Chapter 7: Blood on the Crimson Ice

The VIP box was a glass fortress overlooking a war zone. Down on the ice, the second period hadn’t just started; it had exploded. 

The referee’s whistle was completely drowned out by the bloodlust of the crowd and the brutal, metallic crunch of pads smashing into the plexiglass boards.

"Holy hell," Chloe whispered, her fingers gripping the brass railing of the suite so hard her knuckles turned white. "Dominic wasn’t lying. They are playing to kill."

I couldn't answer. My throat was completely dry. I stood pressed against the glass, my eyes locked onto the black-and-silver streak that was Dominic Garcia. He was a force of pure, untamed destruction on the ice. Every time Ryker even touched the puck, Dominic was there, a towering shadow that slammed the Icefang prince into the boards with enough force to rattle the glass all the way up to our suite.

Good, Lupine growled in my chest, her silver claws unsheathing in my mind. Let him shatter the boy who broke us and embarrassed us in front of the whole pack.

But Ryker wasn't playing fair. Deprived of his fated mate bond, his Alpha aura was visibly erratic, projecting a desperate, toxic red hue that bled across the ice. He was hacking, tripping, and throwing illegal elbows whenever the refs looked away.

Halfway through the period, the Silverfang Predators forced a turnover. Ryker broke away, flying down the left wing with terrifying speed.

"He’s going wide!" Chloe yelled.

Asher braced himself in the Reapers' goal crease, his massive frame shifting as he lowered his center of gravity. His golden curls were tucked beneath his dark helmet, his gaze laser-focused on the oncoming threat. 

Ryker didn't even look at the net. At the last possible second, instead of shooting, Ryker intentionally dug his skates into the ice and lunged directly into Asher’s chest, using his entire weight to drive the star goalie back into the iron post.

CRACK.

The sound of the goalpost violently shifting echoed through the arena. Asher collapsed onto the ice, clutching his ribs, his body writhing in agonizing pain.

"Asher!" I screamed, my hands slamming against the glass.

The arena erupted. The referee immediately blew the whistle, pointing at Ryker for a major charging penalty. But the Blackwood Reapers didn't care about the whistle.

Before the refs could intervene, Kaelen, the scarred enforcer, dropped his hockey stick. With a terrifying, silent fury, he skated across the blue line like a runaway freight train. He grabbed Ryker by the collar of his blue jersey, spun him around, and delivered a devastating right hook straight to Ryker’s jaw.

Ryker’s helmet flew off, skittering across the ice as he crashed hard onto his back. Blood sprayed from his split lip, staining the pristine white ice a stark, violent crimson.

Instantly, the ice became a chaotic bench-clearing brawl. Jax and Logan lunged at Kaelen, but the Miller twins, Zane and Tristan, threw themselves into the fray, their synchronized movements perfectly cutting off the Icefang defensemen. They were laughing—a wild, manic sound—as they dragged the Silverfang players down to the ice.

Through the absolute chaos, Dominic didn't join the pile. He skated slowly over to where Ryker was painfully pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, spitting blood onto the ice.

Dominic stood over him, his silver eyes cold, dark, and entirely unbothered by the referees trying to pull the teams apart. He leaned down, his voice carrying over the microphone array near the penalty box.

"That was for touching my goalie, Blackthorn," Dominic murmured, his voice cutting through the roar of the arena. "And the next one is for touching my mate."

Down in the pile, Kaelen and the twins were being assessed game misconducts, but the damage to the Silverfang psyche was already done.

 Ryker looked up at Dominic, his icy blue eyes wide with a mixture of humiliating rage and genuine terror. He looked past Dominic, his gaze traveling all the way up to the VIP box, locking onto me.

Even from the distance, I could see the raw, toxic obsession burning in his face. He realized he was losing everything—his game, his pride, and the Omega he had foolishly thrown away.

Cynthia was screaming from the Icefang benches, her face twisted in an ugly, hysterical scowl as she watched her chosen Alpha get publicly dismantled.

Ten minutes later, the second period ended with the Blackwood Reapers leading 4-1.

"I need to go down there," I told Chloe, my heart pounding against my ribs as I looked at the tunnel where the players were exiting. "Asher is hurt."

"Elara, wait, it’s dangerous!" Chloe called out, but I was already running out of the suite.

I sprinted down the concrete stairs, ignoring the hostile stares of the Icefang pack members who recognized me. I made my way to the secure training corridor behind the Reapers' locker room.

The door to the medical room was cracked open. I hurried inside, my breath hitching at the sight.

Asher was sitting on the examination table, his jersey cut open to reveal a massive, purple bruise blooming across his ribs. He was breathing in shallow, painful gasps, but the moment he saw me burst through the door, his eyes lit up with that familiar, lazy warmth.

"Hey, beautiful," he whispered, a weak smirk tugging at his lips despite the pain. "Did you see that save I made before the prince decided to try and break me?"

"You're an idiot," I choked out, rushing to his side. Tears pricked my eyes as I carefully touched the edge of the bruise. The moment my skin met his, a violent, electric spark of the second-chance fated bond snapped between us. 

The sheer soothing power of the mate bond flooded his system, and Asher let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief as the tension in his injured ribs instantly eased.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hand flying to cup my waist, pulling my voluptuous curves flush against his uninjured side. "You feel so good, Elara. Your wolf... her magic is incredible."

"Don't exert yourself," a deep voice commanded from the doorway.

Dominic walked in, his massive chest still heaving from the period, his silver eyes tracking the way Asher’s hand was wrapped possessively around my hip. He didn't look angry; he looked predatory, his aura expanding to fill the small medical room. Behind him, Kaelen stood guard at the door, his dark eyes softening just a fraction when he saw I was safe.

"The Icefang pack elders are trying to contest the match," Dominic said, walking up to stand directly in front of me. He reached out, his large, calloused fingers catching a stray tear on my cheek. "They know they're ruined if they lose the finals. They are trying to claim we smuggled a rogue into their territory."

"What?" I whispered, fear gripping my chest.

Dominic’s thumb brushed my lower lip, his gaze darkening to pure charcoal. "Let them try. My lawyers are already freezing their pack assets. But right now, we have a third period to finish. Ryker is desperate, Elara. He’s going to try something stupid before the final buzzer."

He leaned down, his lips pressing a firm, possessive kiss against the crown of my head, right over his varsity hoodie.

"Stay right beside Kaelen," Dominic ordered softly. "Because when this game ends, I’d make sure the Icefang dynasty dies."