Where The Ice Gives Way (Charlotte and Blake) novel Chapter 183

Chapter 183 An Act Of War

Blake

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Marcus fucking Simmons is the Mark Emily told Charlotte about. No one put the fucking dots together. Not one of us had even thought to ask her which pack she came from, and that is on us. On me. On Dad. On all of us who listened to her talk about being rejected, exiled, and left to rot, and somehow never asked for the name of the pack that did it. Now that pack is right in front of me. The mate that rejected her is pinned beneath my father in the snow, half–feral and snarling through yellowed eyes, while Alpha Thomas Simmons stands there with his hands lifted like any of this deserves mercy.

Theo looks at me once, and I already know. Every instinct in me understands what Theo is asking without a single word passing between us. I reach into my pocket, pull out my keys, and throw them. Marcus’s wolf thrashes beneath Dad as Theo takes Emily away from what she does not need to see. He bucks hard, paws tearing trenches through the snow, jaws snapping at the air. Dad pins him harder, teeth bared against his throat, but the bastard keeps pushing, keeps twisting, keeps looking toward the truck, and my blood goes cold. Charlotte shifts beside me, white fur folding back into skin and snow–damp hair. She stands barefoot in the slush beside the road, one of the patrol throwing a blanket over her shoulders before I can reach for my jacket. Her eyes stay locked on Marcus.

“Blake,” she says quietly,

I step in front of her before she can move any closer. “No, Lotty. You are not touching him.”

Alpha Thomas takes one step forward, and Dad growls, making every wolf and human around us still.

“Alpha Atlas,” Thomas says, voice strained. “Please. He is my son.”

Dad presses Marcus’s head deeper into the snow, his claws flexing through grey fur.

“You should have handled your son before he charged our people,” I tell him.

Thomas swallows, looking from Dad to me, then to Charlotte. His eyes linger on her for half a second too long, making me want to take his eyes. I take a step forward, and Lex rises inside me with a force that makes my skin feel too tight. “Shift!” I command.

Marcus locks. His yellow eyes snap to mine. “Shift,” I say again, pushing more into it this time. “Now.”

I see the war move through his body. The wolf wants blood. The man buried somewhere inside him wants control. Bone shifts under fur, then slips back. His claws scrape against the snow as a part–growl, part–human–pain sound tears from his throat. Dad holds him down while the shift rolls through him badly. His fur pulls back in uneven patches, and his limbs crack and bend while his body jerks.

I hold the command until Marcus Simmons is naked and shaking in the snow beneath my father, chest heaving, skin streaked with dirt and blood, eyes still too much yellow. His breathing comes in rough pulls, and when his gaze swings toward the road where Theo took Emily, his lip curls. “Look at her direction again, and I will let my father finish what he started.” I say.

“Alpha Atlas, your son cannot threaten mine.” Alpha Thomas says with some nerve. Dad shifts in one violent ripple, rising to his feet in human form, snow clinging to his bare skin as one of our men tosses him clothes. His eyes stay black with his alpha wolf. “My son can do

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Chapter 183 An Act Of War

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whatever he needs to do to protect our pack member from the male who destroyed her.”

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Charlotte comes to stand beside me, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, chin lifted despite the cold biting at her bare legs. She narrows her eyes at him, and I watch as that alone makes him shrink backwards. Thomas turns toward her carefully. “There are things you

do not understand.”

Her mouth parts, and a hollow laugh slips out. “No. I understand just fine. Your son rejected her, and you exiled her. We were the ones

who picked up the pieces and put them back together.”

“Where is she?” Marcus says, shuddering in the snow as he attempts to stand on shaking legs. My head turns slowly toward him. “What

did you say?”

His eyes flash. “Emily. Where is she? Where is my mate?!”

Lex slams forward so hard my teeth ache, but Charlotte’s hand catches my wrist before I take another step forward. “Don’t,” she murmurs,

only for me.

Thomas steps in quickly. “Marcus has been unwell since the rejection.”

“The rejection,” I repeat.

Thomas lifts both hands slightly. “It was a complicated matter.”

“No,” Charlotte says, voice soft enough that the whole road seems to quiet around her. “It was Emily’s life.”

Thomas’s eyes flick toward her, then away as he runs a hand through his hair and clicks to one of his patrol. “Give Marcus your jacket.”

He all but spits out, and that tells me all I need to know about how he treats his people. Marcus takes the jacket someone offers him, and

then growls and bares his teeth, forcing the man to stumble back. Thomas steps in quickly, taking the jacket and helping his son into it,

while whispering words I can not hear. I look at Marcus, the yellow in his eyes, the twitch in his neck, the way his claws come and go

quickly. He’s fighting for control, fighting his wolf. “Your son is going rogue,” I say, and Thomas looks up at me with a long sigh.

“Yes. This is not how I had hoped our meeting today would go. But yes. Marcus is losing himself, and I need the white wolf’s help.” He

turns to Charlotte, but I’m already stepping in front of her. “Her name is Charlotte. And you have deceived us.”

I look over to Dad, who stands with his arms crossed, watching and waiting for me to take the lead here. “Restrain him,” I ask Bennett,

thankful our lead patrol is with us.

“Wait! You can’t do that!”

Lex growls, and I take a step forward into Thomas’s space. He’s smaller than me, though most people are now. Thomas carries himself like

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