(Damian’s POV)
So. We lost the first game of the championship.
And from the looks of it, Logan had lost the game purposely. He swerved left when he was supposed to swerve right. It was a simple strategy that every player was supposed to know. Damnit.
The crowd’s roar was still ringing in my ears whenI left the arena. Logan had purposely humiliated me, but why? This was supposed to pay off only for it to slip away because Logan Cross couldn’t follow orders.
My wolf snarled at me in the back of my skull. You wanted him. I shoved the thought down. Logan was a wildcard, brilliant one second and infuriating the next. If he weren’t so goddamn magnetic on the ice, I would’ve benched him already. But the sponsors had tied their millions to his name. My empire depended on him.
That truth sat bitter on my tongue as I stalked into the private corridors, sweat cooling on my temples. Marcus was waiting for me by the exit. His face was too still. My beta never wore that expression unless the news was bad.
“What is it?” I asked.
He glanced down the hall, then back at me. “We need to talk but not here.”
I stiffened. The way he said it told me enough, that the problem wasn’t hockey. It's my pack.
“Say it,” I demanded. Sometimes, it was hard being Alpha.
Marcus hesitated,“David’s body was found an hour ago. But he was ripped open, and we found Silver still lodged in his wounds. David’s dead, and he was killed by someone who knows silver is dangerous to us.”
Fuck. I muttered under my breath. David was loyal and he was one of the wolves who had stood by my side since my father’s death and a killing like that hadn't happened in Chicago for decades.
“Who?”
“We don’t know. But the others…” Marcus’s jaw tightened. “They’re saying it’s on you.”
The words hit harder than the loss on the ice.“On me?” I snapped. “I didn’t swing the blade.”
“You know the law,” Marcus said quietly. “When a wolf dies, the blood is on his Alpha’s hands. Protection is you if you fail, it means the pack isn’t safe under you.”
My wolf bristled, he was furious. They dare blame us? We are Alpha. But they weren’t wrong. I had been distracted and I’d missed meetings and delayed certain rituals because I’ve been spending way too many nights pacing my glass office, watching Logan Cross skate circles around my control.
“Who’s stirring it?” I asked.
“Elias.” Marcus’s lips curled. “He’s already whispering that you’ve lost your edge. That you’re too… consumed.”
I swore under breath again. Elias had always been ambitious, circling like a vulture, but this gave him teeth. By consumed, they meant Logan. They could smell it on me, even if they didn’t understand what it was. My wolf’s fixation wasn’t something I could hide forever. Especially since I discovered that Logan smelled like my mate.
And I hated him for it.
Claiming him would make me stronger, and cement my place as Alpha. But Logan wasn’t some nameless wolf I could bite and bind. He was human, or so I thought. He wasn’t a gift, he was a curse.
Marcus’s voice broke through my thoughts. “The pack’s gathering tomorrow night. They’ll want answers. You need to remind them who their Alpha is. If you don’t—”
“They’ll challenge me,” I finished, my teeth grinding.
He didn’t counter it. For a moment I thought of David’s lifeless body, of silver piercing through flesh, of Elias licking his lips at the chance to usurp me. And the thought of being in David’s place.
And then, Logan’s face rose in my mind. His cocky smile, and his green eyes flashing like knives, the way my wolf went silent the instant he was near, not with fear but recognition that he was my mate.
I cursed under my breath.
Marcus tilted his head. “What is it?”
I almost told him. I almost confessed that the reason my attention had slipped, the reason I was weaker, was because the gods had tied me to a man who despised me. But if I said it aloud, it would become real.
Instead I said, “Nothing. Get Elias off my back. I’ll deal with the pack.”
Marcus studied me, and I could see the suspicion in his eyes, but he nodded. As he walked away, I leaned back against the wall and dragged in a breath. My wolf prowled beneath my skin. He is ours. Claim him. Or lose everything.
“Shut up.” I whispered harshly back.
******
The meeting smelled like blood and anger. My wolves crowded into the warehouse, restless bodies shifting, claws dragging against concrete, teeth flashing when they thought I wasn’t looking. Too many eyes on me. One death, and the pack was already turning on itself.
David’s body wasn’t even cold, and still they whispered. The Alpha is distracted. The Alpha’s lost his edge.
It was all bullshit. But dangerous bullshit.
I stood at the center of my wolves, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, my suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled back. Power came from control, and right now control was slipping through my fingers.
Elias Drake leaned casually against a pillar at the edge of the circle, his smile razor-thin. He hadn’t challenged me, at least not yet. But I could smell his anticipation. He was waiting for the right excuse.
Marcus, my beta, cleared his throat beside me. “Brothers, sisters,” he said, his voice firm. “We are wolves, not scavengers, and David’s death will be avenged, but we do not tear our own Alpha apart in grief.”
One of the younger wolves, Jasper, snarled. “Avenged? By who? He’s been too busy playing hockey boss to notice hunters in our streets. Maybe he killed David with his negligence.”
I stepped forward, and I let my wolf bleed into my voice. “Watch your tongue before I rip it out.”
The room quieted, but it was the kind of quiet that felt like it was going to snap into two.
Elias finally spoke. “The boy’s not wrong, Blackwell. You’ve been distracted. Playing dress-up with humans, signing contracts, chasing money. Where’s the Alpha we pledged ourselves to?”
My wolf surged, begging to tear out his throat. Instead, I smiled thinly. “Still here. You want to test me, Elias? Try it. But we both know you’re a coward.”
A rumble of approval, but not enough. The wolves were still restless. Still hungry for something I hadn’t given them. Marcus leaned in, his voice just for me. “They need strength. You know what you have to do. Give it to them.”
The word burned on my tongue before I spoke it. “Mate.” The shift in the room was instant. Every wolf stilled. Every head turned. Even Elias’s smile faltered.
A mate meant power and stability. It would be proof that the Moon Goddess still favored her Alpha. It was the one thing they couldn’t argue with.
Marcus’s eyes flicked to mine. He hadn’t expected me to say it aloud, not tonight. But it was the only card I had left.
“Yes,” I said, letting the word anchor me. “The Goddess has chosen. I have a mate.”
The pack erupted into loud growls, laughter, and snarls of disbelief.
“Who?” Jasper demanded with suspicion. “Who ties themselves to you?”
Elias stepped forward, circling me like a viper. “Yes, Blackwell. Tell us. Who is this mysterious soul who’ll save your crumbling reign?”
My throat went dry.
Logan’s face flashed in my mind. Green eyes lit with defiance, that cocky smirk he wore like armor but he was human, and that was a problem. How could it be that my mate was human? I still didn’t understand it myself but my wolf was sure. Yet my wolf whispered with brutal certainty. Logan is our mate. He is Mine.
I clenched my fists behind my back, nails cutting into my palms. If I said his name, they’d tear him apart before sunrise. If I lied, they’d smell it.
Marcus’s voice cut into my thoughts. “Alpha. Who is your mate?”
Every eye was on me. They were all waiting. I opened my mouth and froze. For how could I tell them that it’s Logan, who’s a human?
“I will present him to you before the next moon ritual.” I heard myself say, but the next ritual was only a month away.
Logan stayed.That was the answer he’d given Julian, not in words, but in the way he’d walked out of that locker room after Julian’s offer. No amount of smooth talking or fat checks had pulled him away. He chose me.And I hated how much that mattered.Because he hadn’t chosen me, not really. He’d chosen the Phantoms. The ice. The chance to prove himself against me, under me. He wanted the war, not the man.And still my wolf pretended like he’d been claimed.The league assembly the next week dragged on way too long. Sponsors went on and on regarding branding, overseas streams, and performance provision. But I still hadn’t gotten over the fact that Julian had tried to steal my star player.I gritted my jaw in place, pretending to listen while my wolf grew restless. At the opposite end of the ancient oak table, Logan was perched, his pressed suit out of place on his rough build. Somehow his hair managed to look messy, and a part of me itched to bury my fingers in it.When the meeting fin
Logan’s Pov“Logan!! Over here!!!”Reporters shoved microphones in my face, lights flashing like we’d won the goddamn cup. We hadn’t. We’d lost. Again.Still, I grinned, because the sting of defeat was nothing compared to the pleasure of poking Damian Blackwell right where it hurt.A journalist cleared her throat. “Logan, how do you feel about working under an owner like Damian Blackwell?”The smart move would’ve been a generic answer, which would be something about teamwork, learning the system, blah blah. But being smart wasn’t fun.I leaned into the mic, a mischievous smile on my face. “Finally,” I said, loud enough for the back row to hear, “He’s a damn pain.”The locker room was nearly empty when I walked in, the acrid sting of sweat and disinfectant lingering in the air. I pulled my jersey off, dropping it on the bench, chest still heaving from the game.“You have fun embarrassing me, don't you?” Damien’s voice pulled straight down my spine. I stiffened for a moment before I tur
(Damian’s POV)So. We lost the first game of the championship.And from the looks of it, Logan had lost the game purposely. He swerved left when he was supposed to swerve right. It was a simple strategy that every player was supposed to know. Damnit.The crowd’s roar was still ringing in my ears whenI left the arena. Logan had purposely humiliated me, but why? This was supposed to pay off only for it to slip away because Logan Cross couldn’t follow orders. My wolf snarled at me in the back of my skull. You wanted him. I shoved the thought down. Logan was a wildcard, brilliant one second and infuriating the next. If he weren’t so goddamn magnetic on the ice, I would’ve benched him already. But the sponsors had tied their millions to his name. My empire depended on him.That truth sat bitter on my tongue as I stalked into the private corridors, sweat cooling on my temples. Marcus was waiting for me by the exit. His face was too still. My beta never wore that expression unless the news
(Logan’s POV)Three months earlier…I was exactly where I wanted to be. I glanced at the contract, and then back at Damien who was staring me down. I leaned back in my chair, tapping the pen against my knee and watched contentedly as Damien and two of his players, (probably his closest men) twitched uncomfortably.I was taking my sweet time to sign the contract, and they didn’t know what to do with me, the star player who was too arrogant to fit in. But I wasn't here to make friends.I was here to carve a wound. My signature slid across the last page, and I leaned back with a smile. “Welcome to the Chicago Phantoms, Mr. Cross,” one of the executives said.Damian Blackwell towered a few inches above me, and he controlled the way other men wore clothes, and I was here to take revenge and ruin him. The press conference was a circus and my cameras flashed, reporters shouted, and I sat at the table in a fresh jersey, with number twenty-seven blazing across my chest.“Logan, you’ve had offe
(Damian’s POV)I had never hated hope more than I did when Logan Cross touched the puck.From my glass box above the rink, I could see the s blades carving the ice, the red-and-white blur of jerseys, the breath of twenty thousand fans fogging up the rafters. And him. Always him.Logan was a brash, reckless twenty-two year old with curly hair that refused to stay down and green eyes that were as sharp as glass, and he had the kind of arrogance that made people lean into him even though they silently despised him. But he had the right to be arrogant, because he was the best hockey player in the country.I had staked everything on that arrogance for my team.The Chicago Phantoms weren’t just my team,they were also mixed in with members of my pack. Our championship run was tied directly to the biggest sponsorship deal in league history with Titan Energy. If we didn’t win, if Logan didn’t deliver… then the deal collapsed, and with it, the illusion of control I had built since inheriting my