Chapter 4: Carter

Chapter

Four

CARTER

T he puck slams into my stick, jarring my arm. I barely manage to deflect it, sending it skittering across the ice. Jayce curses, skating after it with more force than necessary. We're all off our game today, distracted and tense.

I glance at the clock for what feels like the hundredth time. Two hours since the rink opened, and still no sign of Ember. The guys won't admit it, but I know they're as disappointed as I am. We didn't even have to discuss showing up early in case she did.

We all just did it.

"Alright, let's take five," Adder calls out, his voice echoing in the empty rink.

I take off my helmet, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair. "I'm gonna grab some coffee," I mutter, not meeting anyone's eyes. I need a moment away from their restless energy, from the constant reminders of what—who—we're missing.

The breakroom is quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos on the ice. I'm about to head for the ancient coffee maker when I spot Frank, the rink's owner, staring out the window with a furrowed brow.

"Everything okay, Frank?" I ask, moving to stand beside him.

He jumps slightly, then offers me a wan smile. "Oh, Carter. Didn't hear you come in." He gestures to the window, where fat snowflakes are falling in a thick curtain. "It's coming down pretty hard out there. I'm worried about the roads. The wife wants me home for her family dinner, but..."

An idea forms in my mind. "I could close up for you," I offer, surprising myself with how eager I sound. "Doubt anyone else will be coming in this weather anyway."

Frank's face lights up. "You'd do that? You're a lifesaver, son." He fumbles in his pocket, pulling out a ring of keys. "Here's how to work the backup generator if the power goes out..."

I listen carefully as he explains the closing procedures, wondering if I've bitten off a little more than I can chew. When he's done, Frank claps me on the shoulder and hurries out, leaving me alone with the keys.

Back on the ice, I break the news to the guys. Jayce groans dramatically. "Great, now we have to stick around until close, and Ember's clearly not coming."

I bite back a retort, but Adder beats me to it. "We'll give it a bit longer, make sure she's not on her way. If not, we can lock up early. The roads are looking pretty bad."

We return to our drills, but there's a new energy in the air. Every creak of the building, every gust of wind outside has us looking toward the door. An hour passes, then another. Just as we're about to call it quits, the door bursts open.

Ember stumbles in, a flurry of snow following her. She's bundled up in a thick coat, her cheeks flushed from the cold. For a moment, we all freeze, staring at her like she's some kind of apparition.

"What?" she snaps, shaking snow from her hair. "You act like you've never seen a person before."

There's no doubting from her tone she was hoping we'd be gone by now. Unfortunately for her, all our plans have taken a backseat to being her satellites.

Jayce recovers first, flashing her that cocky grin. "Just surprised to see anyone crazy enough to brave this weather for some ice time."

Ember rolls her eyes, shrugging off her coat. "Some of us take our training seriously."

As she steps onto the ice, I can't help but notice her outfit. Gone is the vibrant pink and blue from yesterday. Instead, she's wearing a plain gray leotard and tights combo that seems almost intentionally devoid of color. My stomach twists as I wonder if it's because of Jayce's "Cotton Candy" comment.

Does she think we were making fun of her? There's no way she doesn't know her own omega scent, right?

But it's a hell of a lot more noticeable to us. Like a siren's song that makes it impossible to think about anything else when she's around.

Or when she's not, given the nature of the dreams I had last night.

I want to say something, to reassure her that we meant no offense, but the words stick in my throat. Instead, I watch as she glides to the far end of the rink, pointedly ignoring us as she begins her warm-up routine.

"Well," Adder says quietly, "looks like we're in for an interesting afternoon."

We try to focus on our own practice, but it's impossible not to be aware of Ember's presence. Every graceful spin, every perfectly executed jump draws my eye. She's poetry in motion, her body telling a story that I'm desperate to understand.

An hour passes, then two. The storm outside intensifies, wind howling against the building's walls. I'm just about to suggest we call it a day and try to convince Ember to do the same—even though I'm pretty sure she'd insist on staying just to spite us—when a loud crack echoes through the rink, followed by darkness.

"Shit," Jayce mutters. "Power's out."

I hear Ember's sharp intake of breath from across the ice. "Hello?" she calls out, her voice small and uncertain. "What's going on?"

"It's okay," I say, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. "Just a power outage. I know where the backup generator is."

I make my way carefully to the edge of the rink and shed my skates, fishing the keys from my pocket. "Adder, there are some flashlights in the office. Can you grab them?"

As Adder moves to comply, I turn to Mason. "You should probably make sure there's a wedge in the door so it doesn't get frozen shut."

"On it," he calls, skating over to the other exit.

I'm halfway to the utility room when I realize Ember is following me. I can hear her soft footsteps, smell the faint sweetness of her scent even through the suppressants in the vents.

"You work here part-time or something?" she asks, her voice closer than I expected.

I shake my head, then remember she probably can't see me in the dark. Omegas' senses aren't usually quite as sharp as an alpha's. At least, not when they aren't in heat. "No, the owner had to leave early. Asked me to close up."

"Oh." There's a pause, and I can almost feel the tension radiating off her. "I should probably go, then."

"No!" I say, too quickly. I clear my throat, trying to sound casual. "I mean, the roads are pretty bad out there. It's safer to wait it out here until the storm passes. Or at least until I can get these lights on."

She doesn't respond, but she doesn't leave either. I fumble with the keys, finally finding the right one for the utility room. As I step inside, the beam of a flashlight cuts through the darkness.

"Need a hand?" Adder asks, appearing in the doorway with Ember.

I nod, grateful for the help. "Yeah, thanks. The generator should be over here..."

It takes a few minutes of fumbling and muttered curses, but finally, the generator roars to life. The emergency lights flicker on, bathing the rink in a soft, otherworldly glow.

When we emerge from the utility room, Mason is coming back from the entrance with a somber look on his face. "Too little, too late. Door's already frozen shut. Back one, too."

"Are you serious?" Ember asks, her voice lilting with panic.

"It's okay," I say, resisting the way my hand twitches to reach out and lay on her shoulder. "If it's that bad out, the roads aren't safe anyway. But we've got plenty of power to keep this place warm."

"I'm not scared of the cold," she snaps, folding her arms. "I've got a video interview to do at five and there's no way I'll be able to get decent signal in this place."

She's already got her phone out, holding it up and trying to get more bars.

Adder and I exchange a look of bewilderment. Most omegas would be at least a little shaken by the idea of getting stuck in a snowstorm with four strange alphas, but ours just seems… annoyed.

And she still has no clue she's ours. Pretty sure she'd kick us in the balls—with her skates on—if we tried to tell her at this point.

"Uh… Carter?" Mason calls, lowering his voice as he saunters over to me. "You see what I see?"

I follow his gaze up to the ventilation system overhead and notice the shimmery streamers that are always billowing from the vent grates are limp.

Oh, fuck. The emergency generator must not be connected to the main ventilation system. And why would it be? The whole building is way too big to power on a backup generator, and there'd be no reason to keep more than a few areas warm, since no one would stick around to play in a power outage scenario.

No one except one aggressively determined omega. At least she's presently too distracted with trying to get signal to notice.

But her scent… it's getting stronger. If there was somehow any lingering doubt in our minds that she's our scent match, that would solve it.

We all exchange a look as the unspoken realization passes between us. Ember is our match, we all already knew that—and soon, she's going to know it, too.

"So much for taking things slow," Jayce mutters under his breath. "One of us needs to tell her before she figures it out."

Adder clenches his jaw. "I'm the leader. I'll handle lit."

I start to protest for reasons I'm not fully sure of, but the sound dies out in my chest and I mask it as clearing my throat. I've always been the laid back sort. Never had any particular interest in being in charge on or off the ice. Hell, I play so aggressively, people assume I'm like that in every other aspect of life, too, but I've never had a problem with Adder being our defacto leader. He's good at it. Keeps the others in check and runs the Reapers like a well-oiled machine, but this?

This is the first time I've ever wanted to challenge his authority.

The first time I've ever had reason to.