Tyler.“Last chance to back out, Devil. She’s not worth ending what’s left of your career over,” Noah blurted out as he skated slow circles beneath the emergency lights.It was already midnight, and I had never dreaded anything the way I dreaded this fight.I knew Noah so well.He would never stop until he won.His stick kept spinning in his hands, and he had that same smirk glued to his face.The rink stayed locked and dark.There were no cameras or crowd. Just the scrape of blades and the heavy scent of two good hockey players ready to tear each other apart.I dropped my gloves, and they hit the ice with a soft slap.“Then stop talking and come get what’s left of your pride,” I fired at him, and he laughed.He charged in a snap, and the first collision was pure violence.I hit him so hard the boards rattled, and his stick snapped clean in half, the wood skittering across the ice.“That’s for framing her on live television,” I snarled, already swinging. “That is for every lie you fed
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