Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 142

**Charlotte**

After I wake again, Charlie leaves to get me clothes. He says it like he’s only going down the hall, but his hand lingers on mine before he goes.

“I’ll be right back, Lotty.”

I nod, because I’m tired and confused and there are too many questions pressing into my brain. Blake sits in the chair beside my bed, one hand still wrapped around mine, his thumb moving slowly over my knuckles. It should feel strange. It does feel strange. But every time I think about pulling away, my body settles instead. A nurse comes in with a tray and sets it over my lap. “Take it slow,” she says. “You’ve been through a lot.”

I watch her leave, then look at Blake. “How long have I been here?”

His face scrunches slightly, like he’s deciding how much to tell me.

“Almost two days,” he says. “You were unconscious for most of it.”

Two days. I stare down at the soup. That feels wrong. There’s too much time missing for just two days.

Blake reaches for the spoon, then pauses. “Can I help?”

I look at him. “I might have lost some of my memories, but I do remember how to feed myself.”

His mouth twitches into a smile that would make my knees weak if I could stand.

“Humour me.”

I lean back against the pillow and watch him lift the spoon, and I open my mouth. The soup is warm, and my throat hurts when I swallow, but it helps.

“There,” he murmurs. “Look at that. Expert patient.”

I give him a weak look. “Are you always this annoying?”

His smile grows, but something sad sits inside it. “You used to think so.”

Then a voice moves through my head. *He is your mate.*

I go still, and the spoon pauses halfway back to the bowl as my eyes widen.

“Charlotte?” Blake asks, tilting his head at me.

I don’t answer him, though, because there’s a voice in my head.

*Do not panic,* the voice says. *I am Shanti.*

I reach out to Blake’s hand. “What the hell?” I whisper.

Blake sits forward. “What is it?”

*There is a wolf inside you,* Shanti says gently. *I am yours. You are mine.*

My heart starts thudding hard. No. No, that can’t be right. But even as I think it, something in me moves. A presence inside… Watching. Waiting.

*You are a wolf,* Shanti says. *Charlie is a wolf. Blake is a wolf, too. His wolf is Lex.*

My eyes snap to Blake, and he puts the spoon down slowly. “Is it Shanti?”

I stare at him. “You know about her?”

His face softens. “Yeah.”

Shanti makes a small sound inside me, and I pull in a breath, but it catches. “I’m a wolf?”

Blake nods carefully. “Yes.”

“And Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

“Yes.”

I look at him harder. He sits there, dark eyes soft, broad shoulders curved toward me, like he’s trying to be as unthreatening as a man his size can be. Shanti continues quietly, filling in the spaces before my panic can grow. *There are packs. Bonds. Mates. You shifted before. You know how, even if you do not remember learning. You are safe here.*

Safe. I am safe. Blake picks the spoon up again. “Can I keep feeding you while Shanti gives you the terrifying wolf brochure?”

A laugh slips out of me. It hurts my throat, but it feels good. “Fine.”

He feeds me another spoonful, and Shanti tells me pieces. The most important part is that Blake is mine, and I am his. Suddenly, the pull towards him makes sense. I look at him while she talks.

Soup drips at the corner of my mouth, and he reaches for a napkin. “Can I?”

I nod, and he wipes it away gently, his fingers brushing my chin. I tilt my head, studying him. “Mate?” I whisper.

His eyes go wide. He looks like I’ve handed him back the whole world. “Do you remember?”

I shake my head slowly. “No.”

Then his face falls, and it hurts my heart. I don’t want him to be sad. “But Shanti does.”

His breath leaves him, rough and uneven. Then he smiles softly. 

“That’s something,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

He sets the spoon down and takes my hand, both of his around mine.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“But you remember me.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t remember you.”

His thumb brushes my knuckles again. “Maybe not up here.” He taps my temple lightly, “but here..” He places a hand over my heart, “You remember.” He leans closer, voice low. “We have all the time in the world to get to know each other again.”

The words settle over me, and for some reason, my eyes sting. I look down before he can see too much. “When can I go home?” Then I stop. Home. Where is that? My fingers curl in the blanket. “Where do I live?”

Blake goes quiet for a second. “With us.”

“Us?”

“My family. Me. Charlie. You live at the pack house.”

I try to find that place in my mind, but I come up empty-handed. I swallow. “What about my parents?”

Blake’s hand stills around mine. “My mum died,” I say slowly. “I know that.” His face tightens. “But my dad…” I search his eyes. “Where is my dad?”

Blake doesn’t answer, and the silence in the room and the feeling in my chest tell me something bad happened. Before I can ask again, the door opens.

Charlie steps in, holding a folded bundle of clothes against his chest. Behind him are two older people I don’t know. The woman has kind eyes and a face that looks like it has been crying, though she smiles the second she sees me awake. The man beside her is tall and broad, with grey in his hair and a stillness in his body that makes the room feel safer.

Charlie crosses to my side. “Hey. I brought clothes.”

I look past him as the woman steps closer, hands folded in front of her. “Hi, sweetheart,” she says softly. “I’m Mara.”

The man’s voice is low and careful. “And I’m Gareth.”

Blake’s thumb moves once over my hand.

“My parents,” he says.

I stare at them. At the room full of people who seem to know me. The woman, Mara, smiles through wet eyes. “We’ll take this slow,” she says. “One piece at a time.”

From what I remember, it was just Charlie and me… Now it seems we have a whole family full of people who love us. The bits of my memory I’m missing, I think, were really important parts.