Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 37

**Blake**

By the time we’re walking out of the rink and to school, Dad has already sent a pack-wide link. It rolls through the territory, impossible to ignore. *Increased rogue sightings. Stay alert. Report rot. Do not engage alone.* That’s how Dad handles fear. He turns it into a plan. Then I open the link. *Wellington High wolves,* I send, controlled and clipped—*eyes up today. We’ve got two new wolves who don’t know much. Charlotte and Charlie. Watch over them. Keep them close in case something goes wrong.* Responses ripple back in quick succession.

*On it.*

*Copy.*

*Watching.*

*I’m near Block B.*

*I’ll cover the canteen.*

I want to be the one watching her. I want to be the one close enough to help her if she needs it. Unfortunately, human schedules don’t care about mate bonds. They don’t care about rogues or the fact that my chest is a compass now, always pointing to one girl. So I do what I can. I walk into school, and I act normal, and I pretend the worst thing on my mind is a history quiz, and I keep my senses open in the background, always scanning for rot, always listening for a howl that doesn’t belong. I make it through most of the first period before my phone buzzes in my pocket, and the link opens with Theo’s voice, sharp and excited. *Got him.* My blood goes cold. *Where?* I send back instantly. *He’s alive. Barely. We’ve got him contained. Alpha wants you home.* I tell the teacher I feel sick and don’t even bother making it convincing. I walk out and find Theo waiting for me in his car. We head for home with my hands tight on the seat and Lex rising higher under my skin with every kilometre.

We pull into the driveway, and the house is already busy. Pack members are moving through spaces like water, quiet feet, low voices, eyes alert. Dad meets me at the back door. “Downstairs,” he says. I follow him into the basement room we use when we need privacy. It’s got concrete walls, no windows and a heavy door. The air down here is full of rot. The rogue is chained to a chair in the middle of the room. He’s still in human form, but you could still pick him from a mile away. He lifts his head when I walk in and looks straight at me like he’s been waiting. Theo walks in behind me and leans against the wall, arms crossed, blood dried at his lip. He outwardly looks bored, but his eyes are sharp. Dad stands in front of the rogue with calm authority, like he has all the time in the world. “What do you want?” Dad asks him, and I can already tell it’s not the first time he’s asked that question. The rogue smiles wider. “You know what we want,” he says. Dad’s expression doesn’t change. “Who sent you?” The rogue leans back in the chair as far as the chains allow, still smiling. “You won’t like the answer.” Theo snorts. “Try us.” Hours grind by like that. Questions. Silence. That same smile. The rogue gives up nothing useful. He throws out cryptic lines like he’s reciting a prophecy he thinks will scare us, but it only makes Dad’s eyes colder and Theo’s patience thinner.

At one point, Dad steps out to take a link update from patrol. At another, Theo loses his temper and slams his fist into the concrete wall hard enough to split his skin. The rogue laughs. I stand there and watch and feel Lex pacing in me like he’s trapped, because every second I’m down here is a second Charlotte is somewhere else, living her day, unaware of how close danger is.

By late afternoon, the hunger hits. There’s a sudden drop in my stomach, like my body realises it's been running on adrenaline and bond pull alone. Mum appears at the basement door with a plate in her hand and an expression that says, 'I will not argue.' “Eat,” she says again. “I’m not hungry,” I lie. Mum’s gaze flicks to my hands, to the tension in my shoulders, to the way I’m standing like I’m ready to lunge. “Yes, you are,” she replies, and sets the plate down anyway. I force the food down because she’s right. After all, if I don’t, my control will slip, and Lex will take that as permission to do something reckless. The rogue watches me chew and smile like it’s entertaining. Dad comes back in and ends the session with a single sentence. “Put him in holding,” he tells patrol. “We’ll deal with him when he’s ready to talk.” They drag the rogue out, chains clinking, his smile still in place like he won.

The basement room empties slowly, but Theo lingers beside me. “He’s enjoying this,” he mutters. “Let him,” I say. Theo’s eyes narrow. “You don’t actually sound like you mean that.” I don’t. Because the longer this goes on, the more certain I am that Charlotte is in danger, and that the rogues aren’t just sniffing our territory for fun. They’re circling for her, and I am no closer to figuring out why. I head upstairs, where the house is quieter now as evening settles in. Dad is talking in a low voice with the patrol via the link. Mum is washing dishes like she’s trying to keep normal intact with soap and routine. I should feel relieved that we caught one. I don’t. The pull in my chest has been there all day, soft and steady, and now it tightens suddenly, sharp enough that I stop mid-step and press my palm to my chest. Lex lifts his head inside me. *Something’s wrong,* he says. It’s a sensation. Instinct. That same restless itch that started when the twins arrived. My mouth goes dry. I reach for the link automatically. *Dad,* I send. His reply comes at once. *What is it?* 

*The bond’s pulling harder,* I send. *Lex is on edge.* There’s a pause, then Dad’s voice steadies through the link. *Go carefully. Don’t be seen if you don’t have to. Patrol is already sweeping.* Mum turns from the sink. “You’re going,” she says. It isn’t a question. She knows me. She knows how the bond feels when it needs the other person. I nod once. “I’ll be back.” Mum’s eyes hold mine. “Be careful.”

“I will,” I say, even though Lex is already pressing against my skin, already ready.

I step out into the cold evening and circle behind the garage where no one can see from the road. Snow crunches under my shoes. The sky is darkening, clouds heavy and low. I strip fast, hang my clothes on a branch, and shift. Bones snap. Fur spills. The world sharpens into scent and sound and pull. Lex lands on four paws and lifts his head to the wind, and the mate bond tugs like a leash. It points us forward, and I run silently through the snow, following the thread in my chest that only ever leads to one person.