جميع فصول : الفصل

The arena stood dark and empty when we arrived, championship banners hanging limp in the storm. Zane picked the service door lock in seconds. We slipped inside, flashlights cutting through shadows that smelled of cold ice and old sweat.The rink itself was silent, the surface freshly Zambonied, gleaming under emergency lights. Zane led us straight to the penalty box.He knelt and pried up the bench seat with brute strength. Wood splintered. Beneath it was a metal trapdoor, chained and padlocked.I shifted my hand just enough for claws to slice through the lock like butter.Cold air breathed up from below.Stairs spiraled down into darkness.We descended single file, Darius bringing up the rear with two armed guards. The temperature rose as we went deeper, the air growing thick and humid. Fluorescent bulbs flickered overhead, casting sickly light on concrete walls covered in old graffiti and pack symbols.At the bottom stretched a long tunnel lined with chain link cages.Inside the cag