A blocker from the other team slammed into my side. Pain flared, hot and quick, but I held. I dug my skates into the floor and gave back just as much as I took, feeling the impact echo through my bones.
Mel slipped through the gap we made, whooping as she broke free.
“Yes!” I shouted, even as another hit knocked me off balance.
I went down hard, sliding on one knee, but I was back up in a heartbeat, lungs burning, heart pounding, throwing myself right back into the pack. There was no time to doubt, no time to be afraid, only the rhythm of the game, the trust in the women beside me.
We were fierce together. Loud. Unapologetic.
Every hit I gave, every time I got back up, I felt more solid in my body, more sure of my place in this wild, powerful sisterhood. And for the first time in so long, I wasn’t just surviving.
I was flying.
48
ALEX
Iwatched from the sidelines with my heart in my throat.
This hadn’t been the night I’d expected, not with the frantic drive, the missing skate, the showdown with her mom. Everything had felt like it might fall apart at any second. All I could do now was hope Eleanor was okay out there.
Then they announced her.
“Slayerella!”
The grin that spread across my face was unstoppable. I was on my feet, cheering like a fool, like there was nothing in the world more important than that woman rolling out onto the track.
And honestly?
There wasn’t.
The bout started fast, and my nerves went right along with it.
Every time Eleanor took a hit, I winced like I’d been the one knocked to the floor. My whole body tensed when she went down, breath caught in my throat until she was back on her skates, pushing forward like nothing could keep her down.
“Is she okay?” Ava asked for the third time.
“She’s okay,” I said, even when my heart was hammering. “See? She’s already back up.”
Then Eleanor delivered a hit of her own, clean, powerful, sending a blocker stumbling out of Mel’s way, and I was on my feet again, cheering so loud my throat hurt.
Ava's eyes were glued to the track. “She’s strong.”
“She is,” I agreed, proud and terrified in equal measure.
I kept watching, answering questions, clapping and shouting and holding my breath through every jam.
And through it all, one thing was clear.
She wasn’t just surviving out there.
She was owning it.
When the final whistle blew and the scoreboard confirmed it, the Grimm Reapers had won, and the whole place exploded.
Ava and Leo were bouncing like they’d been plugged into the rink’s sound system. That kind of wild energy was normal for Leo, but seeing Ava that animated and cheering, clapping, calling out plays, felt like a small miracle.
“And then she totally blocked her!” Leo shouted in his best announcer voice. “Did you see that hit?”
