Alle Kapitel von ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook: Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 6

"You're done, Isaac."The words hit like a puck to the sternum. I gripped the furs to my chest, propped on one elbow in the dim light of the den. Santiago Vega, the star Enforcer of the San Antonio Ice Arena, didn't even look back as he paced the stone floor of my quarters. He was six-foot-four of lethal muscle and silver-grey fur, currently shifting back into his human skin and pulling on leather trousers with predatory grace."Done?" I repeated. My throat felt like it was full of dry pine needles. "What are you talking about?""The Great Hunt starts tomorrow," Santiago said, sliding his jersey over his head—the one with the snarling wolf logo. "If I lead the pack to the Silver Cup, things are going to get feral. I can’t have a mate-bond slowing my stride."I sat up, the cold air biting at my bare skin. "You're severing this? Now?""We weren't exactly fated, Isaac," he had the nerve to growl while buckling his belt.I stared at him. For five moon-cycles, we had shared blood, heat, an

"Isaac," the mountain of a man rumbled, his voice vibrating through the chain-link fence and deep into Isaac’s marrow.Camila had managed to secure two passes to the San Antonio Ice Arena because a couple of her clients had zero interest in watching their husbands grunt over a puck. It cost the salon a year of complimentary grooming for their entire lineage. Isaac felt a brief pang for the husbands' friends who got bumped, but his desperation outweighed their weekend plans. Camila had offered to come, but Isaac didn't need both of them ending up in a silver-lined holding cell.Getting the tickets was the easy part. Infiltrating the team parking zone was a suicide mission. Isaac had slipped through before, but only when Derek Coleman was barking orders at the guards to let his "mate" pass.Today, for the series opener, the guard at the back gate was a stranger—short, blocky, and smelling of burnt coffee and suspicion. Isaac wove through a cluster of reporters, their phones out like dag

"Got identification?" The woman behind the glass didn't look up, her gaze fixed on the ledger through spectacles perched precariously on her nose."Right here. Grab the sign, Camila," Isaac said, shoving the massive glitter-crusted board into his friend's hands. He dug through his clear, regulation-size bag—a lesson learned the hard way after being turned away from a San Antonio Ice Arena match years ago. He flipped his wallet open, pressing his ID against the glass. "Isaac Corres. I should be on the list."The woman squinted, then slid a heavy, dark bundle through the tray. "Here. The passes are tucked inside. Instructions were very specific.""What is all this?" Isaac pulled the fabric toward him."A Warhawks jersey," she grunted, her mouth twisting. "Traitor.""Excuse me?" Isaac bristled, glancing at Camila, who was rocking a blue and yellow sundress—the best she could manage to show Bobcats pride on short notice. "We’re locals. Born and bred.""Then explain why the visiting Alpha