Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 72

**Blake**

I would be lying if I said I was focusing on practice for myself. My attention has been fixed on Charlotte the whole time. She’s out there on the ice in those new skates, moving like she’s forgotten anyone else exists, and I don’t think I’ve taken a proper shot since we stepped onto the rink. The puck slides off my stick and taps uselessly against the boards while I watch her glide over the centre line, her arms lifting with the music like it’s pulling the movement out of her instead of the other way around. I love the way her eyes close when she skates. The way her smile lights up her whole face is like something in her finally gets to breathe. I think she likes the skates, and it’s not just Lex puffing his chest right now. *We are good mates. She will praise us,* he says smugly in my mind. I huff out a quiet breath. *Settle down.*

*No.* Charlie wasn’t lying either when he said you couldn’t help but stare when she skates. I see it now. I feel it in my soul. There’s something about the way she moves that pulls at you, drags your attention in and holds it there. It’s not just that she’s good. She’s otherworldly. The way she flows, the way her body moves, it’s as if the ice is listening to her. I lean my stick against my shoulder and watch her push out across the ice, her blade carving a clean line beneath her, body following. I can see Jess and her team have slowed down, too. They’re watching her, and I can feel the shift in Charlotte before anything happens. There’s a flicker of nerves under our bond. Doubled with the hesitation from her. Charlie must feel it too. Maybe it’s a twin thing. Or maybe he just knows her that well. He skates in beside me, slowing to a stop with a quiet scrape of his blades. His eyes are already on his sister, his jaw tightening slightly. “Are they going to be a problem?” he asks, low. I can tell he’s already half a second away from moving. I shake my head once. “Nah.” He doesn’t look convinced, and I don’t blame him. I know they’ve both had it hard with people being dicks. “They’re really nice,” I add. Charlie keeps watching anyway.

Jess pushes off from her group and heads toward Charlotte, hands settling on her hips as she slows in front of her. From here, I can see Charlotte go very still. I can sense she’s bracing for something she’s already decided is going to hurt. Charlie’s shoulders tense beside me, too, but I don’t move. Instead, I listen. My hearing sharpens, and the rest of the rink dulls around the edges while Jess’s voice carries clean across the ice. “What do you think you’re doing over here?” I feel it in my chest, that sharp little drop in Charlotte that breaks my own heart. Charlie swears under his breath, and I tap his stick with mine. “Give it a second,” I say quietly. Jess rolls her eyes, and then she smiles. The tension in Charlotte doesn’t disappear straight away; it turns more into confusion as Jess points across the rink and says something about her being on the wrong side. Charlie’s head tilts slightly as he looks between his sister and me. “…What?” he mutters. Jess grabs Charlotte’s arm and starts towing her back toward the group, and Charlie straightens beside me, ready to go. I reach out and catch his arm lightly. “Wait.”

I force him to watch with me. Jess is talking fast now, something about rhythm and skating with people who can keep up with her. The rest of the group gathers around them, and Jess says something else. Then Charlotte turns, and her eyes find mine across the rink. There’s uncertainty there. A question. Like she’s waiting to be told what to do. For a second, I forget how to breathe. *Reassure our mate, dammit!* Lex all but yells at me, pulling me out of my moment of surprise. She needs me to tell her it’s okay. That she’s safe. I grin like an idiot and lift my hand, giving her the biggest thumbs up I can manage. Do it. Go. You’ve got this. It must work because, a second later, Jess claps once, excitedly. “Annabelle, music!” The speakers crackle as the song shifts and the figure skaters drift back, forming a loose circle around Charlotte. The whole rink seems to quiet in that strange way where nothing actually stops, but all the attention pulls to one place. She pushes off, and just like that, she steals the air from my lungs.

The first glide she makes is smooth and easy. Then she turns into it, her blade cutting through the ice as she shifts her weight and rolls through the movement without breaking stride. She builds speed without looking like she’s trying. One step flows into the next, her feet crossing, uncrossing, turning, her body following like it knows exactly where it’s going before she does. Her arms lift with the music, soft and loose, and her head tilts just slightly like she’s listening to something that no one else can hear. I forget the rest of the rink exists. She dips low, spinning tight to the ice, fast enough that her hair blurs around her face, then she rises out of it, pushing straight into a jump that makes me think she might be a fairy. She lands clean and keeps moving as if the impact didn’t even touch her. I catch Jess swearing under her breath, and one of the guys near her lets out a quiet, “Jesus.”

Charlotte stretches out across the ice, one leg lifting behind her, body leaning forward like she’s floating more than skating, blade carving a long, clean line that doesn’t waver once. She holds it beautifully, then drops back into motion like it’s nothing. There’s no hesitation in her. No second-guessing. She just moves. The ice knows her. It’s answering her. *We should praise her now,* Lex says, far too pleased with himself. I don’t answer because I’m too busy watching my mate take over the entire rink without even trying.