Page 44 of Knot Sharing the Ice

Which, in this small town during the holidays, is approximately every five seconds.

And the After Heat pill's side effects aren't helping.

But it was kind of a necessity after spending so long locked up with a pack. I'm still processing the fact that I have four alphas.I amsonot ready to be a mom. The fact that the guys offered to go pick it up for me was admittedly a point earned in their favor.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I have to physically stop myself from reaching for it. I know who it is without looking. It's been three days of texts so evenly spaced out, I'm pretty sure they coordinated exactly how much they could text without overwhelming me. Each one sends a jolt of electricity through my body that has nothing to do with my data plan and everything to do with the four alphas who've turned my world upside down.

"Oh, before I forget," Mom says, pulling me from my thoughts. "I ran into Carter Thomas at the grocery store this morning. Such a nice boy. Did you know he and his friends are staying in town for the whole holiday season? Isn't that lovely?"

I nearly choke on the candy cane I've been absently sucking on. "Oh?" I manage, my voice an octave higher than usual. "That's... nice."

Thomas.

It hits me that I didn't even know his last name before.

Mom hums in agreement, a dreamy look in her eye that makes me want to crawl under the table and hide. "It is, isn't it? He's been here before, of course, but he usually just drops in to see his mother for a day or two and goes back to the city. It's so rare for successful young alphas like that to take such an interest in their hometown. I wonder what could be keeping them here?"

Before I can stammer out a response, the back door bursts open, and Taylor breezes in, her arms laden with shopping bags. "You willnotbelieve who I just saw at the Christmas tree lot," she announces, kicking off her boots.

My stomach drops. Please, not again.

"Let me guess," I mutter. "Tall, dark, and hockey?"

Taylor's eyebrows shoot up. "How did you know?"

"I need some air," I blurt out, already heading for the door. "I'm gonna take a walk."

I ignore their confused calls as I shove my feet into my boots and grab my coat. The crisp winter air hits me like a slap to the face as I step outside, and I take a deep, steadying breath. The scent of pine and snow fills my lungs, but underneath it all, I can still detect those four distinct scents that have been haunting me for days.

They didn't mark me.

Not even close.

But I still feel them on me, like a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders. And I'm not sure I want that to change, either.

As I walk down the snow-covered sidewalk, my mind drifts back to that night in the rink. The heat of their bodies, the tenderness in their touches, the way they looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world... It's all seared into my memory, a constant replay that makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

I've never been so conflicted in my life.

Part of me wants to run straight into their arms, to let myself fall headfirst into this... whatever it is. But the rational part of my brain, the part that's been hurt before, that's worked so hard to build a life on my own terms, is screaming at me to be careful.

They're too good to be true.

They have to be.

Don't they?

A gust of wind carries a familiar scent, and I freeze mid-step. Wood smoke. Mason. My heart starts racing, and I look around wildly, half expecting to see him materialize out of thin air.

Instead, I spot him across the street, coming out of the hardware store with an armful of Christmas lights. He hasn'tnoticed me yet, and for a moment, I consider ducking into the nearest shop to avoid him.

But then he looks up, and our eyes lock.

The world narrows to just us, the bustle of holiday shoppers fading into background noise. Mason's face lights up with a smile that makes my knees weak, and before I can talk myself out of it, I'm crossing the street toward him.

"Hey," he says softly when I reach him, his voice sending a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

"Hi," I breathe, suddenly at a loss for words. Up close, his scent is overwhelming, bringing back vivid memories of his hands on my skin, his lips on mine.

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