I felt the blood drain from my face. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want any of this. I thought I was protecting Ricky and—Cole thinks I used him.” He was right.
Ignatius’s voice softened, though only slightly. “Cole does not hate you.”
“He told me to leave.”
“He told you to leave because he was wounded. And dragons—bound or unbound—do not handle betrayal well.” Ignatius paused, then added with quiet certainty, “He will regret his reaction.”
“I ruined everything,” I whispered. “You didn’t see his face.”
"This is what you were going to tell me after the All-Star?"
I nodded, misery stifling any words.
Doryu stepped beside us, looping his scarf fully now, as if preparing for the next move. “We were just leaving for the airport,” he said gently. “All-Star weekend.”
“I know,” I said. “He doesn’t want me anywhere near him.”
Ignatius snorted, the sound elegant and deeply unimpressed. “Want has nothing to do with need. And Cole Armstrong needs you whether he can stand to admit it right now or not.”
“Ignatius—”
He cut me off with a simple, commanding gesture. “You are coming with us.”
“I—what?”
“You are not staying here alone,” he said firmly. “You are not wandering the city with no coat, no plan, and no sense of your own worth. And you are certainly not leaving Cole to process this alone while you’re out here falling apart.”
“He hates me.”
“And yet,” Ignatius said, “he needs you.”
A silence stretched between us, heavy and frightening.
Ignatius narrowed his eyes slightly, the assessment in his gaze unmistakable. “Phoenix, the man who approached you does not work for Wells. He is someone else entirely, and I intend to find out who. But right now—what matters is that Cole is hurting, you are lost, and neither of you should be left alone with your thoughts.” He glanced at Doryu fondly. "You two are roughly the same size, so pack some extras, perhaps the gray suit."
Doryu chuckled and in less than five minutes was back with another suitcase. “Come on. Before Ignatius changes his mind and leaves you standing on the porch.”
Ignatius sighed dramatically. “I never change my mind. But I will get irritated.”
Despite everything—despite the ache in my chest and the weight of what I’d done—a small, broken sound of laughter escaped me.
“Come,” Ignatius said, softer now. “You'll come with us.”
And for the first time in hours, my legs carried me forward toward something that wasn’t destruction.
Cole
The arena was loud in the way only an All-Star weekend could be—bright lights, thunderous music, kids screaming for autographs, cameras flashing like a strobe against the boards. Everywhere I looked, players were smiling, laughing, talking trash in good-natured bursts.
It should havefelt electric.
Instead, everything around me felt slightly muted, as if I were watching my own life through the wrong end of a telescope. I kept moving anyway. Autopilot had always been my superpower. I shook hands. Nodded at people I barely recognized while they congratulated me.Answered media questions with the same professional charm I’d perfected in the last two years.
I could almost hear Phoenix teasing me about it—saying I had two smiles, one for the cameras and one that was real. I shut that thought down hard and tied my skates. The dragon under my ribs pressed uncomfortably outward, pacing in a way that made it harder than usual to breathe. It wasn’t anger. Not heat. Just…restlessness. A sense of absence. A wrong note humming under my skin.
I laced tighter and stood.Ignore it. Focus.
The Skills Competition was first. I was slotted into three events: accuracy shooting, the passing challenge, and a trick-shot sequence designed to amuse the fans.
