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AJ

W rongness coated me. The arena grew silent. Grif didn’t move. A strange sensation coursed through the bond as I watched in horror while my beloved slumped on the ice.

Get up, Boo-Boo. Get up.

That wrongness turned to fear as he didn’t move.

Move, damn it.

Players rushed toward him. Dr. Mosser jumped over the boards as the refs blew their whistles.

“Grif.” Panic wafted off Verity.

A growl ripped from my lips. Not at her, but at everyone else–warning them to get out of the way as I got to my omega. My love.

My mate.

I shot out of our row and flew down the stairs to the glass. People yelled at me as I backed up, then took it at a run.

The fastest way to get to him was over the glass.

In a way only an alpha trying to help their injured mate could, I leapt up to the top of the glass and jumped down onto the ice. Pain shot through my leg, but I didn’t fucking care.

Only Grif mattered as my basest, most primal instinct to protect my mate came out. Must. Get. To. Grif. Now.

I tore across the ice. People shouted at me. Ignoring them, I made it to his side and hauled his body into my arms. Mate.

“Grif, I’m here, talk to me,” I growled, taking off his helmet and touching his face, protecting him with my body.

“You shouldn’t be here,” someone said.

I growled, keeping him close.

“Wake up, Grif,” I demanded. The bond had gone quiet, which made me nervous.

“That’s Grif’s bonded alpha. AJ, can you put him down so Dr. Mosser can look him over? An ambulance is waiting if we need it.” Jonas crouched down next to me.

I snarled at him. Grif was mine.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be here either. Where are you all coming from?” one ref grumbled.

“Here you go, Plant Prof, he’s right here,” an accented voice said. “She’s Grif’s, too.”

“Grif.” Sea salt and driftwood surrounded me as Verity crouched down with me.

Verity stroked my arm. “AJ, let’s allow them to do their job, okay?”

Mine. I glared at her.

“I know you’re worried, but please let the doctor look at him, AJ.” Jonas’ words were sharp enough to knock me back to reality.

“Oh, sorry.” I realized I was holding Grif to me and growling at everyone. Jonas, Verity, and Dean crouched by my side on the ice.

Actually, the entire team was there.

“AJ?” Grif gasped, opening his eyes as I set him down.

“Grif.” My heart soared.

That strange sensation coated me again as he started to shake. Emergency personnel swarmed him.

“GRIF,” I bellowed as his scent went rotten and anguish filled our bond.

Arms tightened around me.

“Let them work,” Jonas growled, keeping me from running over to him. “You can go with him, but let them do their fucking job.”

“They’ll take care of him,” Verity said softly as she held Dean who started sobbing.

“Was he not feeling well?” Dr. Mosser asked us. “Any symptoms?”

“He didn’t seem alright on the bench. He told me he ate too much cake.” Jonas eased his grip on me.

Grif collapsed. He fucking collapsed.

“He said that to me, too,” Dean sobbed.

“They’re taking him to Manhattan General,” Dr. Mosser told us. “Jonas, Dean, I’m guessing you’re going with him.”

“I’ve got this, Double-D. Go,” Jean-Paul told Dean, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Go,” Coach said. “Don’t even think about not.”

They loaded Grif onto a stretcher and carried him off the ice.

“Okay, let’s go. AJ, ride in the ambulance with Grif. The guys will change, and I’ll drive us to the hospital, and meet you there,” Verity said, looking no-nonsense, voice full of authority.

I gave her a kiss. “Thank you.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Dean sobbed as I followed the stretcher off the ice.

But I knew. Guilt coated me. We hadn’t done enough for him. I hadn’t done enough.

We knew we were on borrowed time.

That time had just run out.