Julius’s pocket buzzes with my incoming text. I need his answer, but Nixie’s literally sitting between us. Questions and concerns pile up in my mind.
Julius
The sperm donor is here. I sent him packing, but we have a lot to discuss. No more texting. I don’t want to talk about this behind her back.
His text pops up, and I quickly put my phone away. For once, Julius is absolutely right. Nixie is a strong omega, and I don’t want to risk her wrath. Whatever comes next, we can’t shelter her, it won’t be appreciated. Though the future is uncertain, we’lldeal with it as a pack, overcome it as a pack, and hopefully bondas a pack.
“And for the final skill, we will complete a shootout. All players will cycle through five times to see how many goals they can score in a one-on-one scenario.” The crackle of the announcement makes my focus snap back to the exhibition.
When I glance at the lineup, it appears Asher will be the first to go. Nixie leans forward as far as she can, her eyes trained on her son in the center of the rink. At that moment, Asher peers into the stands, and excitement lights up his face when he spots us all cheering him on. Ash is leading the scores in the skill rounds so far, all that extra practice really showing. He enters the rink confidently—shoulders back, chin high—ready to take on his very best drill. Asher’s gaze locks with mine, and I nod and mouth, “You’ve got this," and he gives me a quick thumbs-up.
Yeah, he’s got this.
Our boy has scored against me in practice. Legitimately. So, the kid in the goal has no shot at defending against him.
Still, I can’t help but hold my breath as Asher takes off like a rocket. With the puck balanced perfectly on his stick, he flies down the ice, weaving right, then left before sending it sailing home. The light immediately goes off, and the goalie slams his stick against the ice.
Well, that’s rude.
The unsportsmanlike action doesn’t bother Asher at all. He’s already skating back to the end of the line, all business. The rest of the group moves through quickly, some scoring, some not, but looking at the other players on the ice, there are very few who are even close to Asher’s level.
When the next goalie replaces the first, the shootout begins again. This time, Asher glides slowly along the ice, taking time to wind this way and that, playing with the goaltender a bit before ripping his arm back and shooting a puck right throughthe goalie’s five-hole. The light goes off again, and I sense his confidence grow with every passing moment. If he wants to, our kid really could make it at a higher level. And this is just the start.
“I can’t believe how good he’s gotten. You two made this happen.” Nixie looks up at us gratefully. Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and her pride is practically glowing from her court.
“He did this by himself,” Julius jumps in, but I couldn’t agree more, and nod in agreement. “You raised an amazing kid. He’s driven, smart and, most of all, kind. He was taking the things we were teaching him, then going and helping the other kids. You don’t see things like that anymore."
“I just hope he knows how much I love him. How proud of him I am.” Nixie’s voice cracks, and it squeezes my heart. “To think I might lose him...”
Wrapping my arm tighter around her, I squish Nixie into my side, and a rumbling purr starts in my chest. It feels foreign and strange, but with my omega’s emotional turmoil, it’s right. The sound rattles out, melting her against me.
“We’re not going to let it come to that,” I promise.
Asher’s third shot goes sailing by the new goaltender, and then his fourth. All too soon, it’s the last shootout, and he squares up. Only one other player has gotten all four goals, and so now it’s down to the two of them.
One goal, and the winner takes all.
The excitement in the air has everyone jumping to their feet. rushing closer to the glass to see the ultimate moment.
With a cocky grin, Asher takes off, his skates cutting through the ice like a warm knife through butter. The determined glint in his eye has the goalie scared, anxiously shifting their weight from left to right. Asher clocks the motion, brings back his stick, and sends the puck flying into the corner hole. The audible ping as it hits the metal bar echoes throughout the stadium. There’s apause, then the red light goes off, and the arena erupts. Shouts, applause, and wolf whistles fill the space.
Doing my best to calm my racing heart, I reach for Nixie’s hand, pleased when she immediately slides her dainty fingers between my large ones, slotting us together like two pieces of a puzzle; we fit perfectly. Julius catches my eye, grinning, his hand is also intertwined with hers on the other side. A sense of rightness settles between us as we allow the victory to wash over us and begin and make our way toward the opening to congratulate Asher. The rest of the players continue taking their shots, but our minds are on only one thing.
Our son.
By the time we reach the gate, the shoot-off is complete, and I’m pretty sure Asher has won.
“Please wait while we tabulate all the results.”
Asher flies off the ice and throws himself at Nixie, hugging her with all his might. She staggers under the weight of his large frame, but Julius and I bolster our omega, making sure she doesn’t fall flat on her ass.
“I did it, Mom. I did it. I think I won.” Asher is talking so fast he can barely breathe, but Mama knows just what to do, embracing him so tightly that they meld together.
“You did, baby. Even if the results say you didn’t, you played so well. I’m so proud of you. No matter what, you’re the biggest winner I’ve ever met.”
Asher pulls back, then yanks off his gloves, and reaches for his chin strap, fumbling with the clip. Without hesitating, I help with his strap, and Julius removes the stuck helmet.
“I can’t believe how amazing you were,” Julius tells Asher, whose chest swells with pride.
