All Chapters of ICE- The Alpha’s Playbook: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"You just charged in here like a feral Alpha to mark territory you don't even own," Isaac said, the words cutting through the hum of the salon like a bone-handled blade.Santiago felt the heat of the 'Eclipse Lounge' cocktails from the night before turn into a leaden weight in his gut. He stood in the center of Bella Vida Salon, surrounded by the scent of expensive oils and silver hair, feeling like a monster that had forgotten how to wear human skin."I’m sorry, Isaac. That’s—I don't know where my head is." Santiago’s voice was a rough rasp. "I shifted into something irrational. Jealousy is a pathetic look for a man I just met yesterday."Isaac didn't stop sweeping. The rhythmic swish of the broom was the only sound. "Especially for a fake mate.""Fake. Right." Santiago's hands felt too large for his pockets. "No excuse for acting like a possessive prick. It's been years since I ran with anyone. I’m out of practice on what’s civil."Isaac bent low, sweeping the dark, trimmed fur into

"Did you catch the feed?" Camila asked, her voice hushed as the silver-haired Mrs. Delgado settled under the roaring dryer."What feed?" Isaac didn't look up from his shears."The one the entire San Antonio pack is howling about!" Camila scoffed at the blank stare he threw back. "You seriously haven't seen the clip Santiago posted on the network?""Santiago posted a clip?""Yeah.""Regarding what?" Isaac stopped mid-snip."You, Isaac. Just you.""Me?" Isaac’s heart thudded against his ribs. "Hand it over. My phone is charging in the back office.""Then your notifications are probably blowing up the building. Look." Camila flipped her screen, thumbing the volume toggle until Santiago’s gravelly, Alpha rasp filled the Bella Vida Salon. Isaac stood paralyzed as the deep vibration of the warrior’s voice echoed through the shop."Well?" Camila pressed once the screen went black.Isaac threw his hands up, nearly dropping his comb. "I can't believe he’s that reckless. He just invited every t

"I’m betting you didn't mean for that to sound quite so filthy." Isaac tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he scanned the star player’s face. "I have my own ways of staying occupied at night, Santiago. I don't need a professional athlete for everything."The truth was, the tension between them made Isaac’s skin itch. Ever since things ended with Derek, his bed had felt like a desert. Derek might have been a snake, but he was a high-ranking wolf who knew exactly how to pin a man down until he saw stars."I wasn't digging for your secrets, Isaac." Santiago raised his hands in a mock surrender."Good. Usually, I grab a burger on the way back to the salon. I eat alone, soak in a hot tub until my muscles stop screaming, and watch those kitchen slaughter shows where the Alphas yell at everyone. It's ironic. I can't even toast bread without burning the kitchen down, but I like watching the pressure.""I've seen those." Santiago grunted, leaning back. "Those tiny, delicate plates always offend

"I’m a total disaster," Isaac muttered, his voice dropping into the steam of his oversized coffee. "Dragging this out, almost letting Santiago knot me after waking up in his scent—it was reckless."Camila Ortiz leaned against the doorframe of the Bella Vida Salon, her eyes tracking the slow, pathetic circles Isaac was spinning in his stylist chair."You should be thanking the Moon he hit the brakes," Camila said, flicking on the overhead lights Isaac had ignored. "The man is a Star Player. He’s shifting out of San Antonio the second the final buzzer sounds. You would’ve woken up with a ruined bed and a hole in your chest the size of a puck.""I know." Isaac stared at the reflection of the salon windows. "Derek never had 'rules' about pre-game ruts. He just took what he wanted.""Morning to you too, sunshine," Camila chirped, ignoring the mention of the ex. "How was the feast at Casa Milano?""Fine.""Fine? You’re vibrating at a frequency that suggests 'fine' is a massive, steaming pil

"Get your asses on the bus, Vega," Coach Alejandro Ruiz barked, his voice cutting through the humid San Antonio night.Santiago didn't look back. He kept his stride steady toward the iron fence of the team parking zone. Every muscle in his legs burned from the sixty minutes of high-intensity slaughter he’d just delivered on the ice, but the ache in his chest was sharper. He hadn't just played a game; he’d hunted."Hell of a shift, Santiago," the coach added, catching up to him near the steps. "I guess the pack can stop worrying about their damn whiskers now. You proved the blade doesn't curse the stick.""Superstition is for the weak, Coach," Santiago muttered, his eyes scanning the dark perimeter."Maybe. But I like the fire I've seen in you this week. You finally stopped playing like a machine and started playing like a wolf. Whatever changed, keep it."Santiago knew exactly what had changed. It was the scent of pine and expensive shears. It was the memory of Isaac Corres’s fingers