“Twenty-five,” I replied distractedly, thinking about how little we really knew. “She lied in her trial in the hopes they would go easier on her.”
“And she’s a liar. Fucking figures.” He muttered it under his breath, but I heard him.
Shooting him a droll stare, I shook my head. “Come on. She was on trial for her life. I’d have lied about every part of me, even the shit they could plainly see, if I thought it would save my life. I don’t think you can judge her from that one mistruth.”
“What about the fact that she doesn’t want anything to do with us, and has rejected the pack’s very generous offers without giving any of us a chance? Can I judge her for that?”
I understood why he was upset; it fucking hurt when she iced us out or got that wild, frantic look in her eyes that betrayed her dream of escaping.
But there was a reason for it.
“She’s running from more than just us,” I said softly, rubbing my hand over the ache in my chest that popped up whenever I thought of her. “It’s trauma, and she has it in spades. Her hyper independence comes from the fact that she’s never had anyone to rely on, and I’m guessing the few times she did in her life, it blew up in her face, badly. So… no, I don’t know her story yet, but I see the essence of Emme, and her essence is pure. Don’t write her off yet.”
He was quiet until a long sigh escaped him. “Trauma I understand.”
I felt him mull over my gentle plea during the rest of the drive.
The rink was quiet when we entered via the players’ entrance. I continued to let Finley have his thoughts as we changed into our training gear. I checked my phone before we headed out onto the ice, but there was still no activity in the group chat. At least Emme had responded to my separate message apologizing this morning.
Otherwise, I’d be driving to the restaurant to beg on my knees until she forgave me.
Shoving the phone into the locker, I followed my pack brother out onto the freshly Zamboni’d ice. The scent in the air reminded me of home, growing up in Thorny Gardens, and the long winter months out on the lake beside our house.
My family was nothing like Fin’s, but we did have a similar means of escaping life’s woes. That, along with the fact that we were the youngest alphas in the pack meant we’d bonded a little closer.
Hunter was our leader, and Slade would destroy any fucker who touched our pack, but neither of them were particularly warm. Those two dominant assholes understood each other on a whole other level that Fin and I were excluded from.
“Want to race?” I asked after we’d done some warmup laps.
Fin shook his head. “I swear you get worse every day with having to speed through life. You’re downright reckless during our Sunday—” Mid-sentence he took off, and cursing, I flew after him, my laughter echoing around the rink.
We were evenly matched for a few circuits, but I’d always been a touch lighter and more agile on the ice. By the time we were done, though, both of us were fucked.
“It’s almost like Coach is here,” I gasped as I sucked down water like it was my lifeline.
“Exactly like it,” a gruff voice said, above where we sprawled across the ice.
I jerked my head up to find Coach sitting in home bench, staring down at us. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, but his expression was soft. For him anyway. “What are you two doing here on your day off? Don’t think I’ll go any easier on you tomorrow.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Fin groaned and pushed himself up to his skates once more. “We’re just working out our demons.”
Coach’s eyes glazed over, and I was reminded of his loss. One of his quintet fell in the last real pack city battle. A group of rogues had come together to try to take down the shifter councils, and with the help of an ambitious witch they’d almost succeeded.
Fifteen years wasn’t enough time to ease the darkness in Coach’s eyes—no years would be enough.
“It’s cathartic for sure.” His voice broke before he cleared his throat. “I thought when I got too old to play I’d lose my mind, but I found my place with our team. The Celtic Wolves saved me,and I’m going to ensure you assholes are the best team to ever grace the cities.”
“We appreciate everything you do, Coach,” I told him, barely resisting the urge to give him a hug. Coach would rip my fucking head off, even though the grumpy bastard needed a hug more than anyone I knew. Except maybe Slade.
He waved me off. “Get out of here. I’ll see you both bright and early tomorrow.” The smile that followed was positively sinister, and I swore my balls shrank in response.
He was going to destroy us in training.
Meanwhile, Finley looked as if all his dreams had just come true. My brother had issues, and the fact that he enjoyed our ass-whooping in training told me that therapy wouldn’t go astray.
Eh, who was I kidding… I enjoyed it too.
Whatever kept the darkness at bay.
