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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.POV: Chloe The silence that followed had a quality I recognised from the moment before a storm breaks, that held and breathless pause before the sound arrives.Tristan looked at Riley for a long, unhurried moment. Something moved through his expression that I could only describe as the particular stillness of a man who has just heard something so poorly calculated that it briefly moves past frustrating and into something else entirely."You want to fight me," Tristan said."I am challenging you.""Do you understand what you are challenging?""I understand exactly what I am challenging." Riley's jaw was set hard. "Do you accept or not?"I stepped in front of Tristan, which required him to either stop or walk straight through me. He stopped."Riley." I looked at my cousin, my only remaining family member, my blood, the man Ella had spent days turning against me like a tool she had sharpened for this specific purpose. "What did she promise you? Tell me. Whatever she offered, I w
POV: Chloe I knocked twice on Riley's door.The same door I had watched Ella walk out of two hours ago, still wearing the particular satisfaction of someone who has placed a piece exactly where she wanted it. I stood in front of it now with Tristan on my right and Ethan on my left, and felt the specific feeling of walking toward something I could not entirely control with the two most dangerous people I knew standing beside me like walls on either side.The door opened.Riley had clearly just come from the shower, towel at his waist, water still tracing lines down his chest, hair damp and dark. He looked at me first, then registered Tristan, then Ethan, and I watched the sequence move across his face, surprise, then the quick reassembly of pride, then the smirk that followed when he had decided how to frame what he was seeing."Cousin." His eyes moved over the three of us slowly, with the look of someone who has already made up his mind. "I underestimated you. You know you canno
POV: Chloe He held me like that for a long moment, his face buried in my hair, breathing me in slowly, and through the bond I felt what he was not saying out loud, all three days of it, the reaching and the distance and the quiet, contained fear of a man who does not frighten easily but had been frightened anyway."You came," I said into his chest. My voice came out smaller than I intended."We came," Ethan said from just behind me, and then his arms wrapped around me from behind, warm and solid and completely real, and I was held between both of them on the stone path in the grey dawn light, and the three days of being alone dissolved so quickly I could not quite breathe through it."I told you not to follow," I said. It came out with none of the firmness I had planned."You did," Tristan said."I meant it.""I know you meant it." His hand moved through my hair, slow and deliberate. "I came anyway."Ethan's lips brushed the side of my neck just below my ear, the gentlest, wa
POV: Chloe I decided to talk to him directly.It was, I admitted to myself in the quiet of the borrowed room on the third morning, probably not my smartest move. Elder Marcus had advised patience. Elixir had been unusually quiet on the subject, which I chose to read as neutrality rather than doubt. The senior pack women who had gathered around me as an informal support group exchanged a particular look when I laid out my plan, the look of people who have a strong opinion and have decided not to say it out loud.But three days had passed and I was no closer to understanding why Riley's dislike of my presence felt personal in a way that pack politics alone could not explain. The combat hour was this morning. I had not yet formally given up my claim. And something in me needed to try one more conversation before I let lawyers and law decide everything.I walked to Riley's quarters at dawn.The settlement was quiet at this hour, that particular held-breath stillness that sits betwee
POV: Chloe Riley was taller than I'd expected.I don't know why I had built a picture of him in my head, maybe because Elder Marcus had spent the previous evening giving me carefully chosen information that I had been turning into something, the way you piece a person together from fragments before you actually meet them. What I had built was someone older, heavier, more obviously intimidating.What I met in the council chamber the following morning was a man maybe five years older than me, lean and sharp-faced, with the kind of energy that comes from someone who has been in charge long enough that power has stopped feeling like something he carries and started feeling like something he simply is. He stood at the head of the long stone table with his hands behind his back and looked at me the way you look at a problem you have already named and are deciding what to do with.The council chamber held seven elders, including Marcus, seated along the table with the stiff posture of
POV: Chloe All those years wondering why my wolf wouldn't come. All those years being told I was empty, that something in me was missing or broken or simply absent. It had never been missing. It had been waiting, the way Elder Marcus and this whole settlement had been waiting, for the right moment, the right proof, the right place to finally make sense.I wasn't ordinary. I never had been. I was something else entirely, something that had a name and a history and three hundred people who'd kept a light on for it for over a century.Then Elder Marcus brought me the journal.Not that journal, not the one Ella had taken, the original. A second one. Smaller, older, its leather gone dark with handling, the pages thick and slightly wavy with age."A copy," he said, setting it on the table beside me. "Made before your great-grandmother left. She took the original with her. We kept the copy, just in case." He looked at the book the way you look at something that's finally being used for







