Page 12

T he game starts like any other, but it quickly escalates into mayhem. You'd think we were playing the Vultures with the level of intensity the Warriors came out with tonight. I know we're a rival, but something just feels off. Both teams have had multiple people in and out of the penalty box for both periods so far.

The Warriors have the puck, they're down by one, and they're pushing towards the goal. Their captain lines up his shot, but Slate is ready and knocks the shot away. Dolos rushes to dig the puck out of the corner, but he doesn't reach the puck. Two Warriors fly out of nowhere, charging in with their heads lowered, and both smash into Dolos' ribs. The sound of them cracking echoes through the pack bond, sending a ripple of pain through all of us. The entire crowd gasps as one and rises to their feet.

If I thought this game was mayhem before, it's an absolute disaster now. Dolos is crumpled on the ice, and I'm bolting towards him. Eris, however, has lost all control. He's ripped his helmet off, and any Warrior player that comes anywhere near him instantly regrets it. He's yanking their helmets off and throwing his fists so hard into their faces that there are teeth being lost tonight. Benny tries to pull him off and calm him, but it's like he can't hear him or anyone for that matter.

When I reach Dolos, he's still conscious but unable to move due to his fractured ribs. He's taking staggered and shallow breaths to avoid the sharp pains that come from attempting to take in too much air at once. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time we've encountered these injuries; it's just been a very long time.

The crowd is roaring now; fans of both teams still on their feet, screaming and banging their fists on the glass barriers.

I look back up to check on Eris, and the refs are trying to pull him off of one of the men who hit his brother, but they're not making any real progress. It looks like all that pent-up shit he won't deal with finally took over. Eris, get your shit together and calm down. He doesn't have his mental shields up, so I know he heard me, but he doesn't even flinch at my words.

I see a flash of silver pass by the glass behind Eris, and a spark of fear tries to take root until I notice she's following Runa, and they're both being followed by Fran.

Runa bangs on the plexiglass barrier with one closed fist, raises her other hand to her mouth to release a loud whistle, and yells, “MARZOLLI!”

He flinches and stills, slowly turning his head.

She yells again, pointing at Eris then Dolos, “Eris! Knock it off, he's going to be fine!”

Leera’s brows are creased in worry as her eyes dart to where I'm kneeling beside Dolos and where Eris still has the nearly unconscious Warrior by his jersey, shrugging off the players and refs who are still trying to stop him.

Eris' shoulders drop like he's finally snapped out of the rage-induced trance he was drowning in, and he slowly releases the Warriors player to sink to the ice. The refs get ahold of him, and he stops fighting, letting them drag him off the ice where he's granted a misconduct penalty and ejected from the game.

After the medical team is able to get Dolos off the ice and into the locker rooms where the healers will see to him, the game is able to resume with the two players that hit Dolos also receiving misconduct penalties, but they just have ten minutes in the penalty boxes, giving us ten minutes of power play to make sure we take this game. Then we're going to figure out what the fuck the weird energy was about tonight.

Our post-game meeting and interviews felt like they dragged on forever. The second I'm able, I bolt away to find my little mate. When I approach, she and my sister have their heads tucked together in conversation. “I hope I'm not interrupting,” I say with intentional intensity, causing them both to startle. I chuckle, but they both swat at me, and Leera crosses her arms in front of her chest, making me nearly groan out loud.

“How's Dolos?” the girls ask in unison.

“He'll be fine. He has one fractured rib, but it should be healed up by morning.”

They both release a sigh of relief.

“Runa, he'd probably like it if you rode home with him. Give him a mental boost, ya know?” I suggest calmly.

She nods, wringing her hands together as she moves to leave, but not before Leera stops her and wraps her in a tight hug. We watch Runa catch up to where they're helping Dolos down the tunnel to the back exit of the arena. When she's caught up and in good hands, Leera turns to me and jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist and peppering my face with kisses between her words, “I don't like when there are big fights. I don't like worrying about you guys.” She stops and looks me in the eyes, her icy-blue ones melting into calmness. “I'm glad it wasn't you this time. Does that make me a bad person?”

I squeeze my arms around her tighter. “Not at all. We understand. I'm glad you and Fran were with Runa for that…Also…did you two feel anything weird from the stands?” I ask cautiously, trying not to induce an anxiety-riddled panic attack.

She visibly thinks for a moment. “I don't think so…I mean, not really. Like the fans all felt normal, but the game definitely seemed rough. Like there was more than just playoff points on the line.”

I nod to myself for a moment. “I was thinking the same thing. There was a weird energy on the ice tonight, and I want to figure out why.”

Leera and I are the last ones to make it home. I carry her in and plop her cute little ass on the top of the long kitchen island we tend to gather at. “Slate, I want you to dig into the Warriors team; give me everything you can find. Something felt off at that game tonight.”

“Ya think, Boss? They were nearly rabid. I don't know how they weren't shifting left and right with the way they were acting,” Benny adds.

I walk over to the couch where Dolos is resting, propped up by probably two dozen pillows, with Runa by his side, and Eris across the room sitting in a chair, just watching them. “How're you holding up?”

Dolos gives me an ornery grin and says, “Right as rain. I'm sure I'm fine, but someone has decided I'm couch-bound until morning,” he finishes, his eyes darting towards my sister, who isn't looking at me.

“Sounds like a good plan to be sure.” I pat him on his shoulder, and he winces a bit, telling me Runa was right and that he needs to allow himself to rest.

Andrei comes walking in from down the hall with a letter in his hand. “People still write letters?” I ask.

He doesn't immediately look up. “We do when we're communicating between the realms and don't want our digital information to be tracked,” he snaps back before immediately adding, “Shit, I'm sorry. I reached out to some of my contacts I trust to see if anyone had noticed strange movement with Avram or Boian…Nothing major, though. Apparently, Boian has been a little scarce lately, but nothing more. Avram has been in and out of the realm a little more than usual, but he keeps losing his tails.”

Not what we wanted to hear, but it's something. I nod to Andrei, and he plops onto one of the barstools near Leera, and they start chatting as I walk over to Slate and his laptop. “I have an uncomfortable hunch. See if anyone on the Warriors team has any connections to my father, the advisor, or dark witches.”

Slate nods and begins typing, losing himself in the information on his screen. Benny's rummaging through the refrigerator when he pops his head out, mouth full, and mutters, “How wa gowwa figwa out da pwaphucy?”

Leera throws her head back and laughs, and the sound feels like magic. “What on Earth did you just say?”

I chuckle with her and roll my eyes, translating his gibberish, “He asked how we're going to figure out the prophecy. Don't worry, give it a couple hundred years, and you'll be able to understand him too.” And the rest of the room laughs along with us.

When we've all stopped laughing, Leera speaks up, “I actually had an idea that might help.”

Everyone in the room perks up to pay attention. “I'm listening,” I offer suspiciously because if she thinks she's doing anything that would even remotely put her in danger, it's not fucking happening.

She hops off the counter and takes the few steps it takes to reach me, wrapping her arms around me, tilting her head back to look me in the eyes with her sweet smile on her face. “Calm down, Big Guy, I was just going to suggest seeing if Prof—Willa wants to meet for coffee or something, and we could talk to her and see if she knows how we can learn about the prophecy.”

“That's…that's actually a great idea.”

“Wow, Roman.” She jabs me in my chest. “Don't sound so surprised that I could have a good idea.” She pouts, crossing her arms.

I cough out a small laugh. “That's most definitely not how I meant that. I only meant that I should have thought of it.”

She gives me the side-eye. “Nice cover.”

I scoop her into my arms and toss her gently over my shoulder. “That's enough business for the day. Goodnight, everyone! Say goodnight, darling.”

“Roman! Put! Me! Down!” she squeals while playfully beating her tiny fists on my back before giving up in a heap of defeat and huffing, “Goodnight, guys.”