Page 9 of My Savior Valentine

"I can't get you out of here alone," I admit, my jaw tightening with frustration. "The conditions are too dangerous. I need to radio for backup."

Willow's eyes widen slightly, and the anxiety flickering across her features is clear as day. "How long will that take?" she asks.

I shake my head, wishing I had a better answer. "I'm not sure. The storm is set to last until the morning, and it’s doing a job on the signal." I pause, meeting her gaze steadily. "But I promise, I'm not leaving you here. We'll get you out of this, one way or another."

Reaching for the radio on my belt, I bring it to my lips and press the button. "Viggo, come in. Viggo, do you copy?" I wait a moment, listening for a response, but only static crackles back. I try again, my heart beating out of my chest with worry. "Damn it, the signal's dead."

I lower the radio, my mind racing. I can't extract Willow on my own, not in this weather, and with her leg in such bad shape. But I can't leave her here, either. The thought of her being stranded, alone, and injured… nope, it's not happening.

Turning to Willow, I offer her a reassuring nod. "Looks like we're in this together, for now. Don't worry, we'll figure something out."

Crouching beside the small snow shelter, I assess the situation with a critical eye. The shelter isn't enough to protect us from the worsening storm. There's no way I can fit inside it for one and for two, it wasn't exactly doing a great job of keeping Willow safe, either.

"Alright, Willow," I say, turning to her with a decisive nod. "We need to expand this thing. It's not going to cut it much longer."

She watches me warily, her face clearly showing her pain, but there's a glimmer of trust in her gaze. "What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing," I reply firmly. "Just stay put and keep warm. I've got this."

Without further ado, I set to work, my movements efficient and practiced. Using my gloved hands, I start carving away at the snow, slowly but surely enlarging the shelter. The dense, packed snow yields to my skilled touch, and I build up the walls, ensuring they're sturdy and secure.

Willow observes me with a mix of fascination and disbelief, her eyes tracking my every action. "You're good at this," she murmurs, her voice soft but tinged with awe.

I glance over at her, offering a faint, lopsided smile. "Comes with the territory," I reply, my tone gruff but not unkind. "Spent a lot of time in places like this."

I can feel Willow’s gaze on me as I work, her emerald eyes seeming to bore into my soul. It's an unfamiliar sensation, one that has me feeling strangely self-conscious. I push the feeling aside, focusing instead on packing the snow together to keep the cold out as much as possible.

Once the shelter is large enough to accommodate us both, I pause to catch my breath, my gloved hands flexing. Reaching into my pack, I pull out a protein bar and a water bottle and offer them to Willow.

"You need to keep your strength up," I say, my voice low and gentle. "Eat this, and drink as much as you can."

Willow hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine before she slowly takes the items from my outstretched hand. Our fingers brush, and I can't help but notice how red and icy her skin is. I’m going to have a frostbite situation on my hands if I don’t get us out of here fast.

As Willow struggles to unwrap the bar and tries to sit up, I watch her closely, a flicker of concern crossing my features. Without thinking, I reach out, steadying her hand to help guide the food to her mouth.

Willow's eyes widen slightly at the gesture, but she doesn't pull away. There's a moment of silent understanding between us, a shared acknowledgment of the gravity of our situation.

I clear my throat, breaking the charged silence. "Eat up. We've got a long night ahead of us."

Willow nods, her gaze never leaving mine as she takes a bite of the protein bar. I can see the relief in her expression as the nourishment helps to ease her discomfort, if only slightly.

Satisfied that she's taken care of, at least for the moment, I turn my attention back to the shelter, packing the snow as tightly as I can to keep the biting wind at bay. The howling gale grows stronger by the minute, and I know we need to conserve as much body heat as possible if we're going to make it through the night.

Glancing over at Willow, I see the pain etched into her features despite her best efforts to hide it. She's trying to put on a brave face, but I can tell she's suffering. My jaw tightens with a familiar feeling - the need to protect, to make things right. It's a compulsion that's served me well in the past, but it's also a burden I've grown weary of carrying.

"How's the leg feeling?" I ask, my voice gruff but not unkind.

Willow swallows hard, her gaze meeting mine. "It hurts," she admits, her voice quiet. "But I'll be okay. I've been through worse."

I nod, not doubting the truth of her words. Olympians are a tough breed, and Willow is no exception. Still, the thought of her suffering needlessly grates on me.

"Here," I say, taking off my gloves, reaching into my pack, and pulling out a small bottle. "This will help with the pain. It’s only Tylenol, but it’s something."

Willow accepts the medication with a grateful nod, her fingers brushing against mine as she takes the bottle. I try to ignore the way the brief contact sends a spark of awareness through me.

"Thanks," she murmurs, her eyes locking with mine for a moment before she turns her attention to the task of swallowing the pills.

I watch her carefully, noting the way her brow furrows in discomfort as she shifts position. Without thinking, I reach out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

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