Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 124

**Blake**

I wake before my alarm, with Charlotte tucked against me, one hand curled in the front of my hoodie, her face turned into my chest. Her hair is everywhere, across my arm, over the pillow, caught under my chin, and the jersey I gave her is still tightly in her hand. Lex lifts his head inside me, quiet and pleased. Pretty mate. Yeah. I know. Snow taps lightly against the window. The room is grey in the early morning, soft around the edges, and for once, there is no panic in her scent. No fear, and no old hurt riding under the strawberries and cream. She smells sleepy and safe. I tighten my arm around her, and she moves closer with a little sound, cheek brushing my shirt. I could stay here.

I could let the whole world handle itself for one morning. Then downstairs, something clatters, and I know Mum is already bustling around in preparations for today. Charlotte stirs, lashes fluttering before she opens her eyes. She blinks at my chest first, then slowly lifts her gaze to mine. “Morning,” she mumbles.

I smile. “Good morning.”

She looks soft like this. Warm and half-asleep, hair messy, my hoodie swallowing her hands. Then her eyes flick sideways to the jersey on the bed, and a small smile touches her mouth.

“You still like it?” I ask.

She reaches for it and pulls it closer. “I love it.”

“Put it on.” I nudge her and grin. I can’t help it, I’m dying to see her in it.

Her cheeks go pink. “Now?”

“Now.”

She laughs quietly and climbs out of bed, taking the jersey with her. I sit up against the headboard and watch her disappear into the bathroom. The door stays open a crack, and I hear fabric shifting, then the sink turning on. When she comes back out, my lungs forget what they’re for. The jersey hangs a little big on her, the sleeves falling past her wrists, my number sitting across her front. I twirl my finger, and she bites her lip as she spins for me. My name is on her back. Right where everyone will see it.

She looks over her shoulder at me, suddenly shy. “Is it okay?”

I’m out of bed before I think about it. I cross the room and take her face in my hands, kissing her and revelling in the way she melts against me.

“It’s perfect.”

Her fingers curl in my shirt as she laughs. “You’re biased.”

“Very.” I grin down at her.

She smiles, and I kiss her again because I can.

We make our way downstairs and find Mum in the kitchen with her hair clipped up, a pen behind one ear and three lists spread across the counter. Dad is at the table with a mug of coffee, phone in hand, speaking low through the pack link. Charlie is sitting with a plate of toast, wearing one of my spare hoodies. Theo is there too, for some reason, eating cereal straight from the box. Mum sees Charlotte first, and her face brightens. “Oh, look at you.”

Charlotte tugs at the hem of the jersey. “Too much?”

“No,” Mum says. “Perfect.”

Charlie looks up, and his eyes go straight to my name on her; still, his mouth twists into a smile. “Absolutely tragic,” he says.

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”

“It was,” Charlie says. “Then I saw that.” He teases her. Theo snorts cereal into the box, and Mum points her pen at all of us. “Eat. Then shoes, jackets, and no one gets in my way unless they’re carrying raffle baskets.” Dad ends his link and looks up; his gaze moves over Charlotte’s jersey. His mouth softens for half a second. Then his eyes flick to me. A silent message. Keep her close. I give him one nod.

Charlotte misses it because Mum is already setting a loaded plate in front of her. 

“Mara,” she says softly.

“You have a big day,” Mum replies. “Eat.”

Charlie reaches for a strawberry off her plate, and I slap his hand away. He stares at me. “Did you just guard fruit?”

“It’s hers.”

Charlotte laughs and pushes the strawberry toward him. “You can have it.”

“Nope,” Charlie says, suddenly stubborn. “I’m not fighting an alpha for a berry.”

Mum begins assigning jobs for the day. Dad tells me he already checked the venue. Theo swears he can carry six boxes at once. Mum tells him she likes the floors without dents in them. Charlie asks if all fundraisers are this intense, and Dad tells him only the ones run by Mara. Under all of it, I feel the day waiting. It sits low beneath the warmth, a thin wire pulled tight in my chest… I look toward the front windows. The snow outside is bright in the morning light. The road is quiet. The trees beyond the yard stand dark and still. Lex shifts, and I set my fork down.

Charlotte turns slightly in my arm. “You okay?”

I look back at her, running my hand over my name on her back.

“Yeah,” I say. “Just thinking.”

“About the game?”

I smile because it is easier than telling her the truth. “About you in the stands cheering me on.”

She blushes, and Charlie groans into his toast. “I’m begging both of you to remember there are witnesses.” Mum laughs, and the sound fills the kitchen. For a while, the unease loosens.

We clean up fast. Charlie carries boxes out to Dad’s truck. Theo follows with two raffle baskets and a bag of decorations balanced under his chin. I stay close to Charlotte, and I know she notices. Every time I move with her, her fingers brush mine, and every time she steps away, she glances back like she’s checking whether I’m still there. I am. I will be.

When we’re all ready to leave, the cars look half-packed for war and half-packed for a community event. Coats are pulled on, boots thud by the door, Mum counts tickets, and Dad checks his phone again, face calm, shoulders tense. Charlotte stands in the hallway in my jersey and one of Mum’s coats, hair brushed loose over her shoulders. I step in front of her and zip the coat up carefully. She watches my hands. “I can do that.”

“Let me?”

Her mouth curves, and I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead.

Then Dad opens the front door, and cold air spills inside.

“Let’s move,” he says. “We’ve got a game to win and a diner to build.”

Charlie bounces once on his heels, excitement radiating off him. “Let’s go win.”

Theo claps him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Charlotte slips her hand into mine, and I look down at our joined hands, then out past the porch, toward the white road and the dark line of trees beyond it. I tighten my grip gently around hers and lead her outside. Today is supposed to be perfect. So I am going to make it perfect for as long as I can.