Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 152

**Charlotte**

The growls move through the walls as I walk; they claw under my skin with every step. Shanti guides me forward, following the pressure and pull in my chest. It tightens when I turn one way and eases when I turn the other. I follow it through the underground corridor, past rows of observation windows with number plates and clipboards. The pull gets stronger near the end of the hall, and Shanti’s attention narrows to one door on the left. *Here.* My feet stop, and I stare at the door. A growl sounds from behind it, but it doesn’t deter me. Whoever is behind this door they need me badly. “This one,” I say.

Blake’s eyes move to the number on the door, then to the clipboard beside it. He reads quickly, his expression hardening with every line.

“What does it say?” I ask.

“Female,” he says. “Intercepted east ridge. Severely malnourished. High aggression. No confirmed name.” Blake puts down the clipboard and looks over at Gareth. Gareth nods, and Blake turns to me. “Stand back with Dad.”

“Blake.”

“Please.”

That one word gets me more than the order would have. So I step back beside Gareth, and he places a hand lightly on my shoulder.

The growling behind the door grows louder as Blake slides the key into the lock. He opens the door, and the rogue launches at him immediately. She’s a matted brown wolf that comes out of the corner with a snarl. Foam gathers at the edge of her mouth, and her claws scrape over concrete as she strains toward Blake. “Stop.” He says, in a deep, commanding tone, and the rogue freezes mid-lunge, muscles shaking, jaws open around a snarl she can’t finish. Blake grabs the padded restraint collar fixed to the floor and secures it around her neck, then checks the give on the chain before stepping back out of reach.

She throws herself sideways, claws tearing against the floor, body twisting in panic and rage when the command stops. Blake turns to me, his eyes dark, protective, and furious at the whole world. He holds out his hand, and I step forward and take it. Blake keeps himself between the wolf and me until I touch his arm. His eyes flick to mine. “Why this one?” he asks.

I look at the wolf. She is still snarling, but the sound keeps breaking at the end. Her eyes lock on me, then dart away, then snap back again. Beneath the yellow, I feel something small and frantic beating against the dark. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I just had a feeling.”

Shanti presses close. *Not a feeling,* she murmurs. *A thread.*

I move slowly forward, and Blake moves with me, as I kneel on the concrete outside the wolf’s reach. My hands tremble slightly before I press them to my thighs, and swallow down my own fear. “Hi,” I say softly and the growl stutters. “My name is Charlotte.” Her lips pull back from her teeth. “I don’t know if you can understand me,” I say, “but I think part of you can.”

The wolf thrashes hard, and the collar jerks against the restraint point. Blake takes one step closer to me, but I lift my hand slightly. *Wait.* I don’t know if I send it through the bond or if I say it with my body, but he stops, and I look back at her. “You’re safe right now,” I whisper. “No one is going to hurt you.”

The wolf’s eyes are fixed on me, and I can feel her in there, buried deep. Shanti pushes forward through me, and I feel something building in my chest. I open my mouth on instinct, and a howl pours out of me. I feel it fill the concrete cell, wrapping around the growl and sinking into the trembling body in front of me. The wolf stops thrashing suddenly, and her body locks before it begins to shake.

I watch in shock as the wolf whines and the sound continues to rip straight through me. Then her fur ripples and her bones start to break beneath her skin. The wolf cries out, but the sound turns human halfway through, and my heart slams against my ribs. The matted brown fur pulls back in uneven patches, and her body folds in on itself, limbs changing, spine arching, claws shortening into fingers that scrape uselessly against the concrete. The collar loosens as her neck changes shape, but the restraint still holds her in place. Just like that, the wolf is gone, and a girl lies on the floor, naked and sobbing. She can’t be older than me.

Her hair is tangled and brown, stuck to her face with sweat, bruises mark her arms, dirt streaks her skin, and her ribs show with every breath she drags in. I reach blindly toward the shelf for a blanket, but Blake grabs one first and puts it in my hands. “Charlotte,” Blake warns.

But I ignore him. “She’s scared.”

I crawl forward enough to wrap the blanket around her shoulders. She flinches at the contact and nearly hits her head on the floor, so I stop and open my hands.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Her brown eyes weep as she softens, and Blake removes the collar carefully once she’s still. The second she’s free, the girl throws herself into my arms, and I rock back in shock, but I catch her. Her hands fist in Blake’s hoodie, and she sobs into my chest.

“Thank you,” she cries. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I wrap both arms around her as my own eyes burn.

“It’s okay,” I whisper while my heart breaks for her. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

She shakes so hard the blanket slips, and I pull it tighter around her. Her hair is knotted under my fingers, and I smooth it back from her face the way Mara does to mine. 

I feel Blake tense and ready behind me, but he doesn’t pull her away, and I hear Gareth’s voice from the doorway. “I’ll get clothes.”

I nod without looking up, and the girl cries harder. Unsure of what to do, I rock her gently on the cold floor, shushing her, brushing her hair out of her eyes, holding her while the last of the wolf fades from her shaking body. I don’t know how someone this young became rogue or how long she was lost, but I know how scary this would be to wake up around people you don’t know.

When her sobs begin to slow, I pull back enough to see her face. “Do you remember your name?” I ask her softly. I watch as her mouth trembles for a moment before she whispers, “Emily. My name is Emily.”

I brush another strand of hair from her cheek softly and squeeze my arms around her a little. “Emily,” I repeat, and her face crumples as she hears it.

“How did you lose yourself, Emily?” I ask. “What happened to you?”