MasukThat look.The kind that came from somewhere below language. "Walking you to your room."I turned and started down the hallway before my face could do something I'd regret.This hotel was one of my favorites black and white checkered floors, low dramatic lighting, the kind of moody elegance that felt borrowed from a different era. The corridor was wide enough for three people shoulder to shoulder.With Theo directly behind me, it felt like a corridor built for one.I found my room number, stopped, and reached back for my bag.He didn't hand it over immediately.I turned around.He was closer than I'd registered close enough that I had to tilt my chin slightly to meet his eyes. He was looking at me with that expression he'd been wearing all evening the one I couldn't parse, the one that lived in the contested territory between anger and something rawer and less safe."Theo." My voice ca
Congratulations, Captain. Now step down quietly, or what I know about your goalie goes public by midnight. Silence pressed through the bus like a held breath no one dared release. âAlright. That settles it. Cassian stays captain of the Silverfang until further notice.â A few nods. No argument. No hesitation. But my mind wasnât on any of it. âWhy did you do that?â I finally asked, eyes fixed on the road as I drove toward St. Josephâs Womenâs Hospital. My grip tightened on the wheel. âWas it because â âI didnât do it because I love you.â The words hit like a clean strike to the chest. Not a crack. A full collapse. Something inside me didnât just break it scattered, fine and irretrievable, like glass turned to dust. And the worst part? The way he said it so casually. Like it meant nothing. Like I meant nothing. Except I did feel it. That was the sick, unbearable part. I
She appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her face had done something complicated surprise folding into something softer and more careful. "Theodore." Her voice was different now. Quieter. "There's someone here for you." I stood slowly. "Who?" She hesitated just a half-second, just enough and stepped aside. And my heart stopped completely. Because it wasn't Theo. It was his mother. Theo Cassian pov Dallas was eating us alive. One goal down since the first period, and we were falling apart in real time scrambling, sloppy, yelling at each other across the ice like a high school team that hadn't practiced in a month. Coach was on the sideline with his eyes practically leaving his skull. Jasper our captain, the man who was supposed to be holding this together was somewhere else entirely in his head. I wasn't much better. Because Vincent was in goal. Vincent my Vincent, though he didn't know that yet and might never was standing between the pipes while some of the most d
He was at the stove when I came out of my room. Back turned, shoulders relaxed no tension that I could read, no storm gathering. Give it a minute, I told myself. It's coming. "Morning." He didn't look up. "Made eggs. Want some?" "Thanks." I sounded like a man who'd swallowed gravel. I cast around for the standard morning pleasantry. Eventually: "Sleep okay?" He turned. His eyes hit me open and honest and so painfully unguarded that my chest did something I didn't authorize. "Not really," he said simply. "Lot to process. And I was worried about you." "I'm fine." He didn't believe me. He smiled anyway slower than usual, eyes closing more than normal, lids a little pink and heavier than they should have been. I did that. I made him look like that. Something violent moved through me. He plated the toast with quiet precision, selected the two best eggs sunny-side up, yolk centered, whites even and slid them across the spatula onto the bread like it mattered. Like I mattered. Ha
My mind scrambles backward. That was before I ever said anything out loud. Before I even knew what I was to myself. Theo nods once. âYeah. In his car. Right after I told him. That was the first thing out of his mouth.â His gaze sharpens on me. âHe already knew about you, Vin.â A chill crawls up my spine. âAnd itâs the only thing he ever asked of me,â Theo continues. âThe only boundary. Donât mess with you.â I shake my head slightly. âThat doesnât â âIt does,â he cuts in, voice lower now. He looks away like it hurts to hold my eyes. âBecause he knows me. Knows where I come from. Knows what Iâm capable of when things get complicated.â A pause. Then it lands. âHe thinks Iâm not good enough for you.â The words hit like something heavy and sharp at the same time. âIâll ruin it,â Theo says quietly. âIâll mess it up. Iâll hurt you.â My chest tightens as if the air just turned solid. âYou wanted to know what Nate is to me?â he asks after a beat. I donât answer. Theo exhales. â
He'd been surviving.And then my phone lit up on the cushion beside me.A message from my brother.Nate: Don't let him tell you it's fine. It was never fine. And Dad knew. He knew the whole time."There were two versions of my dad."Theo's voice was controlled. Practiced. The voice of someone who'd learned early that feelings were a liability."I called them the Coleders. Light and dark." He didn't look at me. "Light meant he'd drunk himself into something almost bearable stumbling, laughing, harmless enough. Dark meant " He stopped. Jaw tight. "Dark meant you cleared the room."He picked at the cuticle on his thumb now, the couch seam abandoned."When it went dark, I'd hold out as long as I could for my mom. But when it got bad enough, I'd bail. Show up at your place. Nate's floor, usually. A few weeks would pass, and then my dad would notice I was gone and come drag me back." His mouth twisted. "I always went quietly. Couldn't stand the idea of him making a scene on your doorstep.
Tyler Bennett povWe lost again.The bus ride to the airport was deathly silent, the kind of quiet that presses against your chest and refuses to let go. Nobody spoke. Earbuds in, overhead lights dead. The hum of the engine was the only sound, and it felt like it was echoing the hollowness inside a
Luca Moretti povIf fuck around and find out had a face, it would be mine.Same mouth. Same nose. Same body built for bad decisions. Same hardheaded stupidity that refuses to learn even when the lesson comes with teeth. Iâve done this before donât get it twisted. I know this road. I know the ending
Tyler Bennett povThere’s a persistent tapping at my door, soft at first, dragging me from the edge of sleep like a cruel hand. My eyes crack open, nothing. I drift back, only to be yanked out again. Three, four times now. Knuckles rapping against wood, steady, relentless. Who the he
Tyler Bennett povWe land in Vancouver, the city lights slicing through the dusk like knives. The bus waits, humming, ready to take us to the hotel. Tomorrow’s a matinee, which means the second we finish, we’re back in the air. My chest tightens with that familiar, electric ant







