Heat and rancor battled through the vessels of my heart. I just wanted to march over, grab him by the ear, and scold him for beating the organs out of everyone and collecting random girls’ numbers—and, at the same time, order him to kiss me. I was starving for cuddles.
Calm down, Yvaine!I sucked in a big breath.
An acrid scent flared my nostrils. I turned, spotting fire and smoke curling up from the Dark Diamonds’ corner of the field. That was also when I noticed that the offensive signs from the fan club were gone.
I sank back in my seat, watching Logan take shot after shot, witnessing how my twin made our pack proud. For every pass he caught, every push forward, the Comets section roared like it was shaking the heavens. Then cametheplay.
A brutal pass—too high, too far for a mortal man. But not my twin. He launched himself skyward, catching it like a hawk snatching prey. And before his boots even skimmed the mud, he flung his arm back and hurled that ball like a trebuchet, so far that he almost made a touchdown by himself.
That was the famous Highlander move.The catapult.
It should’ve been unstoppable. It was the kind of throw legends were built on, so high that no one could intercept it until it fell into a teammate’s awaiting hands.
But today was not the day of the catapult.
Another body rose into the sky—clean, fast, lethal.
Logan.
They were far across the field from each other, thank Stephen, but my brother stabbed him with his eyes before reorganizing the team to halt the coming attack.
The game went on, grass disappearing under layers of mud and blood, and the score fluctuated between the teams. The audience grew more and more tense, more rabid, louder. My brother was targeted over and over, dragged down like prey, and still got back up with recharged fury in his blue eyes. He seemed to be the number one target, along with Gaius. He lost a tooth. Or two.
When Lachlan went down again, Amaia squeezed my leg—a rare comfort from her. Only then did I notice the weird pallor on my friend, mixed with a sweaty forehead.
By the time we were down to the final half, it was clear that Logan also had a penchant for extreme shit-talking. But the way he held the ball…what would it feel like to have his fingers wrapped around my hips?
I followed his warpath as he tore down the field, matching Gaius, the forward from our team, stride for stride. Gaius slipped by him, but Logan threw his shoulder into his side, knocking him off his path and kicking him in the chin with a boisterous laugh.
“Keep it up, Thor,” a deep voice came from the Dark Diamonds sidelines. It was calm, not shouting or insane, yet it cut through the chaos, yanking my attention like a hook. It originated from a giant of a man who was built like a retired warlord, with golden hair streaked with silver that didn’t dare to leave the sideburns. I knew that lifted chin and those high cheekbones. Logan’s father.
Next to him stood a bizarre older woman, her face hidden behind a full skeleton mask that resembled the one worn by Gentle Eyes.
“This is the kind of game I came to see. No mercy! I want lungs gasping. Now, Thor…” He leaned forward, onyx eyes burning. “…give me the blood I demand.”
The skeleton granny raised her cane like it was a sword. Wait, no, it was a pool cue!“And don’t you dare serve it lukewarm!”
Logan glanced their way, a smirk tugging at his mouth, before he dodged three players, punched one hard, knocked out another, and then threw the ball backwards, strategically. And he laughed all the while.
His presence captured the arena in a way that was difficult to assign words to, and I was unsure what scared me more: my twin, who was being bitten in the calf by one of the Jesters, or my mate, who had just brutally broken a Comet’s arm. The sound of bones snapping echoed through my head.
I watched my mate barrel toward the receiver my twin was passing the ball to, jumping in front of him and intercepting the ball before it got into the receiver’s hands. Again.
Lachlan wasn’t having it this time.
The second the ball ricocheted off course, Lachlan was already sprinting, red hair blazing under the lights. Oh, no.
No, Lachy, don’t.My finger stung as I bled a little from the hangnail I had just ripped from my thumb.
He slammed straight into Logan’s skull with a violent shoulder-check—crack!—and Logan hit the mud like he’d been shot. The ball slipped free before he had a chance to hand it off.
For one terrifying second, I thought Logan might stay down.
Not a chance.
He bounced back up, dusting the mud off his shorts. Only his eyes gave him away—meaner, an unexpected spark of…crimson?
Meanwhile, Lachlan tore through the Dark Diamonds hulks, shoving one of those walking wardrobes flat onto his wooden ass. Light on his feet, he slipped between the defense with the confidence of someone who knew he was the better player. He didn’t need to break bones to prove it; his speed and skill did the job for him.
