Page 30 of Puck & Her Blades

The rush of adrenaline is like a drug.

This heady mix of thrill, fear, and endorphins is like nothing I’ve experienced in over a year.

I’ve missed this so fucking much.

I squint up into the spotlights that are directed at me in the center of the rink. I can barely hear my roaring pulse over the wild cheers of the vast crowd. The circle of lights is too bright for me to make out individual members of the audience, but I can smell them.

It’s an overwhelming flood of hyped up Alpha pheromones.

I force myself to straighten my shoulders and wave.

The howls, applause, and laughter rise in response.

So, I’m a hit.

Except, I’m meant to skate around in what’s going to become my signature puck’s opening of play.

And that’ll be the real test.

My leg is aching, from where I landed badly on it on the snowy pavement earlier. But I can’t allow it to buckle now.

I peer at the boards of the rink. The teams are standing around, watching me.

The two bonded attackers from the Blade pack, Jackson and Zev, are standing closest to me. They’re hulking and taller than any of the other players.

Intrigued, I notice that they are shoulder to shoulder either side of the shorter Beta center. They’re sandwiching the Beta between them protectively.

Interesting.

I take a deep breath, feeling the ice beneath my skates.

I never dreamed that I’d be able to perform in front of anyone again.

“Strong on the ice,” I whisper. “Fly on the ice. Free…”

Then I start to skate…and almost overbalance.

Shit, this costume is heavy.

I bite my lip to stop myself laughing. It’s that or cry as a wave of sadness washes over me.

The last time that I was under the spotlights on this rink, I was dancing before the crowd with all the passion in my Soul.

My name was Ice.

Now, I’m invisible.

I’m Puck.

No one here knows that they’re not only witnessing the introduction of the first ever Omega mascot but that beneath the costume is the figure skater who they once admired because of my daring jumps and beautiful routines.

I guess it’s time to become a strong puck instead.

Free the puck.

Now that sounds like a resistance chant.

Free the puck!

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