Chapter 65 Out of Danger
[Nyx]
Lysander pressed his nose against my cheek one last time. I need to shift back. Stay warm.
You too, I sent weakly.
His large brown form moved a short distance away, and I watched as he shifted—bones restructuring, fur receding. In seconds, Lysander stood in human form, naked in the freezing cold, but only for a moment before an Omega rushed over with an emergency thermal suit.
Around us, other wolves were doing the same. Marcus, Seth, Symone—all shifting back to human form. Medical personnel moved quickly, handing out thermal suits, helping those too exhausted or cold to dress themselves efficiently.
Damon's deep gray wolf looked down at Lilith one more time, his eyes full of tenderness. Then he too shifted back to human form. An Omega was there immediately with clothing, helping him into the thermal suit with professional speed.
Within minutes, everyone was dressed and warming. Lysander came back to my side, now in human form and wrapped in the black thermal suit, his hair damp and face showing exhaustion, but his eyes found mine with that familiar intensity.
"Stretchers!" the lead Omega called out. "Two patients for priority airlift!"
Medical teams moved in with folding stretchers. They loaded Lilith first, securing her carefully with straps and additional thermal blankets. Damon stayed right beside her, his hand finding hers.
When they came for me, I tried to stand on my own. My legs immediately gave out.
Lysander was there instantly, catching me. "I've got you," he murmured, helping the Omegas get me onto the stretcher.
"I can walk," I protested weakly.
"No, you can't," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Let us take care of you."
The stretcher teams began moving us toward the helicopters. Around us, I saw other injured being loaded—warriors with frostbite, support personnel with minor injuries. The full scale of the rescue operation was finally visible.
"All Moonblade personnel," Seth's voice came through the radio as he coordinated the evacuation. "Systematic airlift. Priority one—critical patients. Priority two—injured personnel. Priority three—command staff and warriors."
"Shadowcrest teams," Damon's voice added, still holding Lilith's hand as they carried her stretcher. "Same protocol. We evacuate together."
They loaded Lilith into the first helicopter. Damon climbed in beside her, refusing to let go of her hand. I watched as the medics secured her, connecting monitors, adjusting oxygen.
Then they were loading me into the second helicopter. Lysander climbed in immediately after, positioning himself in the seat beside my stretcher.
"Sir, you should wait for the next transport—" an Omega started.
"I'm staying with my wife," Lysander said, his voice carrying that Gamma authority that ended discussions. "Non-negotiable."
The Omega nodded, not arguing further.
The helicopter lifted off, and I felt the mountain falling away beneath us. The rescue site growing smaller. The avalanche zone becoming just another white scar on the mountainside.
Through the window, I could see the third helicopter loading more personnel. The coordinated evacuation continuing with military precision.
We made it, Sylva whispered. We saved her.
Yes, I agreed, my eyes growing heavy. We did...
Lysander's hand found mine, warm and solid and real. Through our bond, I felt his love, his relief, his exhaustion matching my own.
"Sleep," he murmured, his thumb stroking gently across my knuckles. "The flight to the resort is twenty minutes. Rest while you can."
I wanted to stay awake. To watch over Lilith through the helicopter window. To make sure she was really, truly safe.
But the exhaustion was overwhelming. The warmth of the helicopter. The steady thrum of the rotors. The knowledge that we were finally, finally heading to safety.
My eyes closed.
Through our bond, I felt Lysander's steady presence—a warm anchor keeping me tethered even as consciousness slipped away.
I'm here, he sent gently. Always here.
Always, I echoed.
Then the darkness took me, warm and safe and utterly at peace.
[Lysander]
The helicopter's rotors thrummed steadily as we flew toward the resort, the mountain falling away beneath us. I sat in the cramped medical seat, Nyx cradled carefully in my arms. The medics had strapped her stretcher in place, but I'd pulled her upper body against my chest, needing to feel her breathing, needing to hold her.
She hadn't moved since she'd closed her eyes on the mountain. Not a twitch, not a shift in position. Just deep, still sleep—her face peaceful, her breathing even, but utterly motionless in a way that made my chest tight.
"Her vitals are stable, sir," one of the medical staff said, checking the portable monitor attached to Nyx's arm. "Heart rate steady. Temperature rising. She's doing well."
I nodded but didn't release my hold on her. I looked down at Nyx's face—so pale against my black thermal suit, white hair falling across her forehead. I brushed it back gently with one hand, the other arm secure around her waist.
Her skin was warming against mine. That was good. The shivering had stopped. But the complete stillness...
I tightened my arm around her slightly, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my chest. She'd pushed too hard on that mountain—tracking through waist-deep snow, digging through avalanche debris, staying in wolf form in freezing temperatures for hours. Of course her body had crashed.
The medic checked his watch. "Twenty minutes to landing, sir. They've prepared a suite for her at the resort—full medical equipment."
"Good."
The helicopter began its descent, and I instinctively held Nyx closer, protecting her from the slight turbulence. Her head rested against my shoulder, completely trusting even in unconsciousness.
The helicopter touched down on the resort's emergency landing pad with barely a tremor. Professional. Efficient. Everything about this evacuation had been executed with military precision, but I didn't give a damn about efficiency right now.
Nyx still hadn't moved since she closed her eyes.