The snow was stained red.

Lottie didn’t even hear the others calling her name as she dropped to her knees beside you, her breath catching sharp in her throat. You were sprawled on your side in the snow, your jacket soaked through, your face pale—too pale—and your hands pressed tightly to the gash along your side, blood seeping through your fingers.

“No no no,” Lottie whispered, her voice breaking, eyes wide as she reached out. “I’m here—I’ve got you, I’ve got you…”

You were trying to stay conscious, but it was hard. Your face twisted in pain, and your teeth chattered violently. “It hurts—fuck, Lottie—”

“Shh, baby,” she said, tearing off her own coat and pressing it over the wound, both of her hands trembling as she leaned over you. “I know. I know it does, but stay with me. Please stay with me.”

She didn’t care that her knees were soaked, that blood was smeared up her wrists, that the snow was falling faster now—like even the sky was panicking.

“Someone get Shauna! Now!” she barked at Mari, not even turning to look.

But her eyes—gods, her eyes were only on you.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Lottie said, cupping your face. “Please. You’re gonna be okay. I promise. You’re not leaving me like this. Not like this.”

You coughed, the pain stealing your breath. “Lottie… I don’t… I don’t want to die—”

“You won’t,” she said, fierce now, her fingers curled into your collar. “You won’t. The wilderness doesn’t get to have you. I won’t let it.”

She leaned down and kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, then your mouth—your blood on her lips like a ritual offering. Her voice was low and trembling, like prayer.

“You’re mine. You hear me? You stay mine.”

By the time Shauna got there, Lottie had already bundled you up in her coat and was rocking you gently, whispering to you in French under her breath like a litany, her fingers never leaving your face.

When they finally moved you into the hut, Lottie wouldn’t leave your side.

That night, when your fever hit and you were delirious, sweating, and shaking—Lottie held a wet cloth to your brow and whispered, “Je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime” over and over like it would anchor your soul to your body.