Page 10 of Knot Sharing the Ice

Not when I've finally managed to land an interview with Axel magazine after months of pestering their editor.

I even missed family dinner for this phone call, and I’m still feeling guilty about that. I'd tried to explain how important this was, how it could open doors for my career, but Mom’s disappointed sigh still echoes in my ears.

And now? Now I might miss it anyway, trapped in this godforsaken ice rink with four alphas who seem hellbent on driving me insane.

Great. Just fuckinggreat.

I manage to get enough of a signal to fire off a quick text to Taylor.

Stuck at rink. Power out. Doors frozen. FML.

Her response comes faster than I expected.

OMG, are you ok? Want me to send Matt with the neighbor's snow plow?

I snort, imagining myself clinging to the back of a snow plow for a five-mile ride through a blizzard.

Hell no. Only thing worse than being stuck here with those assholes is riding home on a snow plow.

Wait. That pack is still there?

I glance over at the four of them, huddled together and speaking in low voices. They keep shooting looks my way, probably annoyed that I'm hogging the only spot with a hint of cell service.

Unfortunately.

Worried?

Am I? I should be, shouldn't I? Four strange alphas, one omega, trapped in an isolated building during a snowstorm. It's like the setup for every bad horror movie ever made.

But...

Oddly, no. They're annoying af, but I don't think they're bad guys. Just dicks.

If you're sure. Try to stay in touch if you can. Love you.

I'm about to reply when I notice Adder—Thirteen, I remind myself—approaching. There's something off about his expression, a nervousness that seems at odds with his usual cocky demeanor.

"Hey," he says, running a hand through his hair. "So, looks like we're pretty stuck here. The guys are gathering some supplies, and we should probably stick close to the breakroom where it's warm?—"

I cut him off, a strange scent suddenly filling my nostrils. "Do you smell that?"

He blinks, thrown off guard. "Smell what?"

"It's like..." I inhale deeply, trying to place it. "Like someone just cracked open a bottle of vintage Crimson Mark bourbon and a pine air freshener. Like, areallygood one."

Adder's eyebrows shoot up, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Youdrink Crimson Mark?"

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I retort, but I find myself moving closer, drawn by the intoxicating aroma.

It's stronger now, richer.

And it's definitely coming from him.

Oh god.

"Are you... smelling me?" Adder asks, a mix of bewilderment and something else—hope?—in his voice.

"What? No, I—" But the denial dies on my lips as I realize with dawning horror that I am. I'm smelling an alpha. And not just any alpha. One that smells like the best thing I've ever encountered in my life.

---