The Blade is already shaking when Elias pushes through the door.The bar erupts the second the team walks in—chanting, beer sloshing, the highlight reel from last night's win looping on every screen. The bouncer doesn't even check them. He just steps aside and grins."Elias does it all," someone shouts from the back."You mean he handles it all," Lucas fires back, waggling his eyebrows."Shut your mouth," Elias says, without heat.The team's usual table is already cleared and waiting—a long stretch of carved wood near the center of the room, engraved with past players' names. Elias's signature sits dead center, like it was always supposed to be there.Ben, the bar owner, appears with a full tray of beers before they've even settled in. "First round's on me. That shorthanded goal last night—God, Elias, it looked like you were showing off."Elias takes his glass, tips it back, lets the cold slide down his throat. A drop catches at his collarbone and he doesn't bother with it."I was," h
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