Se connecterLeo POVA heavy cardboard box slammed onto the hardwood floor of the Manhattan high-rise master bedroom. Dust swirled in the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and looked down at the black marker label on the top flap: LEO’S HOCKEY GEAR / FRAGILE.Jax Miller walked through the doorway carrying two large duffel bags over his broad shoulders, his dark blue Titans hoodie stretched tight over his chest. He dropped the bags near the walk-in closet with a dull thud. His dark amber scent flared warm, heavy, and thick in the open air, completely blending with my crisp winter pine aura.“That’s the last box from the moving truck, Vance,” Jax said, wiping his neck with the collar of his shirt.I looked around the bedroom. Four years of hidden meetings, rented hotel rooms, and secret safehouse visits had led to this exact floorboard. My clothes sat in suitcases near his dresser. My framed Chicago Wolves
Noah POVThe wooden ladder creaked under my boots as I reached for the top corner near the window. A drop of pale sea-blue paint dripped off my brush and landed right on the tip of my nose. I wiped it with the back of my hand, only to spread a light blue streak across my cheek. I wore an oversized black Chicago Wolves shirt with the sleeves cut off, the soft cotton stretching tight over my heavy seven-month bump.Adrian stood across the room holding a wide roller. He was painting the focal wall in a deep, rich cedar-green tone that matched the exact shade of his Alpha aura. His shirt sat on the workbench, his bare shoulders glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he worked the roller up and down.“You missed a spot near the trim, Bennett,” Adrian said, not turning his head.“I didn’t miss a spot, Cross,” I replied, dipping my brush back into the tray. “I’m cutting in the ceiling edge first.”“Look three inches to the left of the curtain rod,” he said, turning around with a quiet smir
Adrian POVThe glass doors of the Palais des Nations auditorium swung open with a heavy thud.I smoothed the lapels of my charcoal suit jacket and kept my eyes fixed on the massive seal of the International Sports Federation mounted over the main stage. Two hundred delegates from thirty different countries filled the tiered rows of leather seats.Noah stood beside me. His dark navy suit was unbuttoned over his soft six-month curve. He did not wear a collar. His unmasked sea-salt scent drifted into the cool air and blended with my dark cedar heat in a warm, steady tide that filled the hallway.“The Swiss news crews are live in the lobby,” Noah murmured. His hand adjusted his silver necktie.I reached down and laced my fingers firmly through his under the wide wooden podium rail. The metal of our matching platinum bands clicked together.“Let them film,” I said. My voice was low and steady. “We gave them the charter yesterday.”Jax Miller stepped up to the edge of the stage. His broad s
Noah POVNoah Bennett winced as the cold, clear gel hit the skin of his stomach.The air in Dr. Sarah Hayes’s private Manhattan examination room blew cool. It carried the sharp scent of antiseptic and clean linen. High-resolution monitors flickered on the wall. Their blue screens reflected against the white ceiling tiles.“Still cold, Sarah,” Noah said. He rested his hands behind his head on the paper-covered table.Adrian Cross did not sit in the guest armchairs near the door. He stood right beside the examination bed. His broad frame leaned over the metal rail. He wore a dark blue Titans track jacket with the collar unbuttoned. His unmasked cedar scent blanketed the room in a heavy protective surge.“It warms up in five seconds, Captain,” Dr. Hayes said. She picked up the curved ultrasound transducer probe.Adrian’s hand shot out and wrapped firmly around Noah’s left wrist. His broad thumb traced over the smooth platinum wedding band on Noah’s finger. His knuckles pressed into the v
Adrian POVThe glass doors of the terrace stood wide open, letting the cool ocean breeze blow through the starlit reception hall. I clinked my fork against my crystal water glass. The sharp metallic chime echoed across the white-draped tables, cutting through the laughter of thirty hockey players, coaches, and federal agents.Jax Miller stood up from his seat at the head table, holding a glass of dark amber whiskey in his massive right hand. Beside him, Leo Vance adjusted the lapels of his navy suit, his dark sapphire engagement ring glinting under the string lights overhead.“Two years ago,” Jax spoke into the microphone, his voice deep and steady, “if you told me the New York Titans Captain and the Chicago Wolves Captain were getting married on a cliff in Maine, I would have checked you into the boards.”The room erupted into a loud wave of laughter, Coach Dawson slapping his hand flat onto the tablecloth.“For three years,” Jax continued, his dark amber eyes locking onto me and Noa
Noah POVThe ocean wind whipped over the edge of the granite cliff, carrying the sharp salt spray of the Atlantic right into my face. I adjusted the lapels of my dark navy tuxedo jacket. The silk fabric fit clean over my shoulders, unbuttoned at the throat to leave my pale, glowing mating mark completely bare in the afternoon sun. Beneath my formal shirt, my waist held a soft, solid five-month curve, but I didn’t hide it.Leo Vance reached out, fixing the white rose pinned to my lapel.“Stop fidgeting, Bennett,” Leo said, his own dark blue suit jacket fitting sharp against his broad frame. “You’re going to tear the seam.”“I’m not fidgeting, Vance,” I replied, my fingers smoothing over the taped silver championship ring on my left hand. “The wind is catching the collar.”“You’re nervous,” Leo noted, a small smirk touching his lips as he looked out over the cliff edge.Below us, rows of white wooden chairs sat arranged on the green lawn facing a massive floral arch of white roses and c







