Page 20 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Pilot
When I returned to the cave, Felicity was awake, adding twigs to revive our dying fire.She looked up at my entrance, and her expression softened, with relief, perhaps, or simple acknowledgment that I’d returned as promised.
“Morning,” she said.“I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me for civilization.”
“And miss your charming morning personality?Never.”The teasing response came naturally, surprising me with its ease.
She snorted, but I caught the hint of a smile as she turned back to her task.“I see you’ve been busy.Scouting again?”
I nodded, setting down the firewood.“The snow’s hardened enough to walk on without sinking too deeply.If you’re feeling up to it, we should start on those signal markers today.”
“I’m up for it,” she said firmly, though I noted how carefully she moved as she stood.The concussion was improving, but she wasn’t fully healed.“We need to be proactive about rescue rather than just waiting around hoping someone finds us.”
“Agreed.”I handed her a portion of our rations, beef jerky and rehydrated bean soup, deliberately larger than my own, though I positioned things to make it less obvious.“Eat first.You need the energy.”
She eyed the food suspiciously.“You’re not eating enough.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted.My metabolism was different from hers, another aspect of my dual nature.I could go longer without food and survive on far less than an ordinary human, drawing on reserves that came with my shifter biology.But I couldn’t explain that to her without revealing too much.
“I hunt better on an empty stomach,” I said instead.“Sharper instincts.”
She looked unconvinced but accepted the food, watching me with those too-perceptive eyes as we ate in companionable silence.There was something intimate and primal about sharing food together, especially in a survival situation.
“Ready?”I asked when we finished eating.Her color looked better today, and the dark circles under her eyes were less pronounced.
She nodded.“Let’s make ourselves visible.”
We emerged into the brilliant morning light, the snow-covered landscape stretching before us like an artist’s blank canvas.The pristine whiteness made my eyes ache.I noticed Felicity squinting against the glare and silently cursed our lack of eye protection.Our sunglasses had disappeared under the piles of debris in the crash.
“We should clear an area here,” I suggested, indicating a flat expanse near our shelter.“Large enough to be visible from search planes.”
For the next several hours, we worked side by side, clearing snow to create SOS markings and gathering materials for a signal fire.I monitored Felicity carefully, watching for signs of fatigue or pain that she would undoubtedly try to hide.Her determination was admirable, but stubborn to the point of recklessness.
“You’re hovering,” she said without looking up from her task of arranging branches.“I’m not going to collapse.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.I can feel you watching me like I’m made of glass.”She straightened, wiping sweat from her brow despite the cold.“I’m tougher than I look, Roberts.”
“I’m well aware,” I said, something like respect coloring my tone.“But even the toughest humans have limits.”
She caught my phrasing, her head tilting slightly.“Humans?As opposed to what?”
I stiffened, realizing my slip.“Figure of speech.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she let it pass, returning to her work.These moments of carelessness were becoming more frequent around her, lapses that threatened to expose what I was.I needed to maintain better control.
As the day progressed, dark clouds gathered on the horizon, promising more snow by nightfall.We worked with increasing urgency, knowing our window for completing the signals might be limited.When fat snowflakes began drifting down, I called a halt to our efforts.
“We’ve done enough,” I said, looking at our handiwork.The SOS markers were clearly visible against the white backdrop, and our signal fire was ready to be lit at the first sign of aircraft.“We should get back to shelter before the storm worsens.”
Felicity nodded, her breath fogging in the increasingly cold air.I noticed her shivering had intensified, her movements becoming slightly less coordinated.Without asking permission, I moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to share my heat as we made our way back to the cave.
“Your body temperature defies medical science,” she muttered, but she leaned into me gratefully.
“Lucky for you,” I replied while I guided her carefully across the uneven ground.
By the time we reached our shelter, the snow was falling steadily.Felicity’s teeth were chattering despite my shared warmth.I busied myself as I rebuilt the fire to a roaring blaze.My concern grew as I watched her struggle to warm up.
“You pushed too hard,” I said, moving to her side once the fire was established.“Your body’s still recovering.”
