Kayden

By the end of the morning skate, I felt energized, the ice sharpening my focus instead of draining me. My legs moved smooth and strong beneath me, the cold air biting at my cheeks as we pushed through the session.

The coach paired Rhys and me since we were both defenders. We worked on most of the drills together, focusing on our chemistry like we always did. We practiced simple hinge plays along the blue line, quick passes back and forth while keeping our gaps tight, reading each other’s movements without needing to say a word.

Every time I pivoted or opened up for a breakout, Rhys was right there, mirroring me perfectly, his stick ready like an extension of mine.

Even though the practice was serious, I couldn’t ignore Rhys’s tight ass each time it came into view.

When Rhys saw me staring, he rolled his eyes and pointed forward. "Focus on the game, softie, not my ass!"

I chuckled and did all I could to focus on the practice, but trust me, Rhys’s ass was impossible to ignore. Even though it was probably the umpteenth time I had seen it, naked or not, I stared at it as if it was the first time.

When Coach Reddick finally blew the whistle to wrap things up, I glided toward the middle of the rink and let my skates slip out from under me on purpose. I dropped down onto the ice with a heavy sigh, the cold surface pressing through my gear as I lay on my back, staring up at the bright arena lights.

My chest rose and fell steadily, the energy from the warm-up still buzzing through me even as I caught my breath.

Rhys skated toward me and lowered himself right beside me, stretching out on the ice like it was the most normal thing in the world. His shoulder brushed against mine, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him through our pads.

Miller joined us next, flopping down on my other side with a dramatic groan, then Jaxson came barreling in, sliding on his knees before lying flat out with the rest of us. Pretty soon the whole group of teammates was there, scattered across the ice in a loose circle, our sticks tossed aside as we all took a moment to just breathe.

"Man!" Miller yelled out loud. "I am nervous as hell about tonight," he admitted, his voice low but honest as he stared at the ceiling. "Biggest game of the season. I am just afraid we might blow it."

Luca chimed in. "Me too. Even though we’ve won for two years now, I am just scared that the Southbridge Falcons would pull something out of their sleeve and win against us."

"Yeah, my stomach’s been in knots since we got off the bus," Theo added, and a couple others murmured in agreement, the usual pre-game jitters spilling out now that the skate was done.

I heaved a deep sigh because they were right to a point. The Southbridge Falcons were strong. If they weren’t, we would have won the Stanley Cup in game five or even four.

"Boys!" Jaxson shouted as he suddenly sat up halfway. "It’s gonna be well, boys! We got this! We’re walking out of here with that cup, no doubt about it!" His voice echoed off the boards, full of that wild confidence that always lit a fire under everyone.

A few laughs broke out, and even I couldn’t help cracking a smile as the tension eased just a little.

Rhys turned his head toward me, his blue eyes lighting up. He didn’t say anything but just reached over and bumped his gloved hand against mine on the ice.

I bumped back, silently promising him I was good. For now, at least, everything felt right.

I excused myself from the group a couple of minutes later, pushing up onto my skates with a casual stretch. "Gotta hit the washroom real quick before we head back," I told the guys, keeping my voice light so no one would read too much into it.

The team was already starting to file off the ice, chatting and joking, but I didn’t head toward the locker room tunnel like everyone else. Instead, I veered off toward the public concourse area near the main entrance, the one open to fans and visitors on game days.

Now that the morning skate was over, it was time for the Southbridge Falcons to do theirs. The arena was starting to fill up with early arrivals—vendors setting up concession stands, security doing final walkthroughs, the faint thump of music testing over the speakers.

I needed a minute alone, which was why I had gone to the visitors’ washroom instead of the one in the locker room. When Rhys had offered to follow, I rejected his offer immediately and told him I would be fine.

Once I reached the washroom, I heaved a deep sigh, staring first at the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, casting a white glow across the tiled floors and the long row of sinks.

I stepped up to the sink farthest from the door, gripped the cold porcelain edge, and stared hard at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks were still flushed from the skate, hair slightly damp under my beanie, and my eyes bright with the adrenaline that had not yet settled.

This was the biggest game of the season. The biggest of my life. The game that I had only watched on screen before—I was about to play in it. Winning was a must today. No matter what happened, I had to raise the cup and show the council who made the annoying rules against omegas that we were stronger than they imagined us to be.

I twisted the faucet hard, letting the water run ice-cold, then splashed it over my face in heavy, repeated handfuls. The shock stung my skin, rivulets dripping down my neck and soaking into the collar of my warmup jersey. It grounded me, cutting through the buzz in my head.

"I have to win this game," I muttered under my breath, my voice rough and low against the empty bathroom tiles. "I must win this!" I shouted, and the sound bounced back at me, sounding as desperate as I felt.

I repeated the words again, gripping the sink until my knuckles whitened. "I have to win this. I must win this."

A deep sigh tore out of me, my shoulders slumping for a second at the thoughts of how it would end if we didn’t win the cup, or maybe if the soothing pheromones of Rhys overrode my senses and my heat hit me on the ice.

"No," I muttered and shut off the water with a sharp twist. I grabbed a thick wad of paper towels and dried my face roughly. "I am going to win," I spoke to my reflection one last time and then turned to leave the washroom.

Just as I was about to walk out, the door pushed open and someone walked in.