Badass Ice Names Novels & Stories

The way she hadn’t pulled away immediately. He adjusted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat as another camera flash exploded across his vision. The team’s media coordinator finished introducing him, gesturing for the reporters to begin their questions. Hands shot up instantly. “Atticus, how are you preparing for the upcoming rivalry match?” He blinked, forcing himself back into focus. “Same way I prepare for every match,” he answered calmly. “Discipline. Training. Strategy.” His voice sounded steady. Controlled. Exactly how the public expected their Ice King to sound.

Every time I needed ice time and the only way to get it was to be someone I was not. The welcome assembly was loud and bright. Coach Merritt stood at the front with a clipboard and read out dorm assignments in a voice that expected no arguments. "Carter." He looked up. "You will be sharing a room with Bennett." From across the room, someone moved. He was tall. Broad shoulders. Eyes like cold water. He turned and found my face immediately like he already knew exactly where to look. Kai Bennett. I knew that name. Noah knew that name. Everyone in junior hockey knew that name. Kai Bennett who was fast and ruthless and had beaten Noah in three separate tournaments. Kai Bennett who had made it per

Ice. His real name was probably something boring, like Kevin, Steve or Donald, but Ice suited him perfectly. He was Lorenzo's second in command, apart from Lorenzo, he was another person who radiated pure, unadulterated menace without saying a word. He was ethereally handsome in a dangerous kind of way, like a fallen angel. Silvery-white hair, so pale it almost glowed, framed a face sculpted from marble. His eyes, the color of a winter storm, held no warmth, no flicker of humanity. A jagged scar bisected his face, running from his left temple to his cheekbone. The moment his gaze landed on me, those grey orbs turned glacial. Typical.

“She’d know.” “Naw,” Ice said, his cold blue eyes showing a rare glimpse of humanity. “Let’s fly solo on this one, boys. Let’s get the… musical spinning thingy."

I told him that I would think about it, but maybe I could handle it all who knows? Isaac looks at me with a grin. “Sooo, have you thought of names yet?” he asks me and I sit back, thinking about Sebastian and my conversation a few weeks ago. He wasn’t happy with the names I chose and I wasn’t happy with the ones he chose. It was like a total rollercoaster ride, so annoying. I groan, “Sebastian wants Ingrid if it’s a girl and Leonardo if it’s a boy, but those names are GHASTLY!” I moaned, complaining about the name choices, but this time I was doing it out loud. Isaac blanches and makes a vomiting gesture. “I, on the other hand, like the names Esmerelda and Marshall,” I say with pride, but Is

“ Deal! Now carry me. Please.” My left knee pressed against the soft snow as she jumps unto me, her soft giggles sounding in the air, making my heart flutter for some reason. Her arms circled my neck, her legs curling around my waist, her warm breath hitting my neck. “ Now let's go! Don't forget to carry Ice.” “ Who's Ice?” “ The dog obviously.” “ You named it Ice?” “ It's my dog, I can name it whatever I want.” “ That's true but why Ice?”

His ice-blue eyes scanned the room and stopped when he spotted the man he’d come to see. Matt ‘King’ Kingston was walking over to him and despite Ice’s military background, and his decade as an Enforcer for the Road Devils, and his large frame, he was briefly intimidated by King, just as he always was. It was such a fleeting feeling that it passed within a single heartbeat, but still – Ice never forgot who he was dealing with. Nobody did. “Ice.” King extended his ludicrously-large hand covered in thick silver rings and Ice shook it. “Good to see you.”

His eyes were already searching for the only person he came to the Hillary campus for. The moment he found him, his name slipped from his mouth like a quiet promise. “Noa.” His gaze locked onto the one thing that always gave him away. The bold letter C represents Captain, which was stitched proudly onto the chest of his jersey. Even from across the rink, he stood out effortlessly. He moved across the ice with calm precision, every stride smooth and controlled. His turns were sharp, his stops clean. When he passed the puck, it traveled exactly where it needed to go without hesitation.

Dammit, I'd like to know what it feels like to wake up in the morning and not have to worry about my safety. It's so haunting. I try to close my eyes for a bit, but my wolf is restless. It's incredible how even thinking about rejecting him makes me want to tear my own eyes out. Our bodies—or maybe our souls—want each other. Who would've guessed? The Alpha heir. The Ice Alpha, as he's called in the rink. The most arrogant playboy this pack has ever seen...is my mate. Me. Someone who's always been invisible and wanted peace.