Page 31 of Mountain Summons

“Two things. One, I don’t see you offering dates with anyone from your team, so you’re not leading by example. Two, Océane will kill you if she hears you talk about us as firemen.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to piss off the Ice Queen,” Lorenz chuckled. “Come on, let’s get out of here, before anybody notices we’re gone.”

13

Tristan

The wind slammed against the side of the helicopter, but Tristan wasn’t worried.

He’d flown in much worse.

Today, visibility was good, the skies clear, the mountains draped in new snow that swallowed sound and shimmered under the morning sun. Tristan loved this time of year, when the days were already getting colder, but winter wasn’t here yet. He adjusted his grip on the cyclic, fingers moving instinctively, his mind half on the route ahead, half on the weight of the gear in the back.

The mission was clear—just a simple supply drop at the Refuge des Conscrits, one of the many mountain huts in the valley owned by the Club Alpin Français.In and out.

During the spring and summer months, the refuge housed a restaurant and up to ninety beds for hikers looking to enjoy the natural reserve of Les Contamines. And, though in winterthe refuge was closed, the Club Alpin Français always made sure there were supplies—fuel, food and blankets—for anyone who needed to take shelter there. Tristan, Lorenz, and Alex had been tasked with doing that last supply run before locking the refuge down for winter.

And … there it was. The natural reserve. Tristan opened his mouth to tell Lorenz and Alex that they’d be landing soon?—

Then the impact hit.

A deafening CRACK against the rotor. Metal screeched, and the aircraft lurched sideways.

Tristan’s instincts kicked in. Controls. Stabilize. Find the ground.

“What the hell was that?” Lorenz shouted over the sudden alarm blaring in his headset.

Bird strike? A meteorite? No fucking clue.

The tail rotor was losing control, torque twisting the helicopter violently left.

“Hang on!” Tristan wrestled the helicopter, fighting against the sickening tilt as the mountain loomed closer.

Fuck.

The world blurred. Sky. Snow. Rock. Too fast, too much, too close.

Tristan cut the throttle in an attempt to cushion their descent. The last thing they needed was to spin out of control into a ravine.

The ground rushed up to meet them.

An image entered his mind. Lena, sitting across from him in the bar. The pale column of her throat as she threw her head back and laughed at something he’d said.

He shook his head.No. He had to find a safe spot. A safe?—

Too late. There was a bone-jarring crash, and then everything went dark.

He was dreaming, and in his dream there was a sharp, metallic hiss.

Tristan blinked, and the dream disappeared, but the world remained hazy. His pulse thundered in his ears. A haze of burnished copper filled his vision. The same color as Lena’s hair. The thought filled him with fear. Something bad had happened, and he wanted Lena as far away from here as possible.

He blinked again at the solid object. There was a huge tree branch in the cockpit with him. The sharp hiss was the wind was howling through the fractured window.

Fuck. He was lucky it hadn’t impaled him.

Snow swirled all around the cabin, making him realize just how cold it was.

Alex. Lorenz.

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