All Chapters of Mate on thin ice: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

WAKING UP TO RAGE ~MABLE POV~ I woke up choking on the smell of rain and the sound of a flatlining heart. One second, I am flat on my back in the street, headlights blinding me, the taste of blood filling my throat. Next, I am sitting straight up in my dorm bed at Blackridge U, the sheets tangled around my feet like they’re trying to keep me from escaping. Third time. Third fucking time. My heart is trying to punch a hole through my sternum. I press both hands to my chest, gasping, but the pain isn't just in my ribs. It’s lower. A sharp, stabbing cramp in my abdomen that feels like a ghost trying to claw its way back to life. I doubled over, squeezing my stomach. The phantom pain. I shouldn’t feel this. In this life—this "reset"—I am supposed to be eighteen. I am supposed to be "whole." But my body remembers what my mind is trying to process. It remembers the second heartbeat that stopped right along with mine when that car hit me in Life Two. I reached for my backpa

THE LIE THAT BINDS ~MABLE POV~ The door swings open, and there he is. No shirt. Just low-slung gray sweats hanging off his hips like they’re barely trying. Black hair still wet from a shower, falling into those stupid, piercing ice-blue eyes. He’s bigger up close—taller, broader, the kind of build that makes you feel small even when you’re not. But as my eyes scan the hard lines of his abs, that phantom ache in my lower stomach flares up again. It’s a sharp, stabbing heat, a physical memory of the heartbeat I lost in Life Two. My hand instinctively twitches toward my stomach before I force it to my side. I swallow. Hard. “Hi,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’m Mable. The… escort? Except I’m not. I mean, I’m not here for that. Obviously.” He doesn’t move. He just leans one shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed over a chest that looks like it was carved from granite. He’s watching me with an intensity that feels like he’s trying to read my DNA. “Obvio

FIRST FAKE SPARK ~MABLE POV~ The campus cafe is packed—Friday afternoon crowd, hockey guys laughing too loud, the smell of burnt espresso and wet jackets hanging thick in the air. I get there early, hoodie up, nursing a black coffee that’s gone cold. My stomach is in knots, but it’s not just nerves. It’s the phantom ache. It’s been a slow, pulsing burn ever since I woke up in this life. Every time I think about the ceremony, or Aiden, or the ultrasound glitch tucked in my bag, it stabs at me. A reminder that I’m playing for more than just my own pride. Darin walks in at exactly 7:02. He doesn't just enter a room; he commands it. Hood up, dark jeans, a black hoodie that makes his shoulders look like they could hold up the ceiling. Heads turn. Phones lift. He doesn’t notice—or he’s lived through enough lives to stop caring. His eyes find me in the corner booth instantly, like he’s got a radar tuned to my specific frequency. He slides in across from me without asking. “