Dark against the white. Struggling. Arms pinwheeling as the slope gave way beneath them.
Going down.
I reached for them—
The vision shattered.
I was back in my bed, gasping, sheets twisted around my legs. Ivy was still asleep across the room, undisturbed.
My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.
I pressed my palms against my eyes and breathed.
The visions were getting clearer. More detailed. More urgent.
The wolf was running out of time. And so was someone else.
I didn't know who the falling figure was. Didn't know if they were part of the rescue or part of the problem. But I knew one thing with absolute certainty:
I couldn't wait anymore.
Three weeks was too long. Two weeks was too long.
The mountain was calling. The wolf was dying. And somewhere in that white hell, someone was going to fall unless I did something about it.
I got out of bed and started running through my lists again.
Chapter ten
Rae's house smelled like cinnamon.
I stood on the porch for a full minute before knocking, letting the warmth bleeding through the windows remind me what normal felt like. Inside, I could hear Alexandra's voice—the determined babbling of a toddler who had opinions about everything and the lung capacity to share them.
The door swung open before I could knock.
"Lumi!" Rae pulled me into a hug before I could brace for it. She smelled like vanilla and something herbal—one of her teas, probably. "I was hoping you'd come by. Alexandra's been asking for you."
"She's two. I’m not sure she even remembers me."
"Oh yes she does! She points at photos and screams, LULU."
I let myself be pulled inside, and the tension I'd been carrying in my shoulders eased slightly. The house was warm, clutteredin the way that meant people actually lived here—toys scattered across the living room floor, a half-folded basket of laundry on the couch, dishes drying in a rack by the sink.
Normal. Safe. Everything Frosthaven wasn't.
Alexandra came barreling around the corner like a tiny freight train, arms outstretched, already talking at a volume that suggested she'd inherited someone's commanding presence.
"Lulu! Lulu up!"
I caught her before she could crash into my knees and swung her onto my hip. She grabbed a fistful of my hair immediately, examining it with the intense focus of a scientist studying a new specimen.
"Hey, gremlin."
"Not gremlin," she said firmly. "Andra."
"My mistake. Hey, Andra."
She nodded, satisfied that I'd been corrected, and went back to inspecting my hair. Rae watched us with a soft smile.
