Rhys

I have a surprise for you.

I stared at the text on my phone, eyeing it suspiciously. It was from my grandfather, and he never sent anything that simple unless it came with strings attached. The words felt cold on the screen, like they carried something heavier than encouragement.

It sounded more like a threat than anything else, and I could not figure out what he was planning.

Ever since the night I had rejected Elian in front of everyone and publicly claimed Kayden as mine, my family had gone completely radio silent.

There were no calls, no annoying texts, and none of them had shown up for any of the games we played in Oak City. They had made their disappointment clear by staying away entirely, and I wished it would always be like that.

And now, on the morning of Game 7, this?

I shoved the phone into my pocket and brushed the unease aside. Whatever the surprise was — whether he was finally coming to support me or just showing up to stir more drama — it would have to wait.

Tonight was not about them. Tonight was Game 7, the final game, and that was all that mattered.

The Northern Avalanche team was heading to the Oak City Mega Arena in our team’s bus. The inside smelled strongly of stale coffee mixed with menthol muscle rub. The air felt thick with the scent of tired bodies and old sweat that no amount of air freshener could cover.

It had been an exhausting week with almost no real rest. We had been playing back and forth with the Southbridge Falcons the entire time, trading wins and losses until every muscle aches and every shift on the ice felt like it took something extra out of us.

I could not wait for the game to end tonight so we could finally breathe again.

I sat beside Miller, whose eyes were closed tight. Ever since the bus started moving, he had been sleeping deeply, his head resting against the window. Poor guy. During Game 5 he had suffered minor injuries that kept him off the ice completely for Game 6. Now that he was recovered and cleared to play, he was back in the lineup. He was lucky he had a doctor boyfriend who had stayed with him every night, nursing him back to health with ice packs and careful checks.

"Listen up," Coach Reddick’s voice suddenly boomed through the bus, loud and sharp. Everyone who had been sleeping, including Miller right beside me, jerked awake at the sound.

"In a few hours we will be having our final game of the season," Coach continued, his tone full of that usual fire even if most of us were running on empty.

The response from the team was dull and tired. It seemed like everyone on the bus was completely exhausted. Even Kayden was leaning heavily against Jaxson’s shoulder a couple rows ahead, his eyes still closed, his body slumped like he was trying to steal a few more minutes of rest before we reached the arena.

The sixth game three days ago had been a crazy one. After we lost to the Southbridge Falcons in Game 5, Kayden had driven himself harder than anyone else on the team. He pushed through every shift like his life depended on it, and it was all thanks to him and Jaxson that we managed to win Game 6 in the end.

They had carried a lot of the load when the rest of us were starting to feel the weight of the long series.

"Tonight, no matter what happens, we have to show the world why we are called the Northern Avalanche and why that Cup belongs to us," Coach Reddick shouted, trying to pump energy into his words, but all he got back were more dull responses and a few half-hearted grunts.

Even the usually energetic Jaxson looked too exhausted to respond with his normal enthusiasm. His shoulders stayed slumped and he stared down at the floor without his usual bounce.

"I think they are all exhausted," Leo said from the first row where he sat with one of his assistants. His voice stayed calm as he continued, and I already knew what was next — his usual medical jargon. "Their cortisol levels are elevated from the cumulative stress of the series, and their lactate thresholds have been pushed to the limit after six straight high-intensity games. Continuing with motivational rhetoric at this point could trigger an unnecessary adrenergic surge that further depletes their already low glycogen stores right before they need them most on the ice. Maybe we should save the full speech until after they have had proper rehydration and some targeted myofascial release work in the training room to help with the accumulated muscle tightness."

Manager Elton turned in his seat and gave Leo a hard look, but Leo just shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I am saying this as their assigned physician," Leo added, completely unfazed.

I rolled my eyes as Elton started arguing back with him about team motivation versus medical caution. The two of them went back and forth in low voices while the bus kept rolling forward.

I put my earbuds in, turned the music up just enough to drown them out, and shut my eyes. In my head I could already see the ice under my skates, the cold air hitting my face, the sound of blades cutting into the surface, and how we were going to fight for every single inch of it tonight.

After that night with Damian in the parking lot, he had not bothered me anymore. Not once. Even when I thought he might release those pictures to cause trouble, nothing happened. It was either he got scared of the scandal after I threatened him, or maybe he had simply given up and moved on.

I had no idea what he was really up to, but throughout Game 5 and Game 6 we had barely even exchanged glances on the ice. I just hoped today would stay quiet on that front.

No surprise visits, no dirty looks from across the rink, no extra bullshit to deal with. I just wanted the game to end.