Page 155 of Puck & Her Blades

To my shock, Jackson laughs. “Of course I do. You can’t hit any of us with that because if you do, then I definitely won’t play and I’ll tell every press and fan site that it was because of my coach’s brutality. And you, well, you need this win as much as your next breath. How much does it mean to you to have that empty place on your office wall filled, huh?”

“You brat.” Roarke shakes Jackson, hurling the paddle against the bank of monitors. I startle, as it smashes through the screen. “I adopted you, even though you’d been marked as a bad Alpha. I redeemed you and gave you everything.”

“You used me,” Jackson replies. “I worked my ass off for you. Yet it was never enough. When I begged to bond with Ash, you wouldn’t allow even that.”

“I had a right to. You’re under contract not to choose your own bonds, and so is Zev.” Roarke lets go of Jackson and takes a step back. “But now I get it. All this noise is over a fucking worthless Companion.”

Jackson straightens, coldly turning to face Roarke.

“A Companion who’s going to hit the record books,” Cygnus points out. “Who you thought was special enough to make the only Beta player in the Alpha NHL. He’s always been part of our family, and I love him too.”

“We all do,” I add.

Zev slings his arm around Asher’s shoulder, who’s looking flushed and overwhelmed by the public declarations. “He’s our bro.”

Roarke crosses his arms. “It’s obvious. This is a negotiation then. I guess that I taught strategy to you too well. So, what do you want?”

“A negotiation implies that we’re prepared to compromise,” Jackson says, frostily, “and we’re not. If you want us to play, then you’re going to call your legal team here and draw up a contract.”

“That says what?”

This is it.

Cygnus takes desperate breaths of my scent to keep himself calm.

“That this is my last game before I retire,” Jackson states, laying out the terms that we worked out together on Boxing Day, which we spent planning this. It doesn’t feel real that this is truly happening. My chest is tight with excitement and fear. It’s amplified by the same emotions coiling through the bond from my other mates. “You will allow me to leave Blade House and take with me the rest of my bonded mates, including your son and Puck.”

Roarke’s gaze slides to me. “She works for me.”

“She won’t after today,” Jackson growls.

“And neither will I,” Zev adds.

Ash puts his hand up. “Or me.”

“You’re not taking my best players with you,” Roarke snarls. “Fuck you.”

Jackson shrugs. “I’m simply telling you the terms. You’ll let us leave the team. You’ll give up your control as Head Alpha, allowing us to set up our own home, free to make our own decisions.”

“Your Companion isn’t even bonded to you.”

“He will be.”

Asher grins. “Suck on that, coach.”

Roarke’s face reddens with rage. “Why would I agree to this?”

“Because you know good strategy when you see it,” Jackson replies. “Winning the Alpha Cup with a team like this — bonded Alphas, high scoring Beta, the only Omega mascot, and your own Omega son — will be legendary. You got that right. It’ll be the stuff of myth. The story will resonate around the globe. The fans will go crazy for it. The glory that we’ll win the team will bring in so much money and sponsorship that it’ll set the Washington Blades and you up for the next two decades. You don’t need us. You can let us go.”

I hold my breath.

Has he done it? Won the argument?

Will Roarke open the door and allow us to fly from his cage? Or only keep it more firmly locked now that we’ve shown our hand?

Roarke hums, thoughtfully. “The important word in all of this is win. If you win, then your retirement from the game with the championship team will be a story in and of itself for the press. I can start again with a new rookie team. But what if you don’t win?”

Zev wets his dry lips. “Hey, not very inspirational, coach.”