Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 97

**Charlotte**

The shed door opens with a low creak, and I’m greeted with the smell of damp wood, metal and the stench of rot. It clings to the air, making me want to gag. I slow without meaning to as I step inside, my boots scraping softly against the concrete floor. The rogue is chained to the post. He’s bigger than Arun was, broader through the shoulders, his clothes torn and hanging loose like they’ve been dragged through dirt and brush and something worse. His head is down at first, chest rising and falling too fast, but the second the door shuts behind us, he jerks his head up, and his eyes land on me.

A sound that tears out of him isn’t fully human as he lunges forward against the chains. Metal bites and rattles, the force of it enough to make the whole structure groan around him. “Take your time,” Gareth says quietly at my side. I nod, not letting my eyes leave the rogue. His gaze is locked on me. Fixed. Shanti stirs. *He is further gone.* I can see that, or more so, feel it. I step forward anyway, shoving down all of the rot and bad feelings this guy gives off. The rogue’s breathing grows rougher with every inch I close between us, his chains pulling tight as he strains forward again. He bares his teeth, lips peeled back far enough that I can see the edge of the wolf wanting to break through. I stop just out of reach.

My heart is beating hard enough that I can feel it in my fingertips, but I hold where I am and force myself to breathe through it. This worked before at the diner, and with Arun. I know what it feels like. I reach forward slowly and place my hand on his shoulder. The second my skin makes contact, he jerks like I’ve burned him. The chains snap tight with the force of it, his body twisting, a growl ripping out of him that echoes off the walls and settles heavy in my chest, but nothing changes. Not the way it did before. The anger doesn’t drain; instead, it sharpens. I pull my hand back as my pulse kicks harder. Behind me, I feel Blake take a step forward before stopping himself. I know he doesn’t like this, but he’s trying. Shanti talks me through it calmly. *Again.*

This time, I move more slowly, my hand settling against him with less pressure, focusing on that feeling I had earlier, that quiet place, that calm. For a second, there’s something. A tiny flicker, and his breathing stutters. Then it snaps right back, harder than before, and the chains rattle again as he bares his teeth and growls. I step back. Humans are easy. This is not the same. His anger and pain are so twisted that I find myself struggling to feel calm myself. I draw in a breath and let it out slowly, my hands dropping to my sides. “Okay,” I murmur under my breath. Shanti presses closer, and I turn, stepping away from him and the heat of his anger, moving back toward the door. “Charlotte?” Blake’s voice is low behind me. “I need a second.”

I push the door open and step outside, the cold air hitting my face hard enough to clear the edge of the scent from my lungs. The yard is quiet, dark, and still. I close my eyes and breathe in, and then out again. The same way Mara showed me. The same way I found that field. That place that I need right now. I let the noise fall away. Let the tension drain out of my shoulders, out of my hands, out of my chest until all that’s left is that steady, grounded calm sitting low and solid inside me. Shanti rises, and I let go. The shift takes me faster than it ever has. My body stretches and reshapes in a smooth, fluid motion, the cold biting less as fur settles over my skin, the world sharpening instantly into sound, scent, and movement. Shanti stands where I stood, and this time, she moves. The door opens again under her shoulder, and we step back inside.

Everything changes. The rogue feels it, I know he does, because before I even fully cross the threshold, his movements falter. The chains still, his breathing catching as his head lifts again, and his eyes lock onto mine. Shanti holds his gaze as she steps forward slowly, each movement measured and grounded in that same calm I found outside. The space between us closes again, but this time, he doesn’t lunge. His chest rises and falls, still rough, still uneven, but there’s hesitation there now. A break in the pattern. A pause where there was only reaction before. Shanti stops in front of him, and she lowers her head slightly, her eyes never leaving his. Then she reaches. Her nose brushes his shoulder first. Then her body shifts closer, pressing just enough to make contact, and the effect is immediate. His breathing stutters. The tension in his body loosens by degrees rather than snapping tight, the growl in his throat fading into a quieter, more uncertain sound. I feel it through her, that same pull, that calm, but it’s stronger now. Deeper.

She moves again, circling once, never breaking that connection, and when she comes back around to face him, she lowers herself to sit in front of him. He stays where he is, watching, breathing. Shanti draws in a slow breath, and then she lets out a soft howl. It carries through the shed like something warm and steady, something that doesn’t demand or push, just is. The sound wraps around the space, settles into the walls, into the air, into him.

I feel it move through us both. The calm. The peace. The place I found. The place that belongs to us. The rogue shudders. His head drops slightly, his shoulders loosening further as the fight drains out of him piece by piece, the tension leaving in a way that looks almost painful, like he’s letting go of something he’s held for too long. His breathing slows, and the chains stop rattling, and then, slowly, he looks up again. His eyes meet mine now with something human. His mouth opens slightly, his voice rough. “…please…” He begs, and I know. He’s found his humanity again.