Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 56

**Charlotte**

Mara helps me dress like there is nowhere else in the world she needs to be. She moves around the room, laying things out on the bed, talking softly about nothing and everything while I wipe the last of the tears from my face. She picks soft black pants that don’t pull too tightly over my injured leg, a warm cream jumper that falls loose at my wrists, thick socks, and boots with fur lining inside. Everything is warm and fits perfectly. When I fumble with the jumper, she steps in without a word and helps guide it over my head, tugging it down gently when my hair catches in the collar. Then she sits me on the edge of the bed and stands behind me with a brush. The first pull through my hair makes me go still. For a second, I feel like I’m small again, sitting cross-legged on the floor while Mum stands behind me before school. Mara smooths my hair down, tucks it back from my face, then crouches in front of me to help me into my boots. “You tell me if anything hurts,” she says. I nod, and by the time she stands again, I feel different. Still nervous and sore, but put together enough to be seen. “There,” she says, smiling at me. “Beautiful.” Heat rises to my cheeks before I can stop it.

She slips an arm around my waist and helps me toward the door. I manage a few careful steps into the hallway before a familiar warmth moves in close. Blake is already there, waiting. His eyes slide over me once, before he asks, “You ready?” I nod, then immediately regret it because ready is a very generous word for whatever state I’m actually in. Blake bends before I can argue and lifts me into his arms like it is the most natural thing in the world. My hands catch against his shoulders on instinct. Mara smiles to herself and walks ahead of us down the hall. When we get downstairs, the living room is waiting.

Gareth stands near the coffee table with Charlie, Theo, and John nearby. They all look up when we enter. The room is warm, lamplight pooling across polished timber, voices and movement from somewhere outside drifting faintly through the glass at the back of the house. Blake carries me to the couch, and Gareth watches me carefully, then asks, “Are you ready, Charlotte?” 

“I am,” I say as Charlie sits down next to me. Gareth moves around the coffee table and sits across from us. He rolls his sleeves up his forearms as he talks. “We’re going to link arms like this,” he says. He reaches first for Charlie, wrapping one hand around Charlie’s forearm just below the elbow. Then he does the same to mine, his grip firm and warm. “Take hold of my forearms the same way.” Gareth glances between us. “You’ll repeat after me. One at a time.” Charlie nods, and Gareth looks at him first. “I, Charlie Pierce...” Charlie takes in a deep breath and repeats it. “I, Charlie Pierce...”

“Accept your offer into the Wellington Pack.”

“I accept your offer into the Wellington Pack.”

Gareth keeps his eyes on him. “I come in peace and in good faith,” Charlie repeats. “I give my loyalty to the pack, my respect to its laws, and my strength to its people,” Charlie says, each word clearly, jaw set. “I will not raise hand nor wolf against my own.”

“I will not raise hand nor wolf against my own.”

“I will stand with the pack, and let the pack stand with me,” Charlie repeats, and I watch his eyes widen as their grips on each other loosen, and a wide smile spreads across his face. Gareth smiles, “Welcome to the pack, son.” Then he turns to me.

“I, Charlotte Pierce...” He starts. My voice comes out quieter than Charlie’s, “I, Charlotte Pierce...” “Accept your offer into the Wellington Pack. I come in peace and in good faith. I give my loyalty to the pack, my respect to its laws, and my strength to its people. I will not raise hand nor wolf against my own. I will stand with the pack, and let the pack stand with me.” The second the final word leaves me, something opens. It is so sudden that I jerk. A rush of warmth tears through my chest, so fast and bright that it steals my breath. It moves outward in every direction at once, like a door inside me has swung wide and the world on the other side has been waiting. Voices crash into my head. There’s a burst of laughter and cheering. The sound of approval rolls over itself in a dozen different tones until I can’t tell where one ends and the next begins.

Beside me, Charlie makes a strangled sort of laugh under his breath. I turn my head and find him looking back at me with the same stunned expression I know is on my own face. He can hear it too. My grip slips from Gareth’s forearm as the voices keep coming, layered over one another in a wild, happy swell. Then, just as quickly as it rose, it settles. It leaves behind a hum under my skin—a strange new connection and feeling of safety. I lift my head, and my eyes find Blake straight away. He is already looking at me. *Welcome* *to* *the* *pack**,* *Charlotte**.* A shiver runs up my spine, and Blake’s expression softens when he sees that I heard him before. A smile pulls at Blake’s mouth. Then Charlie lets out a breath beside me, and the room comes rushing back in. Theo claps once and grins. John smiles warmly. Mara wipes quickly under one eye, and Gareth rises from the coffee table and straightens his sleeves again. “Welcome, Charlotte,” he says.

Outside, more voices rise from the backyard, and I know the pack is gathering to meet us. Charlie bumps his shoulder lightly against mine. “You alright, Lotty?” I look down at my hands, then toward Blake, then at the room that somehow does not feel like someone else’s house in quite the same way it did this morning. The hum of the pack is still there under my skin. “Yes,” I say, and this time I mean it. “I think I am.”