Page 95 of Fanged Embrace

“You’ve got extra space up here now—even if you aren’t aware of it.” River paused in the doorway and whipped around while she tapped her temple. “So we’re going to make some better memories.”

“Okay, sure,” I deadpanned at her enthusiastic expression. “Butwhereare we going?”

Ice rink.

Of all the places River could’ve dragged me on a brisk Tuesday morning, she chose a giant frozen puddle encircled by fairy lights and booming, overly enthusiastic pop music. Children zipped past like caffeinated gremlins while I clung to the railing, hobbling on shaky legs, convinced my ankles were going to break.

River, meanwhile, glided by like she’d been born on skates—hands tucked behind her back, posture perfect, dimples flashing each time she lapped me.Show-off.

“Come on,” she sang as she drifted past for the third humiliating circuit. “It’s not that hard—just keep your knees bent.”

I considered vaulting over the railing instead and getting far away from this stupid, slippery nightmare rink before I could fall flat on my face.

“It’s not that simple,” I growled instead, executing a rather impressive iteration of an Irish jig in my attempts to stay upright.

“All right, then. Baby steps.” River slowed, pivoted effortlessly in front of me, and extended both hands. “Trust me?”

I looked at her outstretched palms, then up at her face. The fairy lights reflected in her eyes like tiny galaxies. Tentatively, I took her hands.

River pulled gently, guiding me away from the railing, and my legs did their best wet-noodle impression; I wobbled, cursed, and nearly fell over. Then repeated that process about ten more times.

“You’re doing great!” River righted my every stumble and tugged us closer to the center of the rink.

“Stop twirling,” I snapped when she spun us too quickly.

“That was a one-eighty, not a twirl.” She sighed like it should have been obvious.

I muttered something anatomically improbable, but River just grinned and skated backward like it was the easiest thing in the world, tugging me along with her while I scrambled to stay upright.

After a few minutes of struggling to keep my feet under me, a pint-sized blur in a neon helmet zipped by, executing a flawless hockey stop that peppered my shins with ice shavings. Then the kid flashed a snarky grin at us and rocketed off again.

I scowled after him while River chuckled. “You can’t glare at other people’s children like that.”

“Watch me,” I muttered, wobbling in his snowy wake. “Tiny show-off.”

“Laurie—he’s, like, ten. You’ve got a one-sided rivalry with a child.”

“Yeah, and I’m still losing.” I slipped again, grabbing onto River with a furious groan.

It was rough, and I had no coordination whatsoever, but little by little, my movements stopped resembling that of anewborn deer and started resembling… well, a slightly inebriated deer—but it was progress, nonetheless.

“Bend your knees.” River demonstrated and I did my best to mimic her. “Lean into the glide, not against it.”

I tried it—knees soft, weight centered—and, shockingly, didn’t face-plant. We picked up speed. Wind nipped my cheeks, and for the first time in ages, exhilaration zinged through me without terror riding shotgun.

River released one of my hands. “Think you’ve got it?”

I grimaced when I realized what was coming. “No.”

She let go anyway.

I shot forward on momentum—wobbled—corrected—and kept going. My legs were shaking like crazy, but I didn’t fall. I kept my balance and steered my body and the ice sped by beneath me. A laugh burst from my parted lips, loud and ridiculous and rife with disbelief.

I carved a wide, shaky path, nearly mowing down a kid in a penguin onesie, then returned to River, who caught me when I crashed into her chest.

“Look at you go.” Her arms coiled around me and she held me upright, beaming down at me like I’d just pulled off a triple pirouette and not a shaky half-circle. “You’re a natural.”

“That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” I panted, but the grin stretching my face felt permanently welded there.