One Mate Was Never Enough

POV: Chloe

The entire arena shook with noise. Cheers thundered through the massive hockey stadium while bright lights flashed across the ice rink. The air smelled like cold ice, sweat, popcorn, and excitement, blending together into the kind of electric atmosphere that made your pulse race before the game had even truly begun. But none of that held my attention.

Only Ethan did...

I sat near the front row with Ethan’s jersey drowning my smaller frame, my fingers wrapped tightly around the railing as I watched him glide effortlessly across the ice during warm-ups.

God.

He looked unfairly good tonight. The black and silver team uniform hugged every inch of his powerful body perfectly, emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders and the thick muscles in his thighs. His dark hair was slightly damp already, falling messily over his forehead while he laughed at something one of his teammates said. Even from here, I could see the sharp confidence in his grin. The crowd loved him. No, obsessed over him.

“Number seventeen is so freaking hot,” one girl beside me whispered loudly to her friend. Another sighed dramatically.

“I’d let Ethan Blackthorn ruin my life, I’ll let him do with me as he pleased.” She said, and I nearly laughed.

“You and half the campus,” her friend replied, rolling her eyes. Further down the bleachers, some cheerleaders were openly staring at him too. One of them adjusted her top while watching him skate by, clearly hoping he’d glance her way. He didn’t, not once. Because Ethan’s eyes found me almost immediately.

Even across the crowded arena, his entire face lit up the second he spotted me in the stands. Heat bloomed instantly in my chest as he raised his hockey stick slightly toward me in acknowledgment, the corner of his lips lifting into that devastating grin that always made my stomach flutter. The girls around me groaned softly in jealousy.

“Oh my God, he’s looking at her again.”

“Does he ever stop staring at his girlfriend?”

“Nope,” another muttered. “He’s completely whipped.”

I smiled to myself, unable to deny the truth. Ethan loved me openly, fiercely, unapologetically. Sometimes I genuinely wondered how someone like him could exist. The announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, signaling the beginning of the championship finals. Instantly, the energy shifted, the crowd erupted. Players lined up. And Ethan...

God, Ethan transformed.

The playful, clingy boyfriend who constantly buried his face in my neck suddenly disappeared the moment the game started. In his place stood something dangerous, focused, predatory. My breath caught in my chest as he moved across the ice with terrifying speed, effortlessly weaving past opposing players like he was born for this. Every movement of his body was precise and controlled, his muscles flexing powerfully beneath the uniform as he handled the puck.

He looked less like a college athlete and more like a professional predator hunting prey. The crowd screamed when he slammed another player against the barrier hard enough to shake the glass. I bit my lip.

Hard!

Damn!

Maybe it was toxic of me, but watching Ethan play hockey did something dangerous to my brain. The aggression, the confidence, the raw strength behind every movement. It turned me on embarrassingly fast. My gaze shamelessly followed the flex of his arms each time he swung the hockey stick. The veins in his forearms stood out beneath the bright arena lights, and every sharp movement of his body sent heat curling lower in my stomach. I crossed my legs slowly.

Big mistake...

Because Ethan suddenly looked up, directly at me. His golden-brown eyes narrowed slightly. Oh no, his werewolf senses. I forgot how terrifyingly sensitive they were. Even from the ice rink, he could probably smell the change in my scent. A few seconds later, his deep voice suddenly echoed inside my head through the mind link.

“You naughty girl.” He groaned and my cheeks burned instantly, and I lowered my head slightly, hiding my smile.

“Quit teasing me with your scent,” Ethan continued, his tone rough with amusement and desire.

“Or I’m coming over there right now.” He threatened. I bit back a laugh and said,

“You’re playing the finals, Ethy.”

“I know,” he replied instantly through the link.

“Which is why you should stop imagining filthy things while watching me pin grown men against walls.” He scolds gently. I nearly choked, heat flooded my face as I glanced around to make sure nobody could somehow hear him.

“Cocky wolf.” I teased, rolling my eyes. He grinned wickedly from the rink after clearly sensing my embarrassment. Then he played even harder, almost aggressively. Like he suddenly needed the game over as quickly as possible. The opposing team didn’t stand a chance.

Within minutes, Ethan stole the puck again, skating down the rink with breathtaking speed before slamming the winning shot directly into the net. The arena exploded, the final whistle blew loudly overhead. His teammates shouted and tackled each other excitedly while the crowd roared with celebration. But Ethan barely reacted because his eyes were already searching for me again.

The second he spotted me standing near the railing, something possessive flashed across his face. Then he disappeared from the celebrating crowd entirely. I barely had time to process it before strong arms suddenly wrapped around my waist from behind. I gasped softly.

“Miss me?”

I turned instantly, laughing breathlessly as Ethan lifted me completely off the ground. His body radiated heat beneath the hockey gear, his chest rising heavily from exertion while sweat dampened the collar of his uniform. And yet he still looked devastating.

“You were amazing,” I whispered honestly. Ethan groaned softly against my neck before kissing me hard enough to steal my breath completely. The kiss was desperate, hungry, and possessive. The crowd around us blurred into meaningless noise.

“You’re killing me, Chloe,” he muttered roughly against my lips.

“You have no idea what you were doing to me out there.” He said. I smiled innocently.

“I was just watching the game.”

“Liar.” His hand tightened against my waist.

“I could smell you from the ice.” He groaned. My entire body heated instantly, Ethan’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at my reaction. Without another word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowded hallways beneath the stadium.

“Ethan,” I laughed softly, struggling to keep up in my boots.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He said, pulling me along. The deeper we moved into the restricted hallway, the quieter it became. Then Ethan suddenly opened a door and pulled me inside before locking it behind us. I blinked in surprise, it was the coach’s office. A couch sat in the corner beside a cluttered desk, and championship banners covered the walls. Ethan immediately crowded me backward until my spine touched the door.

“Coach is busy celebrating our victory,” he said roughly, his forehead resting against mine.

“Which means we have this office all to ourselves, cupcake.” The nickname alone nearly melted me. His hands slid possessively along my waist before settling on my hips.

“You wore my jersey tonight knowing exactly what it does to me,” he accused softly. I smiled teasingly.

“Maybe I wanted your attention.”

“You already own all of it.” The raw honesty in his voice made my chest tighten. Ethan kissed me again, slower this time but somehow even more dangerous. Every touch carried restrained hunger, his large hands gripping my waist like he physically couldn’t stand being apart from me any longer.

Outside the office, the team’s celebration echoed faintly through the hallway. But inside this room, it felt like only the two of us existed. And judging by the way Ethan looked at me right now, I was pretty sure he planned on keeping it that way for a while.