Page 47 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
Five minutes later, both Luke and the wolf have vanished into the gloom.
Panic gnaws at me, but then—sound.
A bark. Not just once, but a wild, continuous stream of it. High, sharp, frantic.
Southpaw.
Thank God. He’s found her.
I push harder, lungs tearing, legs trembling, sweat dripping into my eyes. Another two minutes of clawing my way upward, and then—Luke’s voice, rough and urgent, calling out through the trees.
I stumble the last few yards, chest heaving, and crest a rise.
There.
Luke and Southpaw, both standing over a motionless shape crumpled on the ground.
My heart slams into my ribs. For a second, the world tilts, the air gone from my lungs.
Oh my God. No.
Is she?—?
I stumble closer, bent double, gasping like I’ve run twenty miles. My stomach lurches. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t even string words together. It feels like my insides are trying to crawl out of me.
Finally, in broken bursts between gulps of air, I manage:
"Is… she… alive?"
Luke crouches, fingers pressed against her throat. Then he looks up, steady.
"Yeah. She’s alive, Boss. Just unconscious."
The ground tilts again, but this time with sheer relief. My knees nearly give.
Thank God.
My stubborn, infuriating, impossible, beautiful Luna is alive.
I didn’t even let myself think the other possibility—not really. But seeing her laid out like that, pale and limp against the dirt—it hit me like a hammer to the chest.
The pressure of it all, the fear I’ve been swallowing down all day, breaks loose. Right there, in front of Luke and the wolf, I crack.
And for the first time in years—longer than I can even remember—I burst into tears.
I kneel down beside her small form, and the dam inside me breaks. Huge, wracking sobs burst out of me, unbidden and uncontrollable.
Oh my God. This won’t do. I can’t lose control like this. Not in front of Luke. Not now.
It’s the relief that’s done it. All this time, I’ve kept the worst fears bottled up, refusing to give them voice. But they’ve been there, gnawing at the back of my mind.
What if she wasn’t just injured?
What if she's dead?
But she’s not. She’s alive. Unconscious, but alive.
"Jack." Luke’s voice cuts through my spiral, calm and steady. "We need to get her out of here."
