“The league wants to take the team international. Bigger audiences, more revenue, exposure for the sport.” He takes a long drink. “Which means the human sports regulatory boards are paying attention now.”
“I don’t understand why we have to go international.” I set my beer down. “We can just play against local packs. Keep it in the community.”
“Wolf packs might have started hockey as a way to handle aggression, but it’s evolved.” Leon takes a chug of his beer. “Packs are taking this seriously now. And humans are watching. The games are televised. We’re pulling in huge viewership numbers. This isn’t just about us anymore.”
I lean back against the counter, processing. “Okay. So what’s the problem?”
“The sports regulatory board wants us to have health and fitness checks for the next three months. A nurse or doctor. Someone who’ll stick with the team throughout games and practices to monitor us.”
“Okay, so we get a pack healer to do it. What’s the big deal?” I raise a brow.
Leon scowls. “If it was that easy, don’t you think I would have done it already? Our pack healers function as herbalists under human law. None of them went to medical school. None of them are doctors or nurses by human standards.”
“So we need a human one.” I grimace. “Are you sure you don’t want to rethink this whole business?”
“It’s happening,” my alpha says sharply. “We need to find a human we can trust.”
“A human doctor or nurse might figure out what we are.” I grab my beer again, needing something to do with my hands. “One blood test and we’re exposed.”
“It’s not like there aren’t humans who know about our existence,” he says thoughtfully. “But those are few and farbetween. And none of them are doctors. We’ll need to find somebody we can trust. Someone we can work with to manipulate the bloodwork if necessary.”
“You had no problem having me stitched up by that human nurse the other day,” I point out after a beat.
“Yeah, because she wasn’t going to draw your blood.” Leon drains his beer. “That was surface level. This is different. We need someone who’ll be around constantly. Someone who won’t ask too many questions.”
“Well, this is complicated.” I pull myself up to sit on the edge of the counter, beer resting on my legs. “What do you want me to do, Coach?”
Leon may be the alpha, but he’s also the coach for the hockey team, and calling him by his sports title has become second nature to us.
“Where’s Linda?” he asks, looking around. “She’s usually here cooking.”
I scoff. “So that’s why you’re here. You wanted her to feed you.”
“She’s one of the best chefs in the pack.” My alpha gives me an annoyed look. “I would have hired her if you hadn’t offered double what anybody else would.”
I grin. “She likes money. I have money. Anyway, it’s her day off today. She’s been throwing hints at me about retiring as well. She says she’s in her eighties and deserves to rest now. I’m going to have to find a new nanny for Ethan soon.”
“Good luck with that.” He gives me a wry look. “Finding someone you can trust with your son isn’t easy.”
The double-edged meaning behind his words doesn’t escape me. This might be my pack, but it was once Vanessa’s pack too, and there are a lot of packmates who are still loyal to her. Thinking of my ex-wife makes me irritable, and I finish my beer before grabbing another.
Women are way more trouble than they’re worth.
Maybe it’s a good thing that sharp-tongued nurse didn’t take me up on my lunch offer.
The ice feelsgood beneath my skates. Clean. Simple. No complications.
“Wolfe, you planning to actually move or just stand there looking pretty?” Samuel’s voice cuts through my thoughts as he whizzes past, his stick handling the puck with easy grace.
I shake off whatever fog has settled over me and chase after him. My legs pump, muscles burning in that familiar way that tells me I’m alive. The puck shoots toward the goal, and Eric, our goalie, blocks it with a satisfying thunk.
“Nice try,” Eric calls out, his grin visible even through his mask.
The rink is chaos around us. Twenty-plus players moving in practiced formations, the sound of skates on ice and sticks hitting pucks echoing off the walls. We’ve been at this for over an hour. Coach isn’t here today—some pack business he had to handle—but that doesn’t mean we slack off. If anything, we push harder when he’s not watching. Prove we don’t need him breathing down our necks to be good.
Brody slams into me from the side, a legal check that still rattles my teeth. “Wake up, man. You’ve been slow all practice.”
He’s right. My head isn’t in the game today. Hasn’t been for days, if I’m being honest.
