Twin Aces: Claimed by the Alpha Captain (MM Romance) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

Lucian POV The doors to the penthouse closed behind us. The city noise stopped. The room was silent. I leaned back on the wood. I was breathing hard. My hands were still cold from the rain. My skin was hot under my grey sweater.Orion put his keys on the stone table. They made a noise. He didn't turn on the lights. He stood in the shadows. His big body blocked the kitchen. He listened to me breathe. I could smell his leather jacket. It smelled like cedar and winter air.I opened my coat. "It is over," I said.Orion walked to me. His boots didn't make a sound on the rug. I felt him coming. He stopped close to me. His shadow covered me. His jaw was tight. A muscle was moving near his ear. He put his hand on the wall beside my head."It is just starting," he said.

Lucian POVI stood on the ice, my skates on the rubber mats. The moment I stepped onto the rink, the cold air hit me like a slap. It was a feeling that burned my lungs and cleared my head. Above me, twenty thousand people were screaming. The sound was deafening. It shook the entire arena.I looked down at my jersey. I felt good. I felt alive. There were no fake medical files or chemical blockers in my system. My skin felt hot and alive under the padding.Orion skated up beside me. He was a guy with a heavy blade. He cut a line into the ice, spraying frost against my shin guards. He did not look at me away. He kept his eyes on the team, the Boston players. They were moving in a circle, getting ready for the game."They will come at us fast," Orion said. His voice was low and rough."Let them," I said. I was ready.I adjusted my gloves, pulling the straps tight. My hands were steady. My heart was beating fast like a drum. I felt a pressure beneath my equipment, a reminder of what happen

Orion POVThe scoreboard in the Boston Garden was not lying. We were down by a goal in the period of Game 3, and it felt like the air inside the rink was thick with dust and exhaust. Game 2 had been tough; this game felt like a funeral.I leaned on the plastic of the boards, my chest heaving under the sweaty layers of my jersey. Next to me, Lucian sat with his elbows on his knees. His knuckles were white where his gloves met his stick. His face was pale, with grease paint smudged under his eyes, and his mouth was open as he tried to catch his breath. I reached down. Put my hand on the back of his neck for a brief second. His skin was really hot. The fast beat of his pulse at his throat was a reminder of the secret he was hiding under his chest guard."They are not checking," Lucian said. His voice was rough and barely audible over the crowd. "They are just... there.""It's a trap," I said. I kept my eyes on the ice, watching the Boston second line clog the zone like a wall. "They lear

Lucian POVThe water was too hot. I could not move. It hit my shoulders hard, turning my skin red. A deep, cold ache stayed locked inside my bones. My forehead rested against the tile wall of the shower. The white grout was stained with soap scum near the drain. Everything smelled like copper, sweat, and bleach.We lost. The scoreboard went dark minutes ago. The numbers 2-1 were still in my eyes.I reached down. Pressed my palm flat against the slick tiles to steady myself. My knees shook. A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach, heavy and hollow. It was not the loss. It was the weight. My chest guard lay outside the stall. My lungs still felt compressed, trapped by fatigue so bad it made my eyelashes feel heavy.My left hand went to my stomach, fingers spreading over the firm swell beneath my ribs.Nothing.Panic, sharp and icy, pierced through the exhaustion. I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath catching in my throat as the hot spray blinded me. "Move," I whispered into the steam.

Lucian POVThe medical room smelled like wintergreen rub and old ice. I sat on the edge of the high training table, my bare legs hanging down. The vinyl under my thighs felt cold, a sharp contrast to the heat still trapped in my chest. Orion stood by the counter, his frame blocking the small sink. He wrung out a cloth, his knuckles white against the fabric.My hand stayed flat against my ribs. The pulse was quiet. Stable. The initial fear from the ice had shrunk to a knot in my throat, but I was still tired. It felt like sand in my joints."Your color is back," Orion said. He walked over. Put the damp cloth on the back of my neck.The chill made my shoulders drop. "The ice was too long," I said, looking at the scuff marks on the floor. "Forty minutes against a trap. My legs died in the period.""Anton planned it," Orion said. He leaned against the table, close enough that his arm brushed my shoulder. "He put his line on you every time you crossed the red line. Three men in your shadow