INICIAR SESIÓNDominic POV
The moment I smelled Theo on the ice, part of me went still somewhere deeper than thought.
One second, I was skating toward him, focused on the game and the seconds bleeding off the clock. The next, something sweet cut through the smell of blood, sweat, and ice. It was faint, sharp, and completely wrong for a hockey rink.
Anyone else would have missed it completely. I did not.
My body reacted before my brain caught up. Every instinct I had went unnaturally still for one sharp second before turning violently possessive hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
Mine.
The thought hit so hard I nearly lost my balance on the ice. The intensity of it unsettled me immediately. This was Theo Maren. My rival. Not someone my body should have recognized this quickly.
It made no sense.
Theo played hockey like he had been built for violence, reckless and impossible to intimidate. I had never cared whether he was an Alpha or Beta because it had never mattered before. But I knew what an Omega smelled like, and Theo smelled exactly like one.
I watched him skate away while panic showed clearly in every movement he made. His gloves were gone, his helmet already off, and tension pulled hard through his shoulders in a way that had nothing to do with the game anymore.
Something was wrong.
A teammate grabbed my shoulder as the buzzer sounded overhead and the arena erupted around us, but I barely heard any of it. Theo had already disappeared down the tunnel, looking terrified, and I was moving before I consciously decided to follow him.
The hallway split into three directions past the tunnel entrance, but I did not stop to think about where he had gone because I did not need to. A faint sweetness drifted through the air, wrong for a place like this.
I followed it automatically.
The thought arrived and refused to leave. If I was right, Theo Maren had spent six years surviving like this through suppressants, patches, and injectors taped beneath hockey gear inside a league that would destroy him the second it learned the truth. He had survived this alone for years.
Part of me wanted to drag him straight to medical before this got worse. The other part already knew I was not letting anyone near him.
The maintenance corridor outside the bathroom sat nearly empty because championship chaos had dragged everyone back toward the ice. Security, medics, and press handlers moved in the opposite direction, leaving the hallway silent except for Theo's scent and the uneven sound of his breathing through the locked door.
I stopped outside the bathroom near the locker rooms. I did not need confirmation to know he was inside. Theo's scent slipped beneath the door, and my lungs tightened around it immediately.
"Theo," I said.
Silence answered me. His breathing remained audible through the door, uneven enough to immediately put me on edge.
I knocked once and kept my voice low. "I know you're in there," I added.
No answer came. The sweetness in the hallway deepened. My hands closed into fists at my sides because if I could smell Theo through a closed door, any Alpha walking within twenty feet of this corridor could smell him too.
I pressed one hand flat against the metal. "Theo, open the door," I commanded.
Several long seconds passed before his voice finally came through the other side, quiet and stripped raw.
"Go away," he whispered.
He sounded wrong, breathless, and shaking.
I had seen this before while playing overseas in Russia. Omegas in suppressant crashes. His suppressants were not simply failing anymore. His body had already moved past the point where another dose would do anything.
"Did your injector break?" I asked.
Silence followed before Theo finally answered. "How do you know that?" he demanded.
"Open the door," I said.
"No," he shot back.
The word came too fast, and the strain underneath it made my jaw tighten. I forced myself to breathe evenly while keeping one hand against the door.
A few seconds later, his voice came again, quieter this time. "I just need another suppressant," he muttered. "That's all. I just need—"
"They aren't working anymore," I interrupted.
A broken sound answered me from the other side.
I rested my forehead briefly against the metal while tension pulled tightly through my shoulders. Inside the bathroom, something crashed against the tile floor before Theo swore sharply under his breath. Then his breathing changed.
A second later, his scent flooded the hallway in a dense wave sweet enough to sharpen my vision instantly. I sucked in one hard breath and held it. Then Theo made a sound through the door, soft and broken enough to strip away the last of my restraint.
Whatever restraint I still had disappeared after that.
I grabbed the handle, found it locked, and drove my shoulder into the door hard enough for it to slam open against the interior wall. Theo stumbled backward before catching himself against the sink with both hands.
I stood there staring at him.
He looked like someone who had been holding himself together for far too long and had finally run out of strength. Sweat soaked through his hair while his face burned flushed beneath the harsh bathroom lights. His chest rose unevenly beneath partially removed gear, and when his eyes met mine, they carried the desperate look of someone trying to decide whether fighting or running was still possible.
Beside his knee, the broken injector pen lay on the floor in two pieces. I stared at it briefly.
Six years of suppressants, lies, discipline, and exhausting control had come down to a shattered injector on a bathroom floor. Something angry twisted hard through my chest, not at Theo but at the fact that he had survived this alone for so long.
Then Theo hit me all at once, and whatever rational thought I still had disappeared instantly.
The bathroom door still hung crooked on broken hinges. Theo was still bleeding onto the floor. My entire body burned with instincts I barely recognized anymore. And the only thing I knew with absolute certainty was that I was not calling anyone. I was not reporting him.
Taking Theo home was a terrible idea. I did it anyway.
The decision was already made before I fully understood it, and that terrified me more than anything I had ever experienced on the ice.
Theo POVMorning light cut through the sheer white curtains and laid long silver lines across the hardwood floor.The master suite was quiet. Cedar, rain, and warm vanilla still hung thick in the air, settled deep into the sheets. The seventy-two-hour Rut had burned itself out, leaving the room still and heavy in the best way.I shifted a little. My body felt loose, grounded, heavier than usual in a way that wasn’t exhaustion. Every muscle that had been wound tight for days now rested easy against the mattress.Dominic lay behind me on his side, one arm locked firmly over my waist, keeping my back pressed to his chest. His breathing was slow and even. His forehead rested against the back of my neck. The steady rise and fall of his chest against my spine felt like the only clock that mattered.I stayed still and watched dust motes drift through the light.For eight years, waking up had meant checking the wrist tags, swallowing suppressants, and bracing for whatever came next. Today the
Dominic POVThe heavy oak door slammed shut. The brass deadbolt clicked into place with a sharp, final sound that cut the city off completely.Silence settled over the penthouse. My hands were still shaking when I turned from the door. The dark navy Royals t-shirt stuck to my back. My chest rose and fell in short, hard bursts. My pulse hammered in my ears, loud enough that I could feel it in my teeth.Theo stood by the edge of the bed. His dark hair was still damp from the shower. In the low amber light, his blue eyes looked wide. The mark on his collarbone glowed a deep, vivid red under the skin, answering the wave of my scent that filled the room the second the door closed.He didn’t step back.He came toward me instead, two solid steps, until our breathing matched.“Dominic,” he said. His voice was rough.I didn’t give him time to say anything else.I closed the space between us, framed his face with both hands, and kissed him hard. The contact hit like a match to dry tinder. Every
Dominic POVThe post-game corridor under the arena smelled of ice, damp wool, and heavy exhaust.I walked fast down the concrete hallway, my skates clacking against the rubber floorboards. My dark navy Royals jersey felt hot against my skin, the number 9 on my back sticking to my sweater. Beside me, Julian held a tablet, reading off the medical updates from the Titans' wing."His blood test came back clean," Julian said, keeping pace with my stride. "Dr. Harris confirmed no heart issues, just physical exhaustion.""He was shaking on the ice, Julian," I said, my jaw tight.A sharp, hot spike hit my chest. It wasn't my own heart. The bond pulled tight, vibrating against my collarbone like a stretched cable. My pulse jumped to one-thirty in two seconds, my palms growing slick against my stick handle."Dominic?" Julian stopped, looking at my face. "Your eyes are shifting."I pressed my back against the concrete wall, taking a heavy breath. The air in my lungs tasted strange, too hot, thic
Theo POVThe locker room door closed behind me, cutting off the dull roar of the arena.My skates felt like blocks of lead anchored to the rubber mat. My chest heaved under the heavy navy jersey, the white C stitched over my heart rising and falling in rapid, shallow bursts. Down the front, my number 17 was smeared with ice shavings and gray board grease.Gavin Vance dropped his helmet onto the wooden bench with a heavy clatter. "Double overtime. That was brutal, Captain.""We took Game 1," I rasped, my throat raw from breathing cold ice air for four hours.I unbuckled my chin strap with trembling fingers. Without suppressants, my body had poured every drop of its biological energy into those five periods. My skin felt hot, a deep, radiating burn buzzing under my collarbones.The side door to the medical suite clicked open.Dr. Harris stepped into the doorway holding a clipboard and a bottle of electrolyte water. "Maren. Trainer's room. Now."I didn't argue. I unlaced my skates, stood
Dominic POVThe glass panel in front of my chair stayed wide open.Below the suite, eighteen thousand fans filled the arena bowl, their shouts echoing off the steel rafters. Cold air rolled off the ice surface, carrying the sharp scent of cut frost, rubber, and sweat up into the private balcony.I sat in the front row, wearing my dark navy Royals team jacket, my arms resting on the leather railing.Down on the ice, the Titans wore their light blue home jerseys. At the center of their top line stood Theo, my husband, his number 19 broad across his back and the white C stitched over his chest. He moved across the red line in two clean strides, his steel cutting deep into the surface.A sharp pulse buzzed against my collarbone.It was not physical pain. It was the phantom resonance of our mating bond, vibrating in time with Theo's heart rate. Every heavy breath he took, every fast turn on his left skate, hummed straight through my chest, even as my own Royals team fought to contain him.
Theo POVThe arena tunnel smelled of frost, skate leather, and wet rubber.Beyond the dark archway, eighteen thousand fans roared in unison, their voices shaking the concrete floorboards under my steel blades. High above, red and blue floodlights flashed across the arena ceiling, casting long shadows down the hallway.Gavin Vance stepped up beside me, adjusting his helmet strap. "Game 1, Captain. Rink is packed."I touched the heavy white C stitched over my heart. "Puck drops in two minutes. Stay physical on their blue line."Down the hall, the Royals stepped out of their locker room in dark navy jerseys. Dominic walked at the front of their line, his composite stick resting against his shoulder. His eyes met mine across the forty feet of concrete, intense, sharp, and burning with a fierce athletic hunger.He didn't speak. He just gave a single, firm nod.I adjusted my grip on my stick, my knuckles white against the tape. No suppressants coursed through my veins today. No heavy chemic







