Page 6 of Knot Sharing the Ice

They grumble but comply. As we start to move, I can't help but think about Ember. Her grace on the ice, the fire in her eyes when she argued with us, the way she smelled like home and desire all at once.

I've never believed in fate or destiny.

But finding our match here, now?

It can’t just be coincidence.

And I'll be damned if I let this opportunity slip away.

Chapter

Three

EMBER

The crisp night air nips at my cheeks as I huddle closer to the fire, pulling my oversized sweater tighter around me. The crackling flames cast a warm glow over the faces of my family, scattered around the yard in various states of holiday cheer. My niece and nephew dart past, squealing with laughter as they chase their cousins through the maze of lawn chairs and coolers.

I can't help but smile, even as a twinge of longing and envy tugs at my chest. This is what I left behind when I moved to Sterling City to pursue my dreams. The warmth, the chaos, the sense of belonging.

But it's also what I escaped.

The suffocating expectations and the constant pressure to settle down, find a pack, start a family.

"So, how was practice?" Taylor asks, nudging me with her shoulder. She's bundled up next to me on the old porch swing, a mug of mulled cider warming her hands.

I shrug, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Uneventful. Except for some assholes who intruded on my space."

Taylor's eyebrows shoot up. "Intruded how? At the rink?"

I nod, feeling the frustration from earlier bubbling up again. "Yeah. Apparently, the manager double-booked. I showed up for my reserved time, and there were these four guys there, claiming they had it booked too."

"Oh no," Taylor says, but there's a hint of amusement in her voice that makes me narrow my eyes. "That sounds like an honest mistake, though. Were they at least hot assholes?"

I can't help the flush that creeps up my neck, and I blame it on the fire. "That's not the point," I mutter.

Taylor's eyes light up. "Oh my god, they were! Spill, Em. What did they look like? Were they alphas?"

I groan, already regretting ever bringing it up. "Yes, they were alphas. And yes, fine, they were attractive. But that just makes them worse."

"How so?" Taylor asks, leaning in with interest.

"Because..." I struggle to find the right words. "Because they know they're hot, and they use it. All smirks and cocky attitudes and stupid nicknames."

"Nicknames?" Taylor's grin widens. "They gave you a nickname already?"

I feel my face heat up even more. "It's not—look, it doesn't matter. The point is, I have no interest in alphas right now, especially not a whole pack of them."

Taylor's eyes widen. "Wait, they're a pack? Em, that's?—"

"Don't," I cut her off. "Don't start. I know what you're thinking, and it's not happening. I'm not interested in a relationship, let alone with multiple alphas who probably think figure skating is just twirling around in sparkly outfits."

Taylor opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, our mom appears, balancing a tray of steaming mugs.

"Hot cocoa for my girls," she says, her smile warm and inviting. "What are you two whispering about over here?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, shooting Taylor a warning glance. The last thing I need is to unleash Mom's not-so-subtle desire for me to "pack up" again. She means well, but she just doesn't understand that not everyone wants the same things she has.

"Just catching up," Taylor adds smoothly, accepting a mug with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Mom."

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