Page 13 of Puck & Her Blades

I didn’t think that I’d end up being one of those cases.

Ironic.

Satisfied, Roarke pulls open the locker and drags out the mascot costume. Then he throws it at me.

An oversized skate hits me in the eye, and I flinch.

That would be an equally ironic way to lose an eye: taken out by the fake skate on my new mascot costume.

“You have rules.” Roarke paces toward the door. “Number one is that mascots don’t talk. We can’t spoil the magic for all those paying fans, can we?” Yeah, wouldn’t want them to know the truth of the unhappy Omega trapped inside the smiling Puck. “Rule two, never change in public for the same reason. Rule three, never misrepresent this brand. You’re a Blade now, and everything that you do reflects on us. If you damage my family or team’s reputation, I will personally destroy you. Understood?”

Fuck, he’s intense.

I battle to tilt up my chin and meet his gaze. “Crystal.”

Roarke’s lips pull back. “Most rookies are cowering by the point I’ve kicked their ass this hard. Reluctantly, I’m impressed. Get dressed, Puck.”

As soon as Roarke stalks out, I sag against the wall.

I take a deep breath.

If my own Alpha parents weren’t as dominant as Roarke is, then I would have been reduced to a terrified Omega, either pushed into panic attack or tears, by that bullying assault.

I drop the costume to the floor.

“Come on, have some courage,” I whisper as I slip my dress over my head. “Strong on the ice. Fly on the ice. Free on the ice.”

It was my mantra before every performance.

I’m still performing.

Sort of.

I hurl my dress across the room, and it hits the wall satisfyingly hard. Then I snatch up the costume. Puzzled, I try to work out the tangle of legs and straps.

Finally, I sit down, deciding that working my legs into the furry tights first is the best method. I hate that it reminds me of getting into my costume, before a skating contest. The pretend skates hang comically over my feet, leaving them free to fit on real skates.

I stand up, wriggling myself into the huge puck, who’s wearing a large Washington Blades jersey. The puck is set at an angle and pulls over my head, leaving my arms free.

Surely I won’t be the only one who finds Puck the Mascot freaky. How many kids am I going to send into crying fits today?

The costume fits with straps over my shoulders. It’s heavy, and I take a careful step forward.

I understand now why it’s always Betas who are hired as mascots.

Skating with this around me is going to be fun in an entirely unfun way.

But then, I love a challenge.

I take a deep breath, before fitting the rest of the puck over my head by a chin strap, trapping myself in the dark.

I stare around the room.

It’s going to be even more fun skating, when looking through these eyepieces is like looking through a tube.

I have no peripheral vision.

I’m definitely going to fall on my ass now.

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