The Gamma's Choice

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

The wind howls like a pack of wolves on the hunt, sharp and relentless. I pull the blankets tighter around me, trying to shut out the sounds of the snowstorm ravaging our village.

"Sounds nasty out there," Melody murmurs from her bed on the other side of our small cabin.

"Storm's not giving up," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. We're cocooned in darkness, the only light the occasional flash of lightning that seizes the night sky. Each thunderous clap makes me flinch.

My mind races ahead to the morning, to what we might find once this tempest has drained its fury upon us. I can't shake the feeling that not all is well.

And as if summoned by my thoughts, a pounding at the door startles us both upright.

I open the door to Kyle, his face nearly hidden beneath a rime of frost, his eyes wide with panic. "It's Jones," he gasps out, panting from exertion or fear, maybe both. "His cabin... a tree..."

I pull on my boots but don’t bother with a jacket. Melody is by my side as we rush out of the cabin.

"Tell us what happened," I demand, though my heart's racing with bad omens.

"Tree fell... during the storm. Smashed right through his roof." Kyle's trembling, whether from cold or shock, I can't tell. "He's trapped, Ava. And he looks bad."

"Show us." I'm already moving, Melody at my heels, our pack bond snapping tight with urgency. Outside, the world is a blur of white and wind, the snowflakes like tiny daggers against my skin.

Kyle leads us through the chaos, every step an effort against the deepening snow. When we finally reach Jones' cabin, or what's left of it, despair grips me. The old structure is hunched over, like a wounded animal—a great pine has crushed it beneath its weight.

"Jones!" Ethan's voice is a roar against the storm as he emerges from the guest cabin. We claw through debris, wood and snow, heartbeats echoing each other's with frantic rhythm.

And then we see him—Jones, the elder wolf of our pack, half-buried under splintered beams and a blanket of white. His chest rises and falls in shallow, pained jerks. He's alive, but barely.

"Help me lift this," Ethan grits out, positioning himself by a hefty beam pinning Jones down. I move opposite him, our eyes meeting over the broken form of our packmate. There's no room for words, just action, our combined strength fueled by desperation.

"Careful with him," I breathe out as we manage to hoist the timber enough for Kyle to drag Jones free.

"Got him," Kyle confirms, hauling the older wolf clear of further danger.

I kneel beside Jones, my hands hovering over his crumpled body, the weight of responsibility settling cold and heavy in my stomach.

"Stay with us, Jones," I whisper, though I'm not sure he can hear me over the storm. But I can't think about that now. All that matters is the life slipping away before us, and the desperate hope that somehow, we can save him.

My fingers tremble as they hover above Jones' bruised skin, the purple marks a stark contrast against the paleness of the snow around us. I've never done this before—not for real, not when it counts. But there's no time for doubt; Jones needs me.

"Can you do it?" Ethan's voice is a gravelly whisper close to my ear, his breath warm despite the icy air. He doesn't touch me, but I feel him there, solid and reassuring.

I nod, swallowing hard. "I have to."

"Then do it," Kyle says from where he crouches beside me, urgency laced with a faith I'm not sure I deserve. His hand finds mine, a lifeline in the chaos. The last time we were this close was before he left, before everything changed.

"Okay." My voice is a mere thread of sound. I focus on Jones, pushing thoughts of Ethan and Kyle away. My hands lower, finally resting gently on the elder wolf's chest. A soft glow emanates from my palms, the light brightening the shadowed dawn.

"Come on, Ava," I murmur to myself, calling on the healing power that's new and wild within me. It burns through my veins like liquid fire, seeking out the brokenness in Jones' body.

"By the moon," Melody breathes, and I sense more than see her awe.

"Stay with us," Kyle urges, his presence a steady force at my side. I lean into it, into him, drawing strength from our shared past, from the promise of what could be if only we can get through this.

The glow intensifies, heat seeping into Jones' wounds. His labored breathing evens out, the creases of pain on his face smoothing away as my power knits his flesh back together. The snowstorm rages on, but here, in this moment, there is only the warmth, the healing, and the intertwined hope of three hearts beating as one.

"Is it working?" Kyle's voice is tight with concern, his grip on my hand unyielding.

"Yes," I say, almost surprised by the conviction in my tone. The light fades, leaving behind only the natural colors of life returning to Jones' face.

"Unbelievable," Ethan murmurs, and I can feel his gaze on me, filled with a new understanding, a new respect.

Jones stirs, his eyes fluttering open. They find mine, and in them, I see not just gratitude, but a reflection of the awe that has gripped Ethan, Melody, and Kyle. He reaches up, clasping my hand weakly.

"Thank you, Ava," he rasps, and the pack circles closer, their whispers a chorus of wonder.

"Anytime," I reply, my voice steady even as my heart races. I did it. I really did it.

"Let's get him inside," Ethan says, taking charge once again. But now, there's a shift—a recognition that I am not just a Gamma warrior to be protected. I am a healer, a vital part of this pack.

We move together, a unit bonded by loyalty and newfound marvels. As I help carry Jones, Ethan at my back and Kyle at my side, I realize that this storm has changed more than just the landscape; it has altered the very fabric of our lives. And whatever comes next, we will face it together.