storm. Marcus's wolf remained prone, nose still indicating the exact spot.
I slid off Lysander's back, boots sinking deep. "Dig! But carefully—we can't risk injuring whoever's down there!"
The medical Omegas scrambled from their wolf mounts, medical kits and emergency packs already in hand. They rushed to the indicated position while the wolves began excavating with controlled urgency.
Could it be Lilith? The thought screamed through my mind, desperate and terrified.
Lysander's brown wolf took the lead on excavation, his enormous paws clearing massive amounts of snow. His control was perfect—Gamma strength wielded with surgical precision. As they neared the body, his movements became increasingly delicate, careful not to harm whoever lay beneath.
One meter... two meters... two and a half...
"There!" One of the medical Omegas pointed. A strand of honey-brown hair emerged from the white. My heart sank slightly—not Lilith's pale gold—but relief surged simultaneously. Someone was alive. We'd found someone alive.
"Continue! Watch the head and neck carefully!"
More snow cleared away, revealing a young woman's face. Maybe eighteen years old. Her skin was paper-white, lips purple with cold, but her chest showed shallow, almost imperceptible movement.
She was breathing.
I dropped to my knees beside her immediately. Basic emergency training—every Alpha learned it—kicked in automatically. Fingers to her neck: "Pulse extremely weak... under thirty beats per minute..."
I leaned close, checking respiration: "Breathing nearly stopped... severe oxygen deprivation..."
My hand touched her exposed skin: "Body temperature critically low... profound hypothermia..."
I grabbed the thermal blanket from my emergency kit, wrapping it around her with quick, efficient movements. "Medical team!"
Three medical Omegas surrounded us instantly, their professional assessment already underway.
"Patient status?" the lead Omega asked, kneeling opposite me.
"Severe hypothermia, critically low heart rate, minimal respiration," I reported crisply. "Initial warming measures applied."
"Oxygen mask!" the lead Omega commanded.
Another Omega passed it over. They fitted the mask over her blue-tinged lips while a second positioned portable heat packs inside the thermal blanket. The third prepared emergency medications.
On Damon's back, Selene—unable to participate in the digging—suddenly called out, "Her head's turned to the side! Check for airway obstruction from vomit!"
The medical Omega immediately verified: "Confirmed! Airway clear!"
"Cover her head with the thermal blanket!" Selene continued, her medical training taking over despite her own injuries. "Reduce heat loss!"
"Already on it!" another Omega responded.
"Check limbs for fractures—if there are any, we need extra care during transport!"
"No obvious fractures detected," came the reply, "but she needs full examination."