Page 57 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
Mission accomplished, I turn back toward the exit, and the second I leave the circle I notice the wind has really picked up. The mist has thickened into a dense pillow of cloud, and I can barely see two feet in front of myself.
Better hurry and catch up, or I’m going to get lost…
CAUGHT IN THE STORM
I’m stupidly lost—like, completely turned around, no idea where I am, absolutely screwed lost. And to top it all off it’s started snowing.
Managing to descend the scramble, I find myself staring at the mountainside wondering which way we came from. All I can see is a bank of cloud; the descent is masked entirely, and with the snow falling faster and heavier by the minute, any path that exists is about to disappear. With only the vaguest sense of the direction we came from, I start making my way down.
“Katie!” I call, almost slipping on the suddenly unsteady ground. “Mason! Guys, wait up!”
I hug my chest, trying to fortify myself against the wind—which is whipping so hard I’m scared of losing my favorite beanie—and feel the squishy package stored inside my coat.
Jerk Jasper, if I’d just left his present I would have stayed with the group.
Jerk me for going back.
It’s not like he was expecting a gift, and it’s definitely not like he’ll have one waiting for me back in the warmth of the chalet. Yet here I am putting myself in danger for him again.What am I doing?
The snowfall has graduated from flurry to full-on blizzard as I clamber over some awkwardly placed boulders and continue my descent. Shimmying across a particularly frozen patch of ice, I nearly slip, but catch myself on a jagged rocky edge nearby, pulling a muscle as I hang on for dear life.
Eventually, the land evens out a little, and instead of stone beneath my feet, I trudge through fresh powder about two feet deep. I wander between snow-laden trees that bend in the wind. The forest rises around me until I’m encased by boughs straining under the icy weight on top of them. Even surrounded by firs, the wind batters me. My legs are getting tired. My face is raw from the cold, and my lips are chapped.Damn, I could really use that ChapStick right about now.
I glance back the way I came to find my tracks are already gone. The snow is like a curtain of white, and even at this altitude the mist is thick. When I go to move off again I’m not sure which way I was heading. The trees all look the same––everything is white, and frozen, and blustery. They say each snowflake is uniquely formed, no two are identical, but right now they’re all pretty freaking similar.
Panic sets it, my jaw is chattering, my whole body shivering. I don’t remember ever being this cold. And I have no idea which way to go. The wind is a roaring ocean in my ears, and my runny nose is a rushing river. I spin in circles, hoping for a glimpse of light, some sign of civilization, but it’s all cloud and snow and storm. My head swims and I suddenly feel faint. I trudge to the nearest tree and collapse into the snow.
How long will this blizzard last? And how long can I survive out here?
Knees pulled in close, I try and make myself as small as possible to keep my chest warm. I can’t help it when the tears start to come. All I want is to be home in Stony Point, sitting at the dinner table with my parents, eating turkey, or curled up on the couch with a blanket watchingLord of the Ringsor a live-action Disney remake, stuffing myself with chocolate. I don’t want to be here. I wish I hadn’t come. I wish I hadn’t chased Jasper up here… I wish I hadn’t chased Jasper…
“Max?” his voice cuts through the roaring wind.
I look up, wiping my snotty nose and straining to see through the snow curtain. Was that really him? Or am I experiencing some sort of frostbite-related hallucination? Is my body diverting too much oxygen from my brain trying to keep the rest of me warm? Am I dead? Have I frozen to death out here and his call is Death’s, luring me to the afterlife?
“Max!”
Nope, that was definitely real. I wipe my eyes and shake my head, trying to reawaken my senses. Blood pumps in my system and I already feel a little warmer.
“Jasper?” I can’t see him, but I know I’m not hallucinating. Pushing on the tree for support, I lift myself back to standing. “Jasper?!”
“Max!”
Finally, he comes into view, arms wrapped around his sleek black puffer, bracing against the wind. Even he is struggling to make his way through the storm. His jaw is set, his eyes glazed over with determination and then…relief.
He sees me.
“Max!” Jasper trudges toward me. “What is wrong with you?”
“I wasn’t expecting a blizzard!”
“Are you hurt?”
“What?” I can barely hear him over the rush of the storm, plus I totally wasn’t expecting him to be that concerned.
“Are you injured?”
“I’m fine.”
