Chapter 17: Ember

Chapter

Seventeen

EMBER

" W ould you like some more wine, Mason?" Mom asks, reaching for the bottle of her famous mulled wine.

"Yes, please," Mason says, flashing her one of those heart-melting smiles that made me weak in the knees when we first met. "This is delicious, Mrs. Westbrook. You'll have to share the recipe."

Mom beams, clearly smitten. "Oh, please. Call me Linda. And of course! I'd be happy to write it down for you."

I take a sip of my own wine to hide my smile. Mason's already charmed the recipe for her secret spice cookies out of her, and we've only been here an hour. At this rate, he'll have her entire recipe box memorized by dessert.

The dining room is warm and cozy, filled with the scents of Christmas dinner and pine from the garland Mom draped over every available surface. Normally, I find the decorations a bit much, but tonight they provide perfect cover for the mingled alpha scents that would otherwise give us away.

"So, boys," Dad says, carving another slice of turkey. "How long have you known our Ember?"

I nearly choke on my wine.

"We met at the rink," Carter answers smoothly, saving me from having to explain. "About a week ago."

Taylor catches my eye across the table and smirks. She's the only one who knows the truth, and she's been having way too much fun watching me squirm all evening.

"Only a week?" Mom asks, her eyebrows rising. "You all seem so... comfortable with each other."

"We just clicked," Jayce says with a grin that makes my stomach flip. "Right, Cotton Candy?"

I kick him under the table. Hard.

"Cotton Candy?" Dad echoes, looking confused.

"Because of her skating outfit," Adder explains quickly. "Pink and blue, you know?"

Mom's eyes light up. "Oh, that's adorable! You know, she's been wearing those colors since she was little. There's this photo?—"

"Mom, no," I groan, knowing exactly where this is going.

"—of her first recital. She insisted on wearing this tutu that was half pink, half blue. Said it couldn't be just one color because that wouldn't be fair to the other."

The guys are all grinning now, and I want to sink through the floor.

"I was five," I mutter.

"You were precious," Mom corrects. "Oh! I think I have that album right here..."

"Who wants more potatoes?" I ask loudly, desperate to change the subject.

"I'd love to see those photos," Mason says, ignoring my attempt at distraction. "I bet Ember was an adorable kid."

"The cutest," Taylor chimes in, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Wait until you see her gap-toothed phase."

I glare at her. Traitor .

As Mom pulls out the dreaded photo album, I feel a warm hand squeeze my knee under the table. I look up to find Carter watching me with soft eyes.

"You okay?" he mouths.

I nod, some of my tension easing. It's hard to stay annoyed when he looks at me like that.

"Oh my god," Jayce's voice pulls my attention back to the album. "Is that Ember in a chicken costume?"

"Spring pageant, third grade," Dad supplies helpfully. "She was supposed to be a swan, but there was a mix-up with the costumes."

"I worked it," I say defensively. "That chicken had grace ."

The laughter that follows is warm and genuine, and I find myself relaxing despite myself. This isn't so bad. My family loves them, and the guys are being perfect gentlemen.

Well, mostly.

The conversation drifts to safer topics—the guys' hockey careers, which Dad knows unsurprisingly little about. My upcoming competition, which Mom knows every detail of. And Taylor's new bakery, which has Mason practically salivating.

I start to relax again, letting the warm atmosphere and good food work their magic.

This is nice.

Normal.

Almost like we're just a regular group of family and friends having dinner and I'm not an omega who got railed to the brink of splitting open on the four guest alphas' cocks.

"So, tell me more about playing for the Reapers," Taylor says, leaning forward with interest as if she can read my mind. "You guys have been crushing the Wolves this season."

Adder grins. "The chemistry on the ice just clicks."

"Chemistry is important," Taylor says with a pointed look at me that makes me want to crawl under the table. "Though I have to admit, I was shocked when I realized who you all were. The way Em talks about hockey, you'd think it was just guys smashing into each other on ice."

"That's exactly what it is," I mutter into my wine glass, my cheeks heating up at her candidness. I should probably tell her I've evolved a bit on that, but at the same time, suddenly gushing about hockey would definitely get some unwanted attention.

"Hey now," Mason protests good-naturedly, rescuing me. "There's strategy involved. Finesse, even."

The guys laugh, but I notice the way their eyes light up. They're in their element now, talking about the sport they love. It's... kind of endearing, actually.

"It's more than that," Adder says, his voice taking on that authoritative tone he uses on the ice. "Each player has a specific role, and we have to work together seamlessly. Like a well-oiled machine."

"Or a pack," Jayce adds with a wink in my direction.

I feel my cheeks heat up and kick him under the table again. Subtlety is clearly not his strong suit.

"That's fascinating," Dad says, and I'm surprised to hear genuine interest in his voice. "So it's almost like a chess game on ice?"

Mason grins. "Exactly. Except the pieces are two-hundred-pound men on skates moving at twenty miles an hour."

"And the pawns are your teeth," I mutter, but I can't keep the smile off my face.

But the truth is, listening to them talk about hockey with such passion is... doing things to me. I've always been attracted to drive, to ambition. It's part of what drew me to figure skating in the first place.

And seeing that same fire in their eyes as they discuss plays and strategies...

Well, let's just say it's a good thing the table cloth is hiding the way my thighs are pressed together.

"What about you, Ember?" Carter asks, his dark eyes finding mine across the table. "What's your favorite part of figure skating?"

The question catches me off guard. I'm used to people asking about the technical aspects, about scoring and competitions. But the way Carter phrases it, like he genuinely wants to know what I love about it...

"The moment right before a jump," I say before I can stop myself. "When you're gathering speed, and everything narrows down to that single point of focus. It's like the whole world disappears, and for just a second, you're suspended in time."

The room falls quiet, and I realize everyone is staring at me. I duck my head, embarrassed by my sudden burst of eloquence.

"That's beautiful, Em," Mom says softly.

I risk a glance up and find four pairs of alpha eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. There's understanding there, recognition of that feeling I've just described.

"It's the same for us," Adder says, his voice low and intimate. "That moment before a big play. When everything else fades away and it's just you and the ice."

I nod, unable to look away from him. "Exactly."

The air between us feels charged, heavy with unspoken words and shared experiences. For a moment, I forget we're sitting at my parents' dining room table. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss him, to feel that connection again.

"So, um," I clear my throat, desperate to break the tension before I do something stupid like climb into Adder's lap in front of my entire family. "What's the hardest part of playing professionally?"

It's a lame question, but it does the trick. The guys launch into a discussion about grueling practice schedules and the challenges of staying in peak physical condition. I let their voices wash over me, only half-listening as I try to get my racing heart under control.

I catch Taylor's eye at one point and she winks at me. I know what she's doing. Getting to know them, making them feel welcome.

I owe her a big hug for it.

As dinner winds down and Mom starts clearing plates for dessert, I excuse myself to help her in the kitchen. I need a minute to breathe, to collect myself.

"They're lovely boys," Mom says as she pulls the apple pie from the warming drawer. "Especially that Mason. Such good manners."

I smile innocently, thinking of all the decidedly unmannerly things Mason did to me during the snowstorm. "Yeah, he's... nice."

"And they clearly care about you," she continues, giving me a knowing look. "I haven't seen you this happy in ages."

My chest tightens.

"Mom—" I start, but she waves me off.

"You don't have to explain anything, sweetheart. Just know that whatever makes you smile like that? I'm all for it."

I blink back sudden tears. Even if she doesn't know the whole truth, her support means everything.

When we return to the dining room, I find the guys deep in conversation with Dad about his latest research project. He's gesturing animatedly, explaining something about geological formations, and they're actually paying attention.

My heart swells at the sight.

"Who's ready for pie?" Mom announces, and the conversation pauses as everyone enthusiastically accepts.

As she serves the slices, I notice Adder watching me with that intense look that usually precedes him pushing me up against a wall. I shake my head slightly, and he grins, turning his attention back to his pie.

"This is amazing, Linda," Carter says after his first bite. "Would you mind sharing this recipe too?"

Mom practically glows. "Of course! Though you'll have to come back for the secret ingredient. Family tradition, you understand."

"We'd love to," Adder says, his voice warm. "Wouldn't we, guys?"

They all nod enthusiastically, and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling too widely. They're already planning to come back, already thinking long-term.

It makes my heart do funny things in my chest.

"Well, you're welcome anytime," Dad says, and I can tell he means it. "Any friends of Ember's are family to us."

If you only knew , I think, watching as the alphas beam at my father.

Jayce looks like he wants to say something that would result in me shoving more pie down his throat to keep his mouth shut, but whatever has his eyes glinting with mischief, he keeps to himself.

As the evening winds down and we say our goodbyes, I find myself feeling lighter than I have in ages. Despite my worries, and despite Jayce's near-slips—which I'm starting to think he's doing on purpose, just to keep me on my toes—this is the best Christmas dinner I've ever had.

Having them here, watching them interact with my family, seeing them fit so seamlessly into my world.

It feels right.

Like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.

And maybe soon, I'll figure out exactly what that means to me. And then, maybe I'll be ready to tell everyone exactly how well they fit.

But for now, this is enough.

This is perfect.