Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 43

**Blake**

The moment she runs, the world narrows to one thing. Blood in snow. Her scent is gone so fast it makes me feel sick, and Lex surges forward faster, head low, eyes scanning, paws digging into the powder as we tear into the trees after her. The bond is still there, pulling hard, tugging me forward like a hook under my ribs. I hit the edge of the alley and find the first red drops on the snow like a trail of broken beads. Lex drops his nose and follows. It leads between trunks, over roots, and through patches where snow has drifted deep. Every few metres, Lex lifts his head, listening for movement, for breath, for the wrong kind of silence, because rogues don’t always stop at one strike, and I can still taste rot in the back of my throat. Her scent should be here, but it isn’t. At first, I think the wind is wrong, then I think I’m moving too fast, then I think the blood must have come from the rogue, but the trail keeps heading in a direction that looks instinctive. Then it clicks. Every story Mum read to me as a kid, every old pack book Dad made me memorise, every whispered legend about white wolves being rare for a reason. When they want, white wolves can mask their scent. They can vanish. They can make the world forget how to find them. It makes sense now, because the last thing she wants is to be followed, and the last thing her wolf wants is for anyone to track her when she’s hurt. So all I have is blood and the bond. Lex follows it anyway, frantic, mind running in circles around the same ugly questions.

How bad is the injury?

Did a rogue get a clean bite?

Will they try again?

Is she alone?

Is she freezing?

Is she scared?

We cut through the woods and past the lake. For a second, I expect to see her there, because it’s her place, and it’s where she goes when she needs air. But the ice is empty, and the blood trail keeps pulling deeper into the trees, away from the open water. Lex runs the border line without meaning to, skirting the edge of territory like the path is choosing itself, and I’m so focused on the red drops that I almost miss the shape of a roof through the snow. My backyard comes into view, the big tree near the fence line heavy with snow, branches sagging low, and for half a heartbeat, I think I’ve lost her because the yard looks empty. Then Lex stops so hard that snow sprays up around his paws. Under the tree, half hidden by drifted snow, there’s a shape that shouldn’t blend so perfectly. Only the blood gives her away, a thin smear against the snow, and the eyes, green and bright, flicking up to Lex with a sharp, exhausted focus. Shanti. Charlotte.

She’s lying down, panting hard, chest rising, and when Lex takes one careful step closer, she lets out a small whimper that goes straight through my ribs. Then she drags her back leg out slightly, offering it like she’s asking for help, the only way she knows how. The fur on her leg is stained red. The bite mark is ugly against the white, and Lex lowers his head and sniffs. He licks once carefully, the way wolves do when they’re trying to soothe without making it worse. Shanti whimpers again, quieter this time, and her ears flatten as she presses her chin into the snow like she’s trying to disappear into it. Mate, Lex thinks, low and urgent, and the bond flares with it, hot under my skin. I open the link without moving away from her. *Mum. Dad.* Dad answers first, his voice tight with movement and distance. *We’ve already heard. I’m almost at the diner.* Of course, he went straight there to handle the humans, the aftermath, and the mess we just made behind a public building. I swallow hard and push my words through the link anyway. *We’re in the backyard. Bring me clothes. Charlotte is hurt.* Then Mum’s voice comes through. *I’m coming.* Lex doesn’t move. He stays with his body angled toward Shanti. Less than a minute later, the back door bangs open and Mum runs out with a bundle of clothes and blankets in her arms. She stops short when she sees the white shape beneath the tree, and the sound she makes is small and broken. “Oh,” Mum breathes. She takes a slow step closer, then another, as if she’s approaching something sacred. “She’s…” Mum whispers, and her eyes flick over Shanti’s coat like she can’t stop looking. “She’s beautiful.” Lex huffs once, impatient, and nudges Mum forward with his shoulder, reminding her that admiration can wait.

Mum kneels carefully in the snow, voice softening as she reaches out, palm hovering a second before she touches Shanti’s neck. Shanti flinches at first, then stills, eyes blinking slowly as Mum’s hand begins to stroke through the fur in long, steady motions. Mum’s gaze flicks to Lex. “Go,” she says quietly. “Get changed. I’ve got her.” Lex hesitates, every instinct refusing to leave. Mum presses her hand gently into Shanti’s fur and repeats it with more certainty. “I’ve got her.” Lex backs up two steps, never turning his eyes away. I force my body to move, darting behind the house where the fence blocks the view, shifting fast. I yank clothes on with numb fingers and shove my feet into shoes that don’t fully cooperate.

Then I’m running back around the corner. Mum is still kneeling in the snow beside Shanti, one hand stroking her coat, the other holding the blanket ready. Her voice is low as she murmurs a mantra. “Om Shakti, Shakti, Shakti,” she repeats softly. Then she adds the meaning, giving Charlotte something to hold onto. “Power, movement, energy.” She whispers. Shanti’s panting slows by a fraction, and when Mum’s hand slides up behind her ear, Shanti leans into it. I swallow hard and crouch on Shanti’s other side. “Her name is Shanti”, I murmur. Mum’s gaze flicks up to me, then back to Shanti. “Shanti,” she says quietly. “Shanti needs Shakti; she needs strength.”

I grab the blanket Mum dropped beside her and drape it carefully over Shanti’s back, tucking it around her shoulders and sides, trying to trap warmth without pressing her injured leg. Shanti watches me do it, eyes tracking every movement. I keep my voice low and calm. “I’m going to help you inside now,” I tell her. “Okay?” Shanti blinks slowly, then gives the smallest nod, almost imperceptible. I slide one arm under her chest and the other under her hips, lifting carefully, keeping the injured leg supported so it doesn’t twist. Shanti lets out a small sound, then settles against me, heavy and warm under the blanket, breath puffing against my neck. Mum stands quickly and opens the back door for me, moving ahead to clear space. I carry Shanti inside, each step careful. I have my mate. Now I need to protect her.