C4

"Are you out of your mind, Tyler?!" Mike barked, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls of the equipment room. "If the Captain was planning to sign a treaty with the Bennett pack, do you honestly think I’d be standing here fixing steel blades? I’d be ripping his jersey to shreds!"

"Keep your fur on, Dawson," Tyler Dawson muttered, slamming his locker shut with enough force to dent the metal. "How could Ethan Carter just hand the northern ice over to Chloe? He wouldn't even touch that line back when the Bennett family had full control of the division. Now that their franchise is rotting from the inside, he suddenly wants to bind with him? It doesn't make sense!"

"I don't know the politics behind it, Tyler! Patricia Bennett called me directly from the Skydrivee border cabin. Do you think an old wolf like her lies about a broken mate bond?" Mike shoved Tyler back against the bench, his teeth bared as his inner wolf pushed against his throat. "That traitorous piece of trash. I'm taking the snow-runner to the main arena and pulling him off the ice myself."

"Don't be a fool, Mike," Tyler said, catching his arm before he could shift. "You can't challenge an Alpha on his own rink when the whole team is watching. Stay at the training facility. I'll ride out to Mysticfall and get the truth."

Ethan didn't let anyone know his runner had crossed the valley lines, but Brandon Hayes was already waiting by the iron gates of the Carter compound before the engine had even cooled. Brandon had spent the last three days pacing the arena floor, tracking rumors through the old pack network. After checking the logistics at the Bennett training center the previous night, he had seen the white ceremonial banners being raised over the ice.

"You know exactly why I'm blocking your door, Ethan," Brandon said, stepping into the stone hall, his eyes locking onto the Alpha's rigid posture. "Give me a reason. Any reason why you're throwing the Parker line to the wolves!"

I sat on the heavy leather bench, slowly unlacing my skates, my hands steady even as the pack bond screamed in the back of my mind. "I don't owe an explanation to the roster, Brandon."

"So you don't owe one to Collins Parker either?" Brandon spat, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. "Or did you just let the ice freeze over your old vows?!"

I hurled the skate against the stone floor, the steel blade throwing sparks as it skittered across the flags. "This is my territory! My choice! It has nothing to do with the team!"

Brandon kicked the wooden gear trunk between us, his chest heaving as his jaw shifted toward his wolf form. "Do you have any idea what Chloe Bennett looks like since the arena fire, Ethan? Go ahead and put your mark on his neck if you want to spend the rest of your winters staring at a ghost!"

"Did you scent him?" I asked, my fingers tightening around the leather laces.

"I did," Brandon said, his anger dropping into something heavier, almost hollow, as he realized I wasn't fighting back. He pulled a small flint from his pocket and tossed it onto the hearth, lighting the dry kindling to keep the room from dropping below zero. "He called me to the blue line himself. He wanted me to see what the fire did to his skin before you arrived."

I stood up, pulling my heavy wool jersey over my shoulders. "Is the Tierney bloodline backing his claim?"

"It's not the Tierneys, Ethan. It's the old council. I thought Chloe wouldn't have the stomach to show his face at the center circle after what happened to his pack, but his father is pushing the contract hard. They want a full ceremonial match before the full moon."

"What does the scar look like?" I asked, my voice flat.

"Like silver-burn," Brandon muttered, staring into the flames. "It's hard to look at without your wolf wanting to run. The old pride is gone, Ethan. There's just ice left in his eyes. I don't know if he wants you or if he just wants to watch Silvercrest Holdings burn with him."

"I'm meeting him at the rink tomorrow morning," I said, grabbing my travel furs.

"He might let you out of the clause if you look at the damage," Brandon sighed, leaning against the stone archway.

"I will sign the treaty regardless of what the fire left behind," I said, stepping past him into the cold corridor. "I've already torn the throat out of my own happiness. I don't have another move on the board."

"Did you know you were going to do this before the winter classic?" Brandon demanded, tracking my scent as I moved toward the armory. "Why did you run up to Skydrivee then? You spent the midwinter festival in his den. You even let the pack carvers put your mark on his family sled! Were you completely out of your mind?!"

"I was," I said, my jaw tightening until my fangs pricked my tongue. "Every dream I have is filled with his scent. When he called me to the northern rink, my logic stayed in the southern woods. I wanted one last skate on clean ice."

"You knew it would shatter him when you left, Ethan. Why couldn't you keep your wolf on a leash? How do you expect Collins and the pups to hunt after this? You didn't tell him about the council's threat, did you?"

"Tell him so he can bring his wolves into a war they can't win?" I turned on him, my eyes flashing gold in the dim corridor. "It's my blood debt. I'll pay it on my own ice."

"You can handle the Bennett blades, Ethan, but Collins won't forgive the deceit," Brandon warned, stepping back. "If Margaret hadn't given up her spot in the alpha lodge to protect the little ones last spring, do you really think Collins would have let you back into his territory?"

The light from the high windows caught the frost on the stone floor, making the room look like an open grave. Before Brandon could say another word, the heavy iron handles of the front gate rattled. Mike and Tyler were already coming through the outer courtyard, their boots crunching loud against the hard-packed snow.

"Mike's here to take your head, Captain," Brandon whispered, checking his grip on his stick.

I didn't answer. I just watched the heavy oak doors splinter as Mike threw his weight against the iron bolts.

"I couldn't hold him back, Alpha!" Tyler shouted, his face flushed from the wind. "Don't take his teeth to heart!"

"Ethan Carter!" Mike roared, stepping over the threshold, his coat dripping gray slush onto the clean flags. "Even if your wolf slaughtered the whole line, Tyler would still say you were tracking straight! You have to be completely blind to follow a piece of garbage who trades his mate for a northern arena!"

"Watch your tongue, Mike," Brandon barked, stepping between them before the claws could come out.

Mike didn't look at Brandon. He pointed a scarred finger straight at my chest, though the house guards already had their silver-edged spears crossed between us. "You broke Collins' bond for a piece of property, Ethan. You're not an Alpha. You're just a rogue with a title!"

The guards dragged Mike back out into the blizzard before he could pull his blade, Tyler following close behind to keep the peace.

"I'm taking you straight to the mountain line, Mike," Tyler said, shoving him into the passenger seat of the heavy snow-runner. "Collins is probably freezing in that cabin right now, and you're out here trying to get your throat ripped out by the Carter guard."

"He didn't even deny it, Tyler," Mike growled, pulling his phone from his heavy leather tunic. "I'm calling Charlotte Whitmore. Someone needs to get to Skydrivee before Collins lets his wolf fade."

Up in the northern hills, Charlotte didn't wait for the storm to clear. The moment Mike's report came through the radio, he fired up his heavy sled and tore through the mountain drifts toward the Parker den.

The shifting fever had come back by the time Charlotte reached the valley. I could hear the wind howling through the logs of the bedroom as I lay under the furs, my skin boiling from the rejection of the bond. I had tried to stand up at dawn to explain the division of the territory to Layla and Hayden, but the heat in my blood was too thick. I couldn't risk passing the sickness to the pups before their first winter shift.

Charlotte closed the heavy pine door behind him, his boots sliding softly on the floorboards as he approached the nest. "Collins, you're burning through the blankets."

"I took the silver-leaf," I muttered, my throat dry as ash. "Who told you to come up the mountain?"

"Mike tracked me down at the rink," Charlotte said, his voice breaking as he sat on the edge of the log frame.

I looked at him, my vision blurred by the heat in my blood. "Don't start, Charlotte."

"I thought my own bond with Natalie Brooks was a mess, Collins, but you're taking the whole mountain down with you," Charlotte sobbed, pressing his face into his fur sleeves. "Why is the ice always like this for our houses? I'm so tired of tracking the winter alone. Every time I think about the next season, my chest hurts because I know Victor Brooks won't be wearing my colors on his jersey."

I forced myself up onto my elbows, my wolf snapping at the weakness in my muscles. "Get up, Charlotte. We don't cry inside the den."

"Stay down, Collins," he whispered, pushing me back into the bear hides. "I'm just a useless southern wolf who can't even handle his own skates. You've always been the strong one. You look after the pups, you run the team, you manage the whole Skydrivee border. I can't even keep my own fire lit."

"I'm not as stable as you think," I whispered, my mind drifting back to the transit platform. I could still feel the way my boots had slipped on the icy stone when Ethan broke the grip on my collar. If the runner had been moving any faster when I ran across the tracks, I wouldn't be lying here with a fever—I'd be frozen under the iron wheels of the midnight express.

Charlotte wiped his eyes and leaned closer. "Why is Ethan taking the Bennett mark, Collins? What did they hold over him?"

"He didn't give me the words," I said, my teeth clicking as the chill hit my shoulders again. "It doesn't matter now. The ice is closed."

"Go back to sleep," Charlotte said, standing up. "I'll go check the lines with the kids."

The room stayed dark, but every time my eyes closed, the sound of the iron gates slamming shut would wake me up. The weight on my ribs wouldn't shift.

In the great hall, Hayden was sitting cross-legged by the hearth, sharpening the steel on his practice skates with a small stone, while Layla sat on a three-legged stool, watching the sparks fly. Neither of them spoke. The usual noise of the den was completely gone.

Charlotte stepped into the light of the fire, breaking the silence before the pups could scent the fear on him. "Your father isn't coming back from the Mysticfall arena, kids."

The children stopped their work immediately, their young eyes turning amber in the shadows.

"Hayden told me before the sun came up, Aunt Charlotte," Layla whispered, her small fingers gripping the edge of her wool tunic. "I'm wiping his scent off my skates. He's a rogue now."

Charlotte pulled her into his lap, smoothing her wild hair. "You still have your brother, Layla. You have the whole Parker line. We don't need the Carter name to survive the freeze."

"I'm angry because he lied about the winter portraits," Layla said, a single tear freezing on her cheek before she could wipe it away. "And he made Papa sick. Papa's wolf is hurting because of him. I won't cry loud... I don't want Papa to hear me through the floorboards."

"Let it out, little wolf," Charlotte whispered, his own chest aching. "That traitor isn't worth the salt in your eyes. He's probably sitting in the luxury box at the Mysticfall arena right now, drinking mulled wine with the Bennett board."

"He used to carry me across the deep drifts," Layla mumbled, her jaw tight. "He told me my skates were the fastest in the province."

"He was good to the whole line until the council offered him the northern contract," Charlotte said. "But the adult game is too dirty for your ears right now. You two just need to keep your steel sharp and let the big wolves handle the borders."

Down in the city rink, Ethan stood by the player's gate, waiting for the ice resurfacer to finish its run. Chloe Bennett stepped out of the shadow of the penalty box, his face covered by a heavy black wool wrap that reached his eyes.

I put down the team roster I was holding and looked straight at him.

Chloe didn't uncover his face. His eyes were small, tight, filled with a sharp defensive anger that hadn't been there before the fire took his family's old lodge.

"Take the wrap off, Chloe," I said, my voice echoing in the empty arena.

He slowly pulled the wool down, revealing the raw, red skin that stretched from his jawline to his left ear. The silver-burn had ruined the clean line of his face, leaving nothing but hard, twisted tissue where his pack mark used to be.

"Do you hate the sight of me, Ethan?" he asked, his voice cracking against the cold glass of the boards.

"I have seen worse on the battlefield, Chloe," I said, my eyes steady as I looked at the scar. "I will sign the papers at midnight. The treaty stands."