Both men breathed hard, staring out at the blinding white chaos ahead. And slowly—inch by inch—they began to pull away from the worst of it. Behind them, the ice closed again. No sign of the bear. Just churned-up water and falling snow.
Elias sank into the bench in the wheelhouse, the cub still warm and faintly breathing against his chest. His arms shook, whether from adrenaline or cold, he wasn’t sure. Henrik exhaled slowly. “Tell Holm Station we’re coming in hot.”