---- Chapter 8 Dante POV: A young volunteer burst into the lodge, shouting about a geological collapse on the north ridge. The quiet hum of the lodge erupted into controlled chaos. Staff and local rescue volunteers moved with a grim efficiency that spoke of long winters and the mountain's unforgiving nature. My mind, usually a cold, calculating machine, went blank. All the strategy, all the power, all the control-it evaporated. Replaced by a single, primal fear that was so absolute it threatened to swallow me whole. Elara. My child. "I'm going up there," | heard myself say, the words raw. The coordinator, a sturdy woman named Greta, shook her head. "Don't be a fool. You'll be a liability. Let the professionals handle it." | didn't listen. | saw a pile of emergency gear by the door-a heavy jacket, a headlamp, a shovel. | grabbed them, my movements clumsy with adrenaline. | was no longer Dante Sovrano, the Don. | was just a man, terrified of losing everything. ---- an shch "Take the old Land Rover," Greta shouted after me, her voice filled with reluctant concern. "The keys are in it. God help you." The drive up the service road was a nightmare. The Land Rover rattled and shook, its wheels spinning in the thick mud. The wind and snow were a solid wall of white. My fear was a living thing beside me in the truck, its cold breath on my neck, whispering a litany of my failures. The road ended abruptly, blocked by a mountain of snow and fallen trees. The avalanche. | didn't hesitate. | got out of the truck and started to climb, clawing my way through the debris. The cold was brutal, biting at my exposed skin, but my fear burned hotter. When | finally reached the site of the avalanche, the scene was one of utter devastation. A wide swath of the mountainside had simply given way. Rescue workers were already there, their headlamps cutting beams through the swirling snow, their shouts swallowed by the wind. | grabbed the shovel I'd taken and just started digging. | dug with a frantic, desperate energy, my breath coming in ragged gasps. | shouted her name until my throat was raw. "Elara! Elara!" Other rescuers worked alongside me. They didn't ask who | was. In the face of the mountain's fury, we were all the same. My expensive suit was torn and covered in mud. My hands, ---- usually accustomed to holding a pen or a gun, were scraped raw and bleeding. For hours, | was just another pair of hands, another desperate soul fighting against the snow. The hours blurred into a single, agonizing stretch of cold, fear, and brutal physical labor. My muscles screamed, but | didn't stop. | couldn't. My only fuel was the image of her face from the photograph-laughing, alive, free. | had to get her back. | had to have the chance to tell her | was sorry. Then, a shout went up from the other side of the debris field. A powerful spotlight cut through the darkness, illuminating a small, stable ledge of rock above the main slide. And she was there. She was alive. Her face was smudged with dirt, her hair a mess, but she was standing. She was helping another rescuer pull a young woman up onto the ledge. Even in the midst of chaos, covered in mud, she was a beacon of strength. A wave of relief so powerful it buckled my knees washed over me. | leaned on my shovel, gasping for air, the tears | hadn't shed in twenty years freezing on my cheeks. "Elara," | cried out, my voice breaking. Her head snapped up. Her eyes, illuminated by the harsh rescue lights, found mine across the chasm of snow and rock. ---- | waited for something. Shock. Anger. Even relief. | saw nothing. Her eyes were as cold and empty as the winter sky. There was no recognition, no emotion at all. It was the look you would give a stranger, a piece of the landscape. Then, she turned away. She dismissed me, my presence as insignificant as a falling stone, and went back to her task of helping the injured girl. The rejection was more brutal than any physical blow. It was a complete and utter erasure. In her new world, | didn't even exist. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. However, upon her triumphant return, her brother betrays her, setting off a chain of events that will test her resolve and reveal hidden truths. This captivating novel delves into themes of secrets, reincarnation, revenge, murder, and drama. Adela's journey from deception to betrayal is filled with intrigue and suspense as she navigates through a world where power dynamics and family loyalties collide. What sets this story apart is its strong female lead who defies expectations and challenges societal norms in a quest for justice and redemption. Experience the riveting tale of Adela Taylor online at CrushReel and witness the transformation of a princess into a formidable female general.