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Chapter 10: The Quiet Drive
publish date:
2026-08-20 09:22:48
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Icy Nights: Mated to the Three Alphas CHAPTER 80: ARRIVAL OF THE MARLOWE ENVOYS
JessieMartins is already moving before the stranger's sentence finishes. He rises controlled, booth legs dragging on sticky boards as he steps between me and the charcoal suit. His hand lands on my shoulder and holds.My thumb has gone numb against the glass."Say that again," Martins says.The man tilts his head. He takes Martins in first. Then the others.Martins shifts onto his stronger leg. The movement costs him. He plants it firm and gives the stranger no room.Resin cuts through the beer air, sharp, then iron.Vince watches from the zinc. His rag stays still. He keeps one eye on the door, one on the booth. He does not move. The glass in his hand sweats. He sets it down slow.The man sets the placard on the bar top. He smooths his lapel, checks a cufflink, and leaves his hand there.Nothing of this bar in his scent. Polished shoes leave no print on the sticky floor."Andre Bishop," he says. "Envoy. I represent Professor Frank Ivey, Chair of the Canisius Bloodline Registry, New
Icy Nights: Mated to the Three Alphas CHAPTER 79: VICTORY AT THE RINKSIDE
JessieThe Rinkside door bangs open and the noise hits my chest before my eyes finish adjusting. Brass horns from the jukebox rattle the bottles behind the bar. Old beer clings to the floorboards under every step.Players spill through the entrance still arguing over the empty-net goal. Jerseys hang loose. Hair stays wet from the post-game rinse.Reid Carver and Kade Mercer nearly trip over each other mid-shout. Nolan Pike waves a roll of athletic tape over his head. Callen Frost holds his phone up, filming the whole room without blinking.Vince Harlow already pours shots behind the zinc counter, rag hooked over one shoulder. “First round’s on the house. Second round’s on your scholarships.”Jonah reaches the bar first. “Make it four rounds, Vince. We scored four.”I trail in last with the mascot head tucked under my arm. Sweat still dries along my hairline. Showering can wait.Nobody needs me to watch the exits tonight. I can leave that job to somebody else. The last traces of their
Icy Nights: Mated to the Three Alphas CHAPTER 78: TELEPATHIC COACHING
JessieFour minutes left in the third. Duluth's defense packs the middle every time the Wolves cross the blue line, forcing the attack wide.The right-side defender commits early. The left slides over to cover. It leaves a seam along the boards nobody's using.I grip the booth railing. The plastic digs into my palms.Two periods of watching have taught me their pattern. Nobody on our bench has tried exploiting it.I lean forward. My mouth opens. The crowd noise swallows whatever I try to shout.The bond carries no conversation. I can sense the others, but nobody is reaching for me. I've received messages through it. Sending one myself is another matter.I close my eyes and focus on Silas. The faint trace of black tea and oakmoss steadies something in my chest.Right defender commits early. Seam on the boards. Wait for it.The words crowd together. I have to force the instruction into something he can understand.…Silas The message reaches me mid-stride. Clear enough that I don't que
Icy Nights: Mated to the Three Alphas CHAPTER 77: THE SOUND OF BREAKING
JessieThe puck drops at 7:14. Committee meets at nine tomorrow morning. I keep both numbers in my head while Duluth's first check lands.Skates scrape. Sticks collide. Someone crashes against the boards."Move it! Move it!" Coach Rorvik shouts from the bench.Martins collects the puck near the blue line. His silver limiter catches beneath his upper lip. He drives forward, chin down, eyes on the play."Watch your left!" Jonah calls.A Duluth defenseman slams into Martins. Helmets collide. The boards take the hit."That's one!" Jonah yells, chasing the loose puck.The referee watches. No arm goes up.I grip the tunnel railing inside the mascot booth. The mascot head blocks half the floor. My damp palms leave prints on the plastic.Through the glass, Martins straightens. Pine resin and cold stone reach me through the link. The trace is faint."Get up, captain," I whisper.A fresh collision sends another Golden Wolves player against the boards. The stands get loud. Not cheering."Come on
Icy Nights: Mated to the Three Alphas CHAPTER 76: DEAN ESSEN'S ULTIMATUM
JessieThe door bar gives under my palm. Warm office air hits my face first, bergamot and cold leather cutting over gardenia. Three figures stand inside, and the dynamic registers without a second of delay.My sneakers squeak on the tile. The locker room noise has vanished behind me, replaced by a heavy administrative quiet. Wet hair clings to the back of my neck, and Jonah's heat is already fading from my skin.Dean Essen sits behind her mahogany desk, a wine-dark runner stretched over the wood. A single pen rests across her knuckles. The registrar's folder lies open before her, its red sticker peeling at the corner. She has been reading from it for ten minutes without looking up.Lila stands two steps behind the Dean's shoulder, weight shifted to one hip, arms folded. She wears the quiet satisfaction of someone waiting for a trap to spring. Her gardenia scent hangs thick in the recycled air, cloying.Martins stands directly in front of the desk. His feet stay planted, shoulders squa
Icy Nights: Mated to the Three Alphas CHAPTER 75: THE LOCKER ROOM CELEBRATION
JessieA stick cracks against rubber matting and the locker room answers. A trainer yells about the playoff schedule. Nobody answers him. Beckett’s locker door bangs shut. A towel drops and stays where it lands.I keep folding.My hands move without pause. Fold. Smooth. Stack. The pile leans left. I press the top towel flatter and the fabric stays damp under my palm.The human side of the room breaks open. Backslaps land. Tape rips off wrists. Gear bags unzip in a hurry. Someone starts music from a phone speaker and the bass rattles the metal doors.The five at the far end stay still.Beckett Rook works his laces in silence, mouthguard resting on the bench. Callen Frost works his jaw open and shut. The shower head at the end of the row runs hot, steam already thick along the ceiling. Nobody stands under it.“Hey, Beckett!” someone calls from the noise. “You joining or what?”Beckett lifts two fingers without looking up. Goes back to his laces.The kid shrugs and returns to his phone.
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