Page 3 of Puck & Her Blades

The word parents tastes like ash in my mouth.

The moment that I wasn’t perfect any more — wasn’t able to bring them prestige, sponsorship, or money — they rejected me.

The moment that I wasn’t able to compete.

I guess that they’re no longer my parents or I’m not their daughter.

It chokes me to think that, and my eyes burn with tears. I struggle not to let them fall.

I’m going to a pack who want me now, right? I buzz with anticipation and nerves to find out who they are.

Lopez pushes my wavy blonde hair back from my face in efficient motions. “Nonsense. Your file contains everything about you, including your hospital bills. With all the physical therapy that you received, you’re fit enough now.”

“Apart from the chronic pain,” I mutter.

Lopez waves her hand dismissively. “It’s invisible. So, don’t bother other people about it.”

Asshole.

I clench my hands, biting my tongue. “Huh, just call me the Invisible Omega.”

I can’t help the anguish that floods me.

Lopez wrinkles her nose at my distressed pheromones. “Calm yourself. Look how pretty we’ve helped you to look. The beautician has done such a good job with your makeup. Such an interesting shade of purple lipstick. I must ask her what it is. Now, don’t spoil it by smelling horrible and distressed for your new pack. Trust me, making a good first impression is crucial for a Reject’s happiness. Come on. I never normally deliver this late but I’m making an exception because there’s an important game going on tonight.”

Game?

“What?” My brow furrows. “Where are we?”

Since I was pulled out of my cold cell this morning, before I was dressed in a white silk dress like a virgin sacrifice (and unfortunately, that’s pretty accurate), no one’s told me anything about the mysterious pack who bid on me without even seeing me in person.

I’ve been held in the Institute’s hospital, followed by intense physical therapy and rehabilitation exercises for the last year, since I crashed and burned at what should have been the biggest night of my life.

My greatest triumph.

I was competing in the finals of the World Figure Skating Championships.

I spent my entire life focused, sacrificing, and training for the shot at winning.

Only, it was the night that I lost it all.

I was the first Omega to have been allowed to compete because my parents were the legendary triple gold medal winning bonded Alpha pair, the Monroes.

Our pack held the world record.

Their status meant that there was global interest in seeing their Omega daughter, named Ice after my silver eyes, skating at such a high level.

I proved that I deserved my place in every round.

I had to be at least twice as good as every Alpha.

After all, the officials never put it into the rules that no Omega could compete because they didn’t need to. No pack allowed their Omegas to learn to skate or take part in competitive sports.

My parents were the exception because they weren’t going to let the fact they hadn’t had an Alpha child stop the dynasty continuing.

They wanted another gold medal to add to their three.

One of my first memories is of them showing me their medals and draping them around my neck.

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