Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 54

**Charlotte**

I wake slowly, like I’m dragging myself up through deep water. For a second, I don’t know where I am. The ceiling above me is unfamiliar, the sheets softer than mine, the air warmer than it should be, and then it all clicks into place, piece by piece. The pack house. Blake’s room. The lake. The blood. The pain. My eyes flick toward the curtains. Light glows through them in a dull gold wash. It must be late afternoon, maybe even evening. Heat creeps up my neck. I slept the whole day away. I push myself upright carefully, wincing out of habit more than anything, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My feet touch the floorboards, and cool timber presses under my skin. I sit there for a second, steadying myself, and then I blink down at my leg. It doesn’t hurt the way it should. I move it a little to test. The sharp, biting pain from before is gone. There’s still soreness there, a pull through the muscle, a deep ache tucked under the skin, but it’s better. Way better. Too much better. I stare at it, then let my hand slide over the spot that had been screaming at me earlier. The healing has gone faster than it ever has before. Shanti shifts sleepily inside me, warm and smug. I unwrap the bandage and look down to see that the swelling is minimal, the bruising almost non-existent. I press my lips together and ease some weight onto it. The floorboard creaks, and the door flies open so fast I jump.

Blake stands there breathing hard, eyes wide, chest rising and falling like he sprinted here the second he felt me move. His hair is a mess, his shirt slightly twisted, and for one strange second, all I can do is stare at him. Shanti gives this pleased little purr inside my chest. I don’t even realise I’m doing it too until Blake’s whole face changes. His expression softens. The tension in his shoulders eases. He steps toward me slowly, like he’s being pulled. “What are you doing, Lotty?” he asks. His voice is low and rough, and it slides straight through me. I swallow. “My... my leg feels better.” He crouches in front of me without hesitation, big hands gentle as they hover near my calf before carefully inspecting and checking the damage himself. His fingers brush just above my ankle, and my breath catches stupidly hard. “It does look better,” he murmurs. His thumb moves lightly along the side of my leg, then he lifts his eyes to mine. “But not perfect. No walking on it yet.” The purring gets louder. My eyes widen. Oh my God. Blake’s mouth twitches. Then he chuckles, low and warm, and I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I clamp my mouth shut like that will somehow help. It doesn’t. Shanti is clearly having the best time of her life. “Do you need something?” he asks.

He’s still crouched there, still too close, still looking at me in that way that makes it impossible to think straight. It’s as if he can see every scrambled thought in my head and finds all of them entertaining. I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again. “I, uh...” My voice comes out embarrassingly small. “I need to use the restroom.” The words hang there, and my entire body goes hot. Blake just nods once, like I haven’t said the single most humiliating thing possible, and rises to his feet. He steps in close before I can protest properly, and then I’m suddenly off the bed, one arm under my knees, the other braced around my back, my whole body tucked against his chest. I let out a startled noise and grab at his shoulders automatically. “You can’t...” I suck in a breath. “No. Blake, I can do it.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Lotty,” he says quietly. He doesn’t even break stride. “Not with me.” That should not do whatever it does to my insides, but it does. His body is all solid heat and steady strength, and the stupidest part is how easy it feels to be held by him. Like he could carry me forever and never once make me feel heavy.

He takes me into the bathroom and sets me down carefully on my good leg, one hand still at my waist, until he knows I’m balanced. I catch myself against the wall, fingers splaying over cool paint. He waits just long enough to make sure I’m not going to fall, then gives me another one of those small, certain nods and steps back out, pulling the door shut behind him. The second he’s gone, I hobble to the sink and turn the tap on. Water rushes into the silence. Then I hobble as fast as my dignity will allow over to the toilet. I might not know much about wolves, but I know enough to know they hear everything, and Blake is absolutely not listening to that. By the time I’m done, my face is still burning.

I wash my hands longer than necessary, splash a bit of water over my cheeks, then stare at myself in the mirror. I look rough. My hair is a mess. My eyes are puffy from sleep. There’s still a faint drain to my skin from blood loss and pain and whatever else my body has been trying to recover from. But there’s colour in my cheeks now, a little more life than before, and my leg really does look better. That should probably be the strangest part of today. It isn’t. I hobble back to the door and pull it open. Then I freeze. The room is full. A whole lot of people are suddenly standing in it who definitely were not there a minute ago. My brother. Blake. His parents. Theo. Another man I don’t know. All of them turn toward me at once. Thank God I turned the tap on.