005— EMPTY BLUE EYES.

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Anya's texts. “Kai Volkov. The Ice King. He hates the Silvercrest Pack. He can smell lies and weakness.”

By the time I got to the rink Friday morning, my nerves were shot.

"You look like you're about to throw up," Anya said when I walked into the locker room.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You've been weird since I texted you about the scrimmage." She studied my face. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just didn't sleep well."

She didn't look convinced but let it drop.

The locker room was buzzing with energy. Everyone was talking about the scrimmage. About Kai Volkov finally showing up after months of being gone.

"I heard he's brutal in practice," Mari said, lacing up her skates. "He doesn't go easy on anyone."

"I heard he can tell if you're lying just by looking at you," Sarah added. "Something about reading people's body language."

Great. Exactly what I needed.

"Alright, ladies, listen up!" Coach Petrov walked in, clipboard in hand. 

"Today's scrimmage is whites versus blues. Competitive but clean. Anya, Gaya, Mari—you're blues. That means you're playing against Kai's line."

My stomach dropped.

"Wait, he's playing against us?" I asked.

"That's what a scrimmage means, Morrison," Coach said. "Whites versus blues. Mixed teams. You got a problem with that?"

Yeah. A massive one.

"No, Coach."

"Good. Now get out there and show me what you've got."

The rink was packed. Word had spread that Kai Volkov was back, and apparently half the town wanted to see him play. 

The stands were full, people pressed against the glass, everyone buzzing with anticipation.

I skated onto the ice with the blues and took my position. The whites lined up across from us, and that's when I saw him.

Kai Volkov.

He was even more imposing than I'd expected. Six-four easily, broad shoulders, dark hair, and those ice-blue eyes that seemed to cut through everything they looked at. He moved with all controlled power and grace.

And he was staring directly at me.

Not at the others. At me.

My heart kicked into overdrive.

"Don't let him intimidate you," Anya muttered beside me. "He does this to everyone."

But this felt different. Personal. Like he could see straight through my disguise to the Silvercrest wolf hiding underneath.

The ref blew the whistle.

The puck dropped.

The game exploded into motion—fast, aggressive, nothing like the friendly scrimmages we usually ran. 

Kai's line moved like a unit, perfectly synchronized, and within the first five minutes, they'd scored twice.

I barely touched the puck before someone stripped it away.

"Faster, Morrison!" Coach yelled from the bench. "Stop thinking and just play!"

I tried. Goddess, I tried. But every time I got near Kai, my body went haywire. My heart raced. Something I didn't understand kept pulling at my chest like a hook.

Halfway through the first period, I finally got possession. I saw an opening and took it, racing toward the goal.

Then I felt him behind me. He was coming fast.

I tried to dodge but he was faster. His shoulder caught mine and the impact sent me spinning.

My skates went out from under me.

I was falling.

Then his arm locked around my waist.

Everything stopped.

His hand was firm against my waist, holding me upright. 

His face was inches from mine—close enough that I could see the silver flecks in his ice-blue eyes and the way his pupils dilated when our eyes met.

Heat flooded through me. Not the burning of the rejection mark. Something else. Something that made my breath catch in my throat.

The entire rink went silent.

His scent hit me. Pine, ice and lavender. Something that made my wolf—my silent, broken wolf, stir for the first time in three months.

His breathing went shallow and ragged immediately. 

His fingers tightened on my waist and I felt the way every muscle had gone taut like he was barely holding himself back from something.

The bond slammed into place.

Undeniable.

"Mate?" I whispered.

His eyes went wide with shock.

"Mate?" he said at the exact same moment, his voice rough and stunned.

Then his skate caught an edge.

We went down hard.

Him on his back, me sprawling across his chest. 

The impact knocked the air out of both of us but neither of us moved. His hands were still on my waist. My palms pressed against his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath them.

The bond pulled tighter, and for one insane second, I wanted to see if his lips felt as dangerous as the rest of him.

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

Heat flared in his gaze.

My breathing went ragged. We were both panting like we'd been running for miles.

"Get off," he growled, but his hands stayed where they were.

I couldn't move. I could only feel the bond pulling tighter and the way his eyes burned.

The crowd was murmuring now.

Then Kai's gaze dropped to my shoulder.

His entire expression changed.

From shock to something else. Something cold and disgusting.

He could see the rejection mark. Even through my jersey, he could see it.

He shoved me off hard and I hit the ice.

"Get away from me," he snarled, scrambling to his feet.

I stayed on the ground, stunned. My body was still humming from the contact.

But I'd never been good at staying down.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the way my legs shook. Ignoring the way everyone was staring.

He'd already turned away, skating toward the locker room.

Something in me snapped.

"Mate?" I called out loudly. 

My voice echoed across the silent rink. "You felt it too… you can't just walk away—"

He stopped and turned around slowly.

The entire rink was watching now. Both teams. The coaches.

Kai skated back toward me slowly. 

His ice-blue eyes were empty. 

When he reached me, he didn't stop. Just looked at me like I was something that disgusted him.

"What?" I demanded, my voice shaking.

"Say something. You felt the bond. You know what this means—"

He raised his voice so everyone in the rink could hear.

"I do not claim you and I refuse this connection."