I was over the boards before rational thought could intervene, my gloves hitting the ice as I grabbed Jaxon's jacket with both hands and slammed him back against the glass.
"You son of a bitch."
But Jaxon didn't fight back. He just laughed, low and dark, the sound vibrating through his chest where it was pressed against mine.
"You already had your turn though, didn't you?" His eyes locked onto mine, challenging. "Could smell you all over her. What'd you do, Vale? Pin her against a wall in that hallway? Make her remember what she walked away from?"
We were chest to chest now, aggressive and territorial. Behind me, I could hear my teammates moving closer, ready to intervene. Coach was yelling something I couldn't process.
But there was something else underneath the anger. Something that made my skin feel too tight.
A charge in the air that wasn't just violence.
"This isn't a game, Roarke."
"No?" His eyes dropped to my mouth for just a split second before coming back up. "Because I'm playing to win. And I'm gonna knot that pretty Omega's pussy before you even get close."
My grip tightened in his jacket, pulling him even closer. Our faces were inches apart. "Like hell you are."
"What are you gonna do about it, Ice King?" His voice was a low growl. "You gonna stop me?"
The tension was suffocating. Violent and sexual and so fucking complicated I couldn't untangle it.
Part of me wanted to put my fist through his face.
Part of me was turned on by the challenge, by his aggression, by the way he was matching me word for word.
By the idea of fighting over her.
I shoved him back hard, releasing his jacket. "Get the fuck out of here."
Jaxon stumbled but caught himself, still wearing that infuriating grin. "I'm going. Got a pussy to wreck." He started backing toward the exit, his eyes never leaving mine. "But hey, when I'm done with her, maybe I'll send you pictures."
The door slammed behind him.
I stood there, chest heaving, my hands curled into fists. The entire rink was silent except for my ragged breathing.
"Vale." Coach's voice cut through the fog. "What the hell was that?"
I couldn't answer, couldn’t explain to my coach about what was really going.
Because Jaxon had come here to gloat. To stake his claim. To rub it in my face that he'd gotten to her.
And it had worked.
But something felt off about the whole thing.
"Vale!" Coach's voice was sharp. "My office. Now."
I ignored him, skating toward the bench where I'd left my phone. My teammates parted like I was radioactive, nobody stupid enough to get in my way when I looked like this.
"Luca, I'm talking to you!"
"Give me a minute," I bit out, not looking back.
I grabbed my phone with shaking hands, water from my gloves dripping onto the screen. Three missed calls from the front office. Two texts from my brother Noah asking something random going on at our family’s next gathering.
Finally I pulled up the contact number for Reina that I’d charmed out the front desk secretary at NIHL headquarters in exchange for an autograph for her kids.
