Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 61

**Blake**

By the time I come back to the house, the backyard sits under a deep blue night with the lanterns still swaying gently beneath the marquees, half-finished plates left on tables, chairs pushed back in the snow, and a thin ribbon of smoke lifting from the firepit into the cold. The barbecue has been turned down low, but the smell of charred steak and onions still hangs in the air, tangled with pine, frost, and the dark metallic tang of rogue blood drying across my knuckles and the front of my shirt. I take the back steps two at a time and push through the door into the kitchen, bringing the cold in with me. Warmth wraps around me at once. The lights are low, and everyone inside the house has dropped into quiet conversation. Kids are sprawled on every inch of the floor, while the rest of the women stand or sit wherever they can. Mum looks up from the kitchen table the second I step inside. Her eyes move over me quickly, taking in the dirt on my jeans, the blood on my hands, the split seam near my shoulder, and the smear of mud drying along my forearm. “You’re hurt?” she asks, already rising. “Just bruised.” She searches my face for another second. “Did you get them?”

“We got one.” Her gaze flicks toward the stairs. “Alive?” I nod again. “He’s chained in the old storage shed,” I say quietly. “Dad’s got six men rotating watch.” Mum lets out a slow breath and presses her palm once against the table. “She’s upstairs.” Every part of me sparks at the mention of her. “She okay?” Mum’s mouth softens into a small smile. “Theo and Charlie took her up when the house got crowded. She was falling asleep on her feet.” I glance toward the ceiling, and the pull in my chest tightens further. “I’ll look in on her.” Mum gives me a look full of things she does not say, then waves me on with one small flick of her fingers. “Go.”

I leave muddy prints on the stairs as I head up, the house creaking quietly beneath each step. The hallway is dim, lit only by the lamp near the turn and a strip of moonlight lying pale across the floorboards at the far end. I stop outside the bedroom door and ease it open slowly. The lamp beside the bed has been left on low, casting a warm amber glow over the room. Charlotte is asleep in the middle of the bed, still wearing the cream jumper and my jacket. One arm is bent near her face, the blanket twisted around her legs, and her pale hair spread over the pillow in a loose tangle. Theo is asleep on the floor to the left of the bed with one knee bent and one arm flung over his stomach. Charlie is on the other side with his back against the wall, and his head tipped sideways, arms folded over his chest. His body is angled toward the door even in sleep.

I step into the room and close the door gently behind me. Theo wakes first when I nudge the toe of his boot with mine. He jerks, blinks up at me, then scrubs a hand over his face when he realises who it is. “You look rough,” he mutters. “You should see the other guy.” That gets a tired grin out of him as he pushes himself up onto one elbow. Charlie is awake before I touch him, his eyes open quickly and clearly, already fixed on me. “What happened?” he asks, keeping his voice low. “We got one,” I say, and Charlie straightens against the wall.  I glance toward Charlotte before I continue. “Dad made the call after Theo sent through what she felt.” Theo lets out a long breath through his nose and looks over at the bed. Charlie’s gaze follows mine, settling on his sister for a second before he looks back at me. Theo gets to his feet with a quiet groan and stretches his back. “You’ve got her?”

“I’ve got her.” He dips his chin and heads for the door. Charlie pushes himself up more slowly, one hand braced against the wall, then looks down at Charlotte and steps closer to pull the blanket higher over her hip. “Wake me if anything changes,” he says. “I will.” He gives one short nod and follows Theo out, closing the door softly behind him.

I stand there for a second longer, looking at her. She sleeps hard, pulled deep under by exhaustion, her face turned slightly into the pillow, her lashes dark against her cheeks, her hand half curled near the edge of the mattress. There are still faint shadows under her eyes, and a crease resting between her brows. I head into the bathroom, wash the blood from my hands and forearms, then drag my ruined shirt over my head and swap it for an old tee from the dresser. The bruise along my ribs has darkened and spread, but it sits dull and manageable beneath the ache in my shoulders and the weight dragging through my bones. When I come back out, I grab the spare blanket from the chair and lower myself onto the floor beside the bed where Charlie had been. I rest my shoulder against the mattress and listen to Charlotte’s breath above me.

I think about the way the pack shifted when Theo shouted the new direction, instantly trusting her. Dad’s order snapped from ‘kill’ to ‘capture’ once he understood what Charlotte had felt. I think about the rogue thrashing under us and the thin flash of something human in his face before the chains bit into his skin and the wildness swallowed it again. I look at her and know with a certainty that settles straight into my soul that she is far more than rare. She is the answer to something wolves like us have been losing for a very long time. Charlotte stirs in her sleep, and her brow pulls tighter. Before I can think twice, I reach up and brush a strand of hair back from her cheek. She settles at once, breath easing out slowly, the crease fading from between her brows. My hand lingers for a moment before I pull it back. “Bloody hell, Lotty,” I whisper. 

I shift until my shoulder rests more comfortably against the side of the bed, pull the blanket over my legs, and tilt my head back. Charlotte’s hand lies near the edge of the mattress, palm relaxed, fingers loose with sleep. I lift mine and curl it lightly around hers. Her fingers move once against my skin, soft and instinctive, then go still again. A slow smile pulls at my mouth in the dark. *Protect her.* Lex reminds me for the millionth time tonight. *Always.* I tell him as I let my eyes close.