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Data de publicação:
2026-05-01 02:16:39
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ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook 43
“Is that the legendary Santiago Vega I see, or just a lone wolf looking for trouble?” a man’s voice resonates across the concrete as soon as the black SUV rumbles to a halt.Isaac Corres is leaning against the chain-link fence of the team parking zone, a mischievous glint in his eyes that could rival the San Antonio sun. He isn’t just any man; he is a vision of lean muscle and sharp wit, his hair wind-swept from the Texas heat.“Could a weary star player spare a single moment for a lowly admirer?” Isaac asks, flashing a grin that has sent Santiago’s pulse into a frantic breakaway more times than he’d care to admit.“Just a moment? You’ve got a hell of a lot more than that, Isaac,” Santiago grunts, hefting his equipment bag over his shoulder. He approaches the perimeter, his inner wolf stirring at the familiar, intoxicating scent of cedar and expensive hair tonic.“I know what that look means, Vega,” Isaac counters, crossing his arms over his chest. “But don’t go labeling me a puck bun
ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook 42
"Where do you think you're going, Isaac? You haven't even had the desk clerk fix that keycard yet."Isaac Corres spun around in the center of the Vega Grand Hotel Suite lobby, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He had been so focused on the flickering red light of his deactivated card—and the exhausting weight of the pack’s championship victory—that he hadn’t noticed the sudden hush falling over the crowd."Santiago?" Isaac gasped. "What in the name of the Great Moon are you doing here? You should be at the arena. You should be with the Warhawks."Santiago Vega stood there, still clad in his sweat-stained black and red jersey, his chest heaving as if he’d run the entire distance from the Capital Ice Dome. He was still wearing his heavy protective gear, though he had swapped his skates for a pair of polished dress shoes that looked absurd beneath his padded leggings. A jagged red line, the mark of a warrior’s helmet, was scorched across his forehead."I’m here because you aren'
ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook 41
The atmosphere inside the Capital Ice Dome was a suffocating blend of ozone, sweat, and the primal scent of several hundred shifted wolves. Isaac Corres stood at the glass, his fingers curling into the railing as he watched the blur of black and gold jerseys clash against the blue and yellow of the Bobcats."He's going to kill him," Camila Ortiz murmured from his side, her eyes tracking Santiago Vega as he leveled a shoulder check into Derek Coleman that sent the blonde Alpha skidding across the ice. "Or he's going to win the whole damn war.""It’s not a war anymore, Camila," Isaac replied, his voice strained. "It’s a hunt. Look at them."Despite the brutality, the personal venom that had fueled their previous brawls was gone. It was clean. It was professional. It was two Alphas proving their worth to the same pack. The scoreboard was a glowing testament to the stalemate: 2-2, three minutes left in the third period. The entire arena was a sea of howling fans, the vibration of their vo
ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook 40
"Being in the heart of the Capital Ice Dome feels like standing in the middle of a lightning storm," Isaac Corres whispered, his voice barely audible over the growing roar of the Warhawks faithful.Walking through the corridors with Derek Coleman felt like a betrayal of his own senses. Even with ninety minutes until the puck drop, the air was saturated with the scent of anticipation and the musk of several hundred shifting wolves. This was it—the game that would decide which pack claimed the ultimate glory of the league."Names?" the security guard at the inner sanctum growled."Isaac Corres and Derek Coleman," Isaac answered, watching the guard’s eyes flicker with recognition.The guard waved them through toward the private family lounge. It was a sprawling space, designed for the high-energy pups of the pro-circuit wolves. A massive screen dominated one wall, and the floor was littered with toys. In the corner, at a low table covered in building blocks, Mateo Vega was deep in concen
ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook 39
Isaac Corres was busy gathered the remnants of a busy afternoon's work at the Bella Vida Salon, the scent of expensive pomade and steam hanging in the air, when the chime above the door rattled violently. He turned, expecting a late walk-in, but instead found a man who looked like he’d been dragged through a rock slide.Derek Coleman stood in the center of the lobby, his blonde hair a mess and his face a map of fresh bruises from the previous night’s locker room brawl. He looked fragile—a state Isaac had never seen the cocky Alpha in."Isaac," Derek rasped, his voice cracking. "Do you know? Tell me the truth."Isaac gripped the broom handle, his heart hammering against his ribs. He knew that look. It wasn't the look of a rival looking for a fight; it was the look of a man whose entire world had just been upended by a single truth."I don't have a slot for you today, Derek," Isaac said, trying to maintain his professional mask despite the sudden chill in his blood. "The team should be
ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook 38
"So, the legendary Santiago Vega actually knows how to use a buzzer," Derek Coleman's voice crackled through the intercom, thick with a jagged, mocking edge.The doorman at the San Antonio luxury high-rise had been remarkably pliable. A few words about 'team business' and he’d granted access to the penthouse level without a second thought. He clearly wasn't paid to keep track of which Alphas were currently trying to tear each other's throats out on national television."A friend," Derek muttered as he swung the heavy oak door open. He looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a rogue shifter. His cheek was a deep, mottled purple, his lip was split, and one ear was twice its normal size—trophies from the locker room brawl Santiago had instigated less than twenty-four hours ago. "What’s the matter, Vega? Come to finish the job? You know there’s security footage in this hallway. My pack lawyers would have a field day.""I’m not here to shift, Coleman. We need to talk.""Talk? You mean you're
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