Chapter 19: Carter

Chapter

Nineteen

CARTER

T he crisp winter air nips at my cheeks as I scan the crowded town square, my eyes searching for a familiar face. The festive atmosphere buzzes around us—carols drifting from hidden speakers, the scent of cinnamon and sugar wafting from nearby food stalls, children's laughter mingling with the general hum of conversation.

It's a scene I've witnessed countless times before.

But this year, everything feels... different.

"You sure she said she'd meet us here?" Jayce asks, scanning the crowd impatiently.

I nod, trying to quell the nervous energy thrumming through my veins. "Yeah, this is the spot."

My gaze drifts over the familiar landmarks of my hometown—the old clock tower, the quaint storefronts decked out in twinkling lights and garlands. I've walked these streets more times than I can count, but never has it felt quite like this. There's an anticipation in the air, a sense of possibility that makes everything seem brighter, more vivid.

We usually alternate where we spend the bulk of the holidays, making sure to hit up each of our hometowns in turn. And I always spend at least a day or two with my mom regardless. But this year, when I suggested we come here for the whole shebang, no one argued.

And now I know why.

The universe—or fate, or whatever you want to call it—had plans for us here.

"I've got to hand it to you, man," Jayce says, clapping me on the shoulder. "You hit the hometown lottery. Who knew this little slice of Americana was hiding our scent match?"

I can't help but laugh, the sound carrying on the frosty air. "Trust me, if I'd known Ember was here all this time, I would've dragged you guys back a lot sooner."

"Speaking of our girl," Mason says, his voice low and reverent, "there she is."

My head snaps up, following his gaze, and suddenly, the rest of the world fades away. Ember's walking toward us, bundled up in a cozy ensemble of pink and blue—the same colors she wore the day we met her. The sight of her steals the breath from my lungs, just like it did that first day at the rink.

She spots us and a smile blooms on her face, bright enough to rival the twinkling lights surrounding us. As she gets closer, I notice something different about her. There's a relaxed set to her shoulders, a softness in her eyes that wasn't there before.

It makes my heart race with hope.

Hope that doesn't feel quite as dangerous now.

"Hey," she says as she reaches us, a little breathless. "Sorry I'm late. Mom wouldn't let me leave without forcing about a dozen cookies on me to bring along."

"No complaints here if they're half as good as her pumpkin pie," Jayce grins, already eyeing the paper bag in her hands.

Ember rolls her eyes, but there's fondness in the gesture. She looks at each of us in turn, her gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary. "So, what's the plan? What do you all want to do first?"

We exchange a brief look that makes it clear the immediate answer in all our minds is, "You."

But we're gentlemen, dammit.

Or at least trying to be.

"Well," I say, offering her my arm without thinking, "we've got to start with the classics. Hot chocolate, gingerbread decorating, and of course, the ridiculously overpriced carnival games."

To my surprise and delight, Ember loops her arm through mine without hesitation. "Lead the way," she says, and I swear I can feel the warmth of her even through our layers of winter clothing.

We make our way through the festival, stopping at various booths and attractions. At the gingerbread station, Jayce creates what he claims is a "postmodern interpretation" of a gingerbread house, but it looks more like a frosting explosion. Ember laughs so hard she snorts, then immediately claps a hand over her mouth, looking mortified.

The sound is so endearing, so purely her .

Of course we can't help but join in.

As we wander, I find myself hyper-aware of every little interaction. The way Ember leans into me when we stop to listen to a group of carolers. How her eyes light up when she spots the ice sculpture display. The little gasp she lets out when we round a corner and come face to face with a massive Christmas tree in a long line of displays the townsfolk have entered into the annual competition, its lights reflecting in her wide eyes.

"It's beautiful," she breathes, but I can't help but think she's far more captivating than any tree.

We're passing a row of carnival games when Adder suddenly stops short. "Hey Em," he says, a mischievous glint in his eye, "see anything you like?"

Ember follows his gaze to a display of oversized stuffed animals hanging from one of the booths. Her eyes land on a fluffy pink-and-blue unicorn, and I see a flash of childlike wonder cross her face before she schools her expression.

"Oh, um, they're cute," she says, trying for nonchalance. "But those games are always rigged."

Jayce and Adder exchange a look, and I know exactly what's about to happen. Sure enough, Jayce puffs out his chest and declares, "Challenge accepted. Prepare to be impressed, Cotton Candy."

What follows is nothing short of ridiculous. Jayce and Adder take turns trying to best the clearly rigged games, their competitive streaks on full display. Ember watches with a mix of amusement and embarrassment, but I can see the pleased flush on her cheeks.

After several failed attempts and enough money to pay for the entire fair, Adder finally manages to knock down all the milk bottles. The look of triumph on his face as he presents Ember with the unicorn is priceless.

"Shit," Jayce grumbles half-heartedly. "Well, I loosened it up for you."

"Your valiant knights have slain the carnival dragon and rescued the noble steed," Adder teases with an exaggerated bow.

Ember accepts the stuffed animal, hugging it to her chest. "My heroes," she says dryly, but there's no mistaking the genuine happiness in her eyes. "How can I ever repay you?"

"Well," Jayce starts, a suggestive tone in his voice, but Mason elbows him before he can finish the thought.

To all our surprise, she leans up and pecks Adder on the lips, then does the same with Jayce. It's a shock, considering we were under the impression she didn't even want her family to know about us.

But maybe she's loosening up a little to the idea of being ours. And as far as I'm concerned, the whole world can know we're hers.

I know my packmates feel the same way.

As we continue our stroll, Ember's free hand finds mine, her fingers intertwining with my own. The gesture is so natural, so right, that it takes my breath away. I look down at her, and find her already gazing up at me, a soft smile playing at her lips.

In that moment, surrounded by the sights and sounds of Christmas, with our pack beside us and Ember's hand in mine, I'm struck by an overwhelming sense of belonging.

This—right here, right now—is exactly where I'm meant to be.

"Thank you," Ember says softly, her words nearly lost in the bustle around us. "For... all of this. For being patient with me. For not giving up."

I squeeze her hand gently.

I wish I could just pull her close and never let go.

But for now, this is enough.

This is everything.

"Always," I murmur back, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. "We're not going anywhere, Ember. Not unless you want us to."

She looks at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. Then, rising up on her tiptoes, she presses a soft kiss to my cheek. "Good," she whispers against my skin. "Because I think... I think I want you to stay. And I don't know how that's going to look when we all have to go back to our worlds, but… I know that, at least."

I give her hand a tighter squeeze. "We'll figure it out," I promise. "One step at a time."

I'm still reeling from the feel of Ember's lips on my cheek when Jayce's excited voice cuts through my daze.

"Holy shit, guys! Check it out—they've set up an ice rink on the pond!"

I follow his gaze, and sure enough, there's a makeshift rink complete with twinkling lights and a temporary barrier. My heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing Ember on the ice again, even if it's not the professional rink we're used to.

"We should have a friendly competition," Jayce suggests, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Ember laughs, the sound like music to my ears. "You guys gluttons for punishment or something?"

"Come on, Cotton Candy," Jayce wheedles. "It'll be fun!"

I watch as Ember's eyes light up with a competitive spark. "Alright," she says, a slow grin spreading across her face. "But fair's fair. You taught me hockey, so I get to teach you figure skating."

The image of us—four hulking hockey players—attempting delicate spins and jumps is so absurd that I can't help but laugh. "Deal," I say, squeezing her hand. "But don't expect any triple axels from me."

We make our way to the rental booth, and I can't help but notice how natural it feels to have Ember by my side. As we lace up our skates, I steal glances at her, marveling at how she's transformed from the guarded ice queen—pun intended—we met at the rink to this playful, open version of herself.

The moment we step onto the ice, it's clear that we're out of our element. Ember glides effortlessly, while the rest of us lumber around like newborn colts. I've never felt so ungainly in my life, and judging by the looks on Adder and Mason's faces, they're feeling the same way.

Jayce, surprisingly, seems to be taking to it better than the rest of us. He manages an almost graceful spin that has Ember clapping her hands in delight.

"Well, well," she teases, skating circles around us. "Looks like someone's been holding out on us. Got a secret figure skating past you want to share with the class, Jayce?"

He grins, executing an exaggerated bow that nearly sends him sprawling. "What can I say? I'm a man of many talents."

"Yeah, yeah," Mason grumbles good-naturedly. "Don't let it go to your head."

As we continue our impromptu lesson, I find myself mesmerized by Ember. She's in her element here, graceful and confident as she demonstrates simple moves for us to try. Even bundled up in her winter coat, she moves with a fluid elegance that takes my breath away.

I'm so caught up in watching her that I almost miss the panicked shout from behind me. I turn just in time to see a young skater, clearly new to the ice, careening toward Ember with a look of sheer terror on his face.

Without thinking, I lunge forward, wrapping an arm around Ember's waist and spinning us both out of the way. The momentum carries us to the edge of the rink, and I find myself pressing Ember against the temporary wall, my body flush against hers.

Time seems to stand still as I look down at her, our faces mere inches apart. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold and exertion, her eyes wide and sparkling. I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine, and the scent of her—cotton candy and warmth —envelops me.

"You okay?" I manage to ask, my voice rough.

She nods, her gaze flicking to my lips. "My hero," she murmurs, and before I can process what's happening, she's rising up on her toes and pressing her lips to mine.

The kiss is soft and sweet, but it ignites a fire in my veins. I cup her face in my hands, deepening the kiss as she melts against me. For a moment, the rest of the world fades away, and it's just us.

Ember and Carter.

Two pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, I'm vaguely aware of cheers and wolf whistles from our packmates. Ember buries her face in my chest, but I can feel her smiling against me.

"Well," Adder's amused voice cuts through our bubble, "I'd say that's worth at least a six-point-oh for artistic impression."

Ember laughs, the sound muffled against my coat, and I can't help but join in. As we disentangle ourselves and rejoin the others, I keep my arm around her waist, unwilling to let her go completely.

The rest of our time on the ice passes in a blur of laughter and our clumsy attempts at figure skating moves. By the time we hear the announcement for the Christmas tree lighting, we're all red-faced and breathless, but happier than I can remember being in a long time.

We make our way to the town square, where a massive Christmas tree towers over the crowd. As we find a spot to watch, Ember naturally gravitates to the center of our group, and we close ranks around her. It's instinctive, this need to protect and surround our omega, and I'm struck by how right it feels.

The countdown begins, and I feel Ember's excitement building. She reaches out, grabbing my hand and Mason's, linking us all together. As the tree bursts into life, a dazzling display of twinkling lights and shimmering ornaments, I look down at Ember.

The joy on her face, illuminated by the soft glow of the Christmas lights, is more beautiful than any tree. I watch as she turns, sharing her delight with each of us in turn, and I'm overwhelmed by a sense of rightness. This is where we belong.

All of us, together.

As a pack.

As the crowd begins to disperse, none of us make a move to leave. We stand there, Ember pressed between us, basking in the warmth of each other's presence and the magic of the moment.

"This is nice," Ember says softly, her voice barely audible over the general hubbub. "Being here with all of you... it feels right."

I tighten my arm around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It does," I agree. "Like coming home."

And as we stand there, surrounded by the sights and sounds of Christmas, I can't help but feel that we've been given a gift far more precious than anything under a tree.

We've been given a chance at something real.

Something lasting.

And I know we're going to make this work.

Whatever it takes.