Chapter 11: The Cold Long Night**
Silence reclaimed the mountain. Jax lay on his back in the stained snow, looking up through the pine canopy at the emerging stars. The pain in his side was a dull, thumping fire, but his limbs were growing dangerously cold and numb.
He tried to stand, but his boots slipped on the icy rock, and he fell to his knees, coughing up dark blood.
A small pair of hands grabbed his sleeve.
Toby was there, pulling with all his meager strength, his face pale with panic. "Get up! Jax, please get up!"
"I told you... to stay inside, kid," Jax whispered, his strength fading fast.
"You promised to get the blueberries," Toby cried, refusing to let go of the bloody leather vest. "You promised!"
Jax looked into those big hazel eyes—Sarah’s eyes. He had broken every promise he had ever made to Sarah. He had broken promises to his brothers, to Clara, and to himself. But as he looked at the terrified little boy pulling him out of the snow, Jax knew he would rather die ten thousand deaths than break a promise to his son.
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Gritting his teeth until they threatened to crack, Jax pushed himself up with one arm. Leaning heavily on the eight-year-old boy, leaving a crimson trail behind them in the snow, they slowly stumbled back inside the dark, sheltering walls of the cabin.
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