Blood hit the ice. I didn’t care if it was his or mine.
I felt arms grabbing at me—two, then three—trying to haul me off.
Didn’t matter.
I got one more shot in before they pulled me back, chest heaving, vision red, knuckles raw.
Logan lay there like a broken toy, groaning, twitching, trying to sit up.
I spit near him—close enough he’d know it was personal. “Say her name again,” I growled. “See what happens next time.”
The ref shoved me toward the box, mouthing “You’re gone.”
Fine.
I’d earned it.
I turned back toward the glass.
Toward her.
Persephone stood, lips parted, eyes wide. Shock and something else flickered across her face—fear, fury, heat.
She saw it all.
She saw what I’d do for her.
What I’d become for her.
She saw the monster.
And I hoped to hell she remembered?—
He’s yours now.
You married him.
Chapter 17
Seph
I sank deeper into my seat, heart hammering as I tried—really tried—to keep my eyes on the game. The ice glittered under the arena lights, players flying across it like weapons on blades. But all I could see was him.
Hades.
He didn’t just skate—he hunted. Every stride was controlled violence, sharp and deliberate, a predator in black and gold. The way his body moved—coiled power and rage just barely restrained—it did something to me I didn’t want to name.
I swallowed hard as he launched into a clean hit, sending some poor bastard crashing into the boards. The impact rattled the glass in front of me, and I jolted—but not from fear. From something else. Something darker.
The crowd roared. I couldn’t hear anything past the thundering pulse in my ears.
He skated like the ice belonged to him, like no one else had the right to exist out there. And I hated how I couldn’t look away.
Then the gloves dropped.
My breath caught. I watched—frozen—as Hades turned toward the opposing captain. Logan Rhys. Mouthy. Known for cheap shots.
Whatever he’d said, I didn’t hear it. But I saw what it did to Hades.
