Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 83

**Blake**

I last about three minutes. Maybe four, if I’m being generous with myself. Dad sends Charlie and me outside with Theo to “busy ourselves,” which, in theory, means helping John drag a few things back toward the shed and checking the side fence, where one of the posts has gone loose in the cold. In practice, it means I do half of one job, hear absolutely none of what Theo is saying, and spend the entire time looking toward the back windows like a complete idiot. Lex is no help. *They are inside.*

*I know where they are.*

*Then why are we out here?* I don’t answer him because I don’t have one that doesn’t make me sound pathetic. Charlie straightens from where he’s crouched by the fence post and looks over at me. “You’re doing that thing again.” I frown. “What thing?”

“The one where you look like your soul stayed inside and your body got left out here with us.” Theo laughs so hard he nearly drops the hammer he’s been pretending to help with. I shoot both of them a look. “Can you two shut up for five minutes?” Theo grins. “No.” Charlie stands fully and brushes the snow off his hands. “If you’re going to creep around the windows, at least commit to it.”

“I’m not creeping.”

“The word means exactly what you’re doing.” I look back toward the house. The curtains in the living room are only partly drawn, enough to block a full view from out here, but not enough to stop me catching movement through the glass when someone moves. Lex perks up. *Go closer.*

*No.*

*Yes.* Before I can decide which of us is more embarrassing, Mum’s laugh drifts faintly through the cracked kitchen window, capturing my attention. Did Charlotte say something funny? What was it? I like jokes. Why am I even out here? Theo jerks his head toward the side of the house. “You know there’s a better angle from the deck.” I turn to look at him slowly, and he lifts one shoulder. “What? As he said,” he motions to Charlie, “commit to it.” I hate that this is becoming a group activity.

Still, five seconds later, I’m walking toward the back deck with both of them behind me. We stop just short of the kitchen window. From here, I can see part of the living room through the open archway. Mum is sitting on the couch with that huge old book open in her lap, and Charlotte is opposite her, curled slightly inward. Mum reads something from the page, glances up, says a few words I can’t quite catch, and Charlotte nods slowly. “What do you reckon they’re talking about?” Theo asks under his breath. “White wolves,” Charlie says immediately. “Well, yeah, but like, what? Do they have more powers than just that howling thing?” Charlie shrugs. I stay quiet because I’m watching Charlotte’s face, trying to learn her body language and all her silent cues. Does she need me? Maybe the bond wants me closer. *She is learning herself,* Lex says at last. I drag my eyes away from the window long enough to glance at Charlie. “What do you know about her wolf?” He lifts a shoulder helplessly. “Only what we’ve seen.” Theo leans one shoulder against the weatherboards. “I know they apparently make men useless.” I look at him, and he grins. “You’ve been weird since you found her.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“You’re welcome.”

Inside, Mum closes the book and sets it down on the coffee table. Then she shifts, crossing one leg beneath her on the couch, and says something that makes Charlotte sit up straighter. “What now?” Charlie mutters. Mum gestures toward the floor in front of the fireplace, and Charlotte slides off the couch and lowers herself onto the rug. Mum follows, settling opposite her. She places one hand over the centre of her own chest and says something quietly, something I still can’t fully hear from here through these stupid walls. Charlotte watches her, then mirrors the movement, palm resting lightly over her sternum. Mum’s shoulders rise once, then lower. Charlotte follows. I feel it before I understand it. There’s a small change in the bond. It moves through me in a quiet pulse, low and even, and Lex lifts his head. *There.*

Charlotte’s eyes are closed now, her shoulders have dropped, and the line between her brows is gone. For the first time off the ice, I see what it looks like when she is sitting inside her own body without bracing for the next thing to hit. She looks peaceful, calm, and safe inside my home with my mother. I glance at Charlie and find him watching his sister with wide eyes. It’s clear it’s a rarity to see Charlotte like this. *You may as well come in, Blake.* Mum’s voice says through the link. Her eyes open, and she stares at me through the window as she speaks loud enough for me to hear now. “We can hear you out there,” she says. “You’re not exactly discreet.” I drag a hand over my face and head for the back door because there’s no recovering my dignity at this point, and I do want to be closer. Lex, of course, is delighted. *She invited us in.*

*She invited me in because I’m apparently incapable of minding my own business.*

*Same thing.*

I step into the living room, where Charlotte is still on the rug, red creeping up her cheeks. I feel bad now, maybe she didn’t want me here. Maybe she wanted to do this alone. I stop near the couch and shove my hands into my pockets. “Sorry.” Mum waves it off. “You were coming in eventually. You alpha wolves are impossible to keep away from your mates.” Charlotte looks at me for one quick second, then away again. I glance at the book. At the rug. At Mum. “What are you doing?” I ask, and Mum’s smile softens. “Teaching her how to be still enough to hear herself.” My eyes go back to Charlotte. She sits there in the middle of the room, jumper sleeves over her hands, hair loose around her shoulders, cheeks pink, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything look more breakable or stronger at the same time. “Can I join you?” I ask and wait for Charlotte to look at me. When she does, she looks shocked, like maybe she thought I was asking Mum. But it’s her space I’m intruding on right now, and it’s her that I want to feel safe enough to keep going. She blinks, then nods, small but sure. “Okay.” I step around the table and lower myself onto the rug across from her. Mum watches us both for a second, then settles back without a word. Charlotte adjusts her hands over her chest again, and I mirror it. “Just breathe,” Mum says quietly. I do, I watch the way Charlotte’s chest rises and falls, and I match my breaths with hers. In. Out. In. Out. I sit in the moment, and I breathe.