Claws on Ice

Trixie's POV

“Sloppy, Trixie! Watch your angles!”

But I had caught the puck just fine, Yasmine just had to yell across the ice, “You're the one who's sloppy!” I yelled back, before the Coach blew the whistle.

“Timeout! Take five, girls!”

Perfect timing.

I threw Yasmine a glare followed by an eye roll that probably strained my optic nerves, before storming to the bench, grabbed my water bottle, and sat down.

God, my hair is sticking to my neck. Why did I choose hockey? Ice hockey is just skating with weapons and now I suddenly wonder if frogs ever get tired of jumping. Like, do they ever just want to crawl?

I looked down at my legs and God did my knees look weird today. If I die out here—

“So it’s at his place, right? Around nine?”

My ears practically twitched, across the ice, a bunch of the girls were huddled up by the equipment shed, whispering something about a party.

I took a huge gulp of water and instantly choked, hacking a bit because the joy of a social event almost flooded my lungs. I wiped my mouth, grinning like a maniac, and waved at them from the bench.

“There’s a party? Oh my god, who's hosting?”

The entire circle went dead silent, turning their heads in unison to stare at me like I’d just grown a second head and just then they burst out laughing.

I blinked, confused, “What’s so funny?”

“You,” one of them snorted, wiping her eye.

“Why me?” I crossed my arms, “What did I do?”

“Trixie, even if there IS a party,” she said, looking at me with this completely fake pity, “why on earth would you think you'd be invited?”

I blinked again and for a second, the words just bounced off my brain.

Then the girl next to her leaned forward, a smirk spreading across her face. “Has she forgotten her place already? The weak, weak little omega thinks she gets to hang out with the rest of us?”

Another round of laughter but louder this time.

Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but there was absolutely no way I was letting these people see me cry. I stood up, tossing my chin in the air.

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to go to your trashy little gathering anyway,” I snapped, “I have way better things to do. Like, cleaning my room, o-or watching paint dry. Both sound much more entertaining than breathing the same air as you guys.”

Yeah that was terrible. I sounded like a bitter toddler.

Before I could try to salvage my dignity, Yasmine strolled over, looking effortlessly perfect and barely even sweating. She didn't even have to ask as the main girl immediately turned to her with the biggest smile, “Hey, Yasmine! You're coming to the party tonight, right? You HAVE to be there.”

Yasmine didn't even look at me as she smiled back. “Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

That was it…my limit was officially reached.

I turned on my heel, grabbed my stick and my bag, and marched off the field. Right on cue, the sky decided to open up and now I was walking home in a downpour.

“Whatever,” I muttered to myself, blinking away the raindrops that were mixing with the tears I refused to shed. “Who cares about their stupid party? I don’t need friends. Friends are a distraction.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, my wet sneakers squeaking loudly against the pavement.

“I just need to focus on the game and that’s it.”

Except that thought brought on a whole new wave of panic because the regional female championship game was in exactly one week.

ONE WEEK!

And between getting insulted by the betas, ignored by my sister, and the fact that my defense angles actually were kind of sloppy today? I wasn't even halfway close to being prepared.

God, I wonder if it's too late to fake my own death and move to a different state.

I slipped through the back door and moved like a ninja up the stairs. If Mom or Dad caught me looking like this, the lectures would never end.

“Why can't you be organized like Yasmine? Yasmine always brings an umbrella.”

Blah, blah, blah.

Playing in the regional finals was my biggest dream as I closed my eyes, imagining the stadium lights, the roar of the crowd, the whistles blowing for MY goals. And the best part? For once, Coach wasn't benching me.

Except, right. Yasmine was captain. Which was a total joke if you'd ask me.

I stripped out of my clothes, took a long, steaming bath and threw on a cozy oversized sweater. By the time I wandered downstairs, the smell of dinner was heavy in the air, and so was the sound of my parents' voices from the kitchen.

“The Alpha is pushing for the eastern borders to be secured before the winter freeze,” Dad was saying, sipping from his coffee cup, “The beta families are getting restless about the hunting quotas.”

“Well, he needs to finalize the alliance with the Northern pack first,” Mom replied, chopping vegetables, “If the line doesn't hold, the politics of the council won't matter anyway.”

I slid onto a chair at the dining table, making a decent amount of noise, but they didn't even look my way, they just kept tossing pack politics back and forth.

Finally, Dad paused, looking around the kitchen. “Where's Yasmine?”

I rolled my eyes, “I'm right here, you know. I was here first. It would be kind of nice if you asked how I was faring today.”

Dad blinked then with a soft, slightly guilty smile, he walked over and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head. “Of course, sweetheart. How was—”

And suddenly the front door burst open.

“I am home, and I am exhausted!” Yasmine’s voice chimed through the hallway.

Instantly, both of my parents literally lit up. It was like someone flipped a switch in the room.

Yasmine strode in, looking completely flawless despite the rain, and immediately started yapping. “Practice was intense, Dad! The girls are so locked in and as captain, I really feel like I’ve got the team’s synergy at an all-time high. We are more than ready for the regional finals.”

I reached into the fruit bowl, grabbed an apple, and took a loud bite.

Mom turned to me then, almost as an afterthought. “Oh, Trixie, are you ready for the championship game next week?”

I swallowed quickly and nodded, opening my mouth. “Yeah, actually, I've been working on my—”

“Oh, she'll be fine!” Yasmine chirped, cutting right over me before I could even finish my sentence.

“Coach is keeping her on a really strict, simple rotation so she doesn't get overwhelmed by the pressure. Don't worry, Mom, I'll make sure she doesn't mess up our formation.’

She smiled sweetly, totally stealing the spotlight back before I even had a second to hold it.

×××

The days before the game went by in a blur and suddenly it was here.

We were all on the floor stretching while Coach paced around, throwing out dramatic motivational quotes, “Pain is temporary, pride is forever, girls!” Right on cue, the buzzer echoed through the locker room and everyone started slamming their sticks against their chests, chanting the team name.

Coach started herding us out. I grabbed my helmet, my stick, and took a deep breath but as I moved toward the door, a shoulder suddenly slammed right into mine.

Yasmine.

She glared down at me with her face behind her helmet, “Don't mess this up, Trixie. If anything goes wrong out there, you know exactly whose fault it’s going to be.”

I immediately shoved my shoulder right back into hers, hard enough to make her stumble a bit, and pulled my helmet over my head. “Watch where you're going, captain,” I muttered, marching past her.

The moment I stepped out of the tunnel, the crowd and the lights hit me, completely overwhelming my senses. My head spun for a second as the volume of the roaring fans washed over me, and I got bumped left and right by the girls skating past me onto the ice.

The opposite team was from the notorious North pack.

They hadn't lost a single game all season, not because they were better, they won by using these clumsy, dirty little tricks to trip people up and blindside the refs.

But I was going to change that today.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

For the first two periods, it was the Yasmine show, while I was getting screamed at by Coach, almost getting benched twice for nearly missing my rotations because I was trying too hard to compensate for the North pack’s cheap shots.

And by the third period, I was completely fed up. If I was going to get blamed anyway, I might as well make it fun.

“Time for a little humble pie.”

As the play moved toward the net, I fake-tripped, sending my stick sliding perfectly into the path of the Northern defender who was closing in on Yasmine.

It caused a massive, clumsy pile-up that completely shielded what I did from the ref, but it forced Yasmine to lose her footing and awkwardly slide face-first into the goalpost just as the puck bounced off her skate and trickled into the net.

It was absolutely hilarious, and it worked.

The final buzzer blasted through the arena. We won!

Suddenly, the team wasn't crowding around Yasmine—they were crowding around me and for the first time in my entire life, I was being recognized.

Across the ice, I noticed my little trick had caused a bit of damage. One of the Northern players—the kid of some high-ranking council official—was throwing a massive tantrum, pointing at the ice and crying to her dad but I didn't care. I just watched them stomp off, rolling my eyes.

Because a win is a win.

As the celebration started to wind down and we headed out, seeing Yasmine sulky and sad brought immense joy straight to my heart.

The high lasted all the way to the parking lot.

We got into the car, the silence was deafening as I just stared out the window, replaying the goal over and over in my head.

Then, everything happened too fast.

When suddenly a massive, terrifying wolf stepped right into the middle of the road, its eyes glowing in the headlights.

“Dad, look out!” Yasmine shrieked.

Dad slammed on the brakes, losing control of the wheel. The tires screeched violently against the wet road as everyone in the car screamed, the world tilting sideways as the car spun out of control, careening off the road.

My head slammed hard against the window and everything started spinning. I couldn't breathe, couldn't figure out which way was up.

I tried so hard to keep my eyes open, but my eyelids felt like lead, dragging me down into the dark.

The very last thing I saw before I completely passed out was the orange, flickering glow of a starting fire.