He shoots a glare in my direction, and I just laugh as I reach out and snag the puck away from his stick, flicking past him with ease and sliding a pass across the ice to Rook.
There’s still room for debate on whether my brothers and my building a private hockey rink a few miles away from our compound was a good idea, but I’m in the camp that believes it certainly fucking was.
Every other Thursday, we invite other vampire teams from nearby towns to come play us. And tonight, Blue Steel probably regrets agreeing to this match.
Iron Knights: 6
Blue Steel: 2
The scoreboard flashes above us, and I tap my stick against the ice as I watch the puck slide across it.
“You guys wanna try playing defense, or is this more of a participation situation?” I taunt the biggest dude on Blue Steel’s team.
“Shut the fuck up,” he spits, and I blow him a kiss.
Calloway skates past me and shoves my shoulder. “How about you cool the taunting, yeah? I mean, you’ve only scored one fucking goal, bro.”
“Quality over quantity,” I shoot back easily. “It might only be one goal, but it was the best goal of the night.”
Cal rolls his eyes, and Rook doesn’t bother with commentary. He just takes the puck clean from one of their guys and sends it my way without looking like he’s trying.
I catch it automatically, cutting across the ice, letting them think they’ve got a shot before I shift my weight and take it.
The puck snaps into the net.
Iron Knights: 7
Blue Steel: 2
“Go, Kane, go!” Blair cheers from the stands. I glance over my shoulder to find her—fully pregnant and ready to deliver any day now—standing on her feet and clapping her hands. “That’s my man!”
“Blair, honey!” I call over toward her. “Could you cheer from a sitting-down position?”
She sticks out her tongue at me, but thankfully, she plants her cute, very pregnant butt on the bleachers. It’s safe to say, with Blair being pregnant, every protective instinct inside my body is on full alert.
I glide back into position as Blue Steel tries to take another go at us, but just as the puck is pitched across the ice, something hits me full force.
It’s not physical, but everything inside me locks up and consumes my focus to the point that I can’t register anything else but her.
Blair.
I turn to find her still in the stands, but she’s back on her feet and one hand is gripping the railing near the plexi, while the other is pressed low on her stomach. Her face is pale, her breathing uneven—but when her eyes find mine, it’s not fear I feel from her.
It’s urgency.
And pain.
Blair’s in labor.
I’m moving before the thought finishes forming. I skate hard for the edge, not bothering to slow properly before I step off the ice, yanking my helmet free and tossing it behind me. My skates are next after that.
By the time I reach her, I’m in only my socks and she’s bracing through another contraction, her body tightening and her breath catching.
“Hey,” I say, already reaching for her, my hands gripping her arms gently. “Talk to me.”
She huffs out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “I think…” She pauses. “I think…” She winces and pants. “My water broke.”
And I don’t hesitate. I scoop her up in one smooth motion, cradling her as I move toward the arena’s exit.
