Page 3 of Slash Me Savagely

But my gaze lingered on her just a heartbeat longer before turning back to focus on the ice.

The game picked up speed after our goal, and the energy surged through the arena like an electric current. I felt alive, every muscle in my body pulsing with the rhythm of the game.

But then I noticed something shift in the atmosphere. The Reapers were known for their dirty play, and it didn’t take long before that reputation reared its ugly head. A hard check sent one of our guys sprawling into the boards, his body crumpling like a rag doll.

“Get up, man!” I shouted as he groaned on the ice.

The crowd roared with excitement, but there was an edge to it—a sharp anticipation that sliced through the usual cheers. It wasn’t long before fists started flying. A scuffle broke out near the blue line, two players locked in a tight embrace, swinging wildly at each other like they were trapped in a storm.

The Reapers thrived on chaos; we lived for it. Rumors swirled around us—whispers of curses and demons lurking within our ranks. Each time we faced anyone, we wanted them to feel like they were stepping into a dark abyss where nothing was off-limits.

I shook my head. I’d do anything for my team. They were my brothers—the ones who fought beside me every night on that ice. If anyone threatened them, hell would have to freeze over before I let it happen.

As bodies collided and shouts erupted around me, I caught sight of Wolfe squaring off against one of their forwards—some asshole with a face you just wanted to fucking crosscheck. Wolfe had always been more of a talker, but he didn’t back down from anyone.

“C’mon, Wolfe!” I yelled as he landed a solid punch.

His opponent retaliated, but he kept coming—driven by pure adrenaline and determination.

“Let’s show these bastards what we’re made of!” someone bellowed from the bench.

I leaned forward against the boards, heart racing as if I were in that fight myself. My fists clenched tight; I could feel theanger bubbling beneath my skin. We didn’t just want to win—we wanted to break them.

I scanned the ice again, watching as more players piled into the fray. There was no hesitation on my part—I’d jump into that brawl if needed because every last one of those guys mattered to me more than anything else in this world.

Then another figure caught my eye—the girl from earlier—her wide eyes fixed on the chaos unfolding before her. Fear danced across her face as she leaned forward in her seat, almost willing herself to intervene.

But something else was in those eyes.

Something that made me smirk.

As scared as she was, there was curiosity in that gaze. Curiosity and desire.

Chapter 3

Gemma

The game had been a frenzy of noise and chaos. Bodies collided, blood sprayed, and the air thickened with the smell of sweat and something metallic. I stood near the exit, still processing what I’d just witnessed.

"Ready?" I asked, trying to shake off the adrenaline.

“Hell no,” Rob shot back, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “As a season ticket holder, I get to meet the team after the game. And you get to take pictures for me.”

He pinched my cheek, that annoying gesture that made me feel five years old again.

I pulled away, rolling my eyes. Meeting the team? My stomach churned at the thought. The players loomed larger than life on the field, but up close? I wasn’t sure I wanted to see their smug grins or hear their loud laughter echoing in this echo chamber of brutality.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Rob nudged me with his elbow, his excitement infectious despite my reservations.

“Fun?” I shook my head. “You call watching those guys beat each other senseless fun?”

“It's not about that.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s about being part of something big! The energy! The camaraderie! You’ll see.”

I glanced around at the throng of fans pouring out of the arena, faces flushed with excitement or shock—some wore expressions like they’d just seen a horror movie. I shifted from foot to foot, feeling out of place in my oversized hoodie I put on after the game was over and the adrenaline wore off while everyone else seemed dressed for battle.

“They’re just people,” I said quietly, wishing to quell his enthusiasm without sounding like a wet blanket.

Rob scoffed. “Just people? Nah! They’re gladiators! Warriors!”

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