Page 11 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Pilot
When I returned, Felicity had become agitated, reaching weakly toward the floor with alarming intensity.
“My pendant,” she gasped, struggling to move.“Please.Can’t leave without it.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered.The fuel smell was overwhelming now, burning my sensitive nostrils.Death was literally pooling beneath us, and she was worried about jewelry.
But something in her desperation gave me pause.I spotted the silver trinket glinting on the ceiling-turned-floor of the cockpit.I snatched it up, noticing that it was a silver airplane.
“Got it,” I said, shoving it into my pocket.“Now we’re leaving.”
“I can walk,” she protested weakly as I lifted her into my arms.
“Sure you can,” I replied, already moving toward the emergency exit.“And I’m actually Santa Claus.”
Her weight was nothing to my supernatural strength, but maneuvering through the wreckage without further injuring her proved challenging.I kicked open the emergency exit door, wincing as Arctic air and snow blasted into the cabin.The temperature drop was immediate and severe, at least twenty below zero, and possibly worse with wind chill.
I shielded Felicity as best as I could, tucking her against my chest and wrapping my jacket around us.As we exited the wreckage, I ducked my head against the biting cold.My boots sank deep into the snow, making each step an effort.The fading daylight revealed our desperate situation.There was nothing but wilderness in every direction, surrounded by a thick cover of towering pine trees as mountains loomed over us.
My body curled around hers instinctively, my broader shoulders and back creating a protective barrier between her and the elements.The ancient instinct to place myself between danger and what my wolf had already claimed as mine flooded my system with adrenaline, heightening my senses further.I could hear her every shallow breath, smell the fear and blood beneath her skin, and feel each tremor that ran through her smaller frame.
We’d barely made it ten yards off the lake ice to solid ground when my hearing picked up the subtle change behind us.It was the soft hiss of fuel finding an ignition source.Without hesitation, I dove forward, taking Felicity down with me into the deep snow, covering her body with mine.
The explosion rocked the valley with apocalyptic force.A massive fireball erupted into the gray sky, turning dusk into day for one terrible moment.The shockwave slammed into my back.I could feel the searing heat even through my heavy coat.I pressed Felicity deeper into the snow, letting my body absorb the worst of the blast.
Debris rained down around us, metal shrapnel, melted plastic, unidentifiable pieces of what had once been our aircraft.The bitter smell of burning fuel and melting components filled the air, choking me with each breath.My wolf instincts surged, every protective instinct heightened to maximum intensity as I maintained my shield over her smaller form.
Pain bloomed across my back as debris struck me, but I didn’t flinch or move.My wolf welcomed the pain.It reveled in it, knowing each impact that struck me spared her.The burning sensation across my shoulders would heal within hours thanks to my shifter nature, but Felicity had no such advantages.Her fragility compared to my durability only intensified my need to shield her.
When the immediate danger passed, I rolled off her but stayed close, watching her face as the reality of our situation settled in.Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered, “Bryce.”
The simple utterance contained volumes of grief, not just for the young co-pilot, but for the loss of the future he’d never have.
I helped her sit up against a fallen log away from the inferno that had been our transportation.The flames illuminated her face, highlighting the blood still seeping from her head wound.I opened the first aid kit, finding antiseptic wipes and gauze.
“Hold still,” I instructed, gently cleaning the cut.“It’s not as deep as all the blood suggested, but that concussion concerns me.”
She winced as the antiseptic stung, but remained stoically silent.“Pupils equal?”she asked, her medical knowledge surprising me.
“Equal but sluggish,” I confirmed, pressing gauze against the wound.“Any dizziness?Nausea?”
“Both,” she admitted, closing her eyes briefly.“But I’ll manage.”
I secured the gauze with medical tape, my fingers lingering perhaps a second too long against her skin.The contact sent an unexpected jolt through me, my wolf stirring again beneath the surface.I pulled back and busied myself with the supplies.
My wolf snarled its displeasure at the broken contact.The primal part of me wanted constant touch, constant reassurance that she was alive and under my protection.I’d never experienced my alpha instincts this strongly before, the overwhelming urge to circle her, to mark her with my scent, to establish myself as her protector against all threats.I fought to maintain my human demeanor, but my nostrils flared repeatedly, cataloging every nuance of her scent, committing it to memory so I could track her anywhere.
Night was going to blanket us soon, transforming our crash site into a landscape of shadows and fire.The burning wreckage cast wild, dancing light across the snow, but the heat barely reached us.The temperature continued its relentless plunge, the kind of cold that didn’t just chill, but killed.
“No cell service,” I said, checking my phone.The screen glowed with the mocking “No Signal” message.“Mountains are blocking any line of sight.Even if they picked up our emergency beacon, this weather will ground search and rescue efforts.”
Felicity hugged herself, shivering violently despite her efforts to hide it.I pulled out the emergency blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders.Our breath fogged in the air between us.
“We have maybe three hours before hypothermia becomes a serious concern,” she said, her pilot’s training evident in her analytical tone.“The fire will draw attention, but…”
“But we can’t stay here,” I finished, surveying our surroundings.“That storm’s intensifying.We’ll freeze to death waiting for rescue that might not come until morning, if then.”
She nodded, grimacing as the movement clearly aggravated her head injury.“The survival pack should have basic gear.Compass, at minimum.”
I opened the bright orange pack and inventoried our meager lifeline.There was a flashlight, compass, a small folding shovel, a paper map, emergency rations, water purification tablets, a steel camping meal kit, matches, and a lightweight thermal tarp.
