Page 135 of Knot Only His

“Such as what?”

“Give them what they need. A baby. You know how much they want it.”

My heart flutters. “But only if they win the game,” I tell Asher.

“If they win, will you?”

I meet his gaze, seeing the hope in his eyes.

“How do I send that through the bond?”

“Send a promise. Love.” His teeth scrape over his bottom lip. “Think about a baby as you do it.”

Through our pack bond, I push the promise to all my alphas - a baby if they win.

And the effect is instant.

Oliver bursts forward with renewed energy, stealing the puck mid-pass. Carver’s movements become sharper, more focused as he positions himself near the goal.

Parker turns from his spot by the bench, flashing me a knowing grin that makes my cheeks heat.

Asher’s arms tighten around me. “Look what you did.”

My heart aches with so much pride and love.

My alphas now move with deadly precision on the ice, fighting for more than just a game now.

My knuckles are aching, I’m grasping the bar so tight.

“Go for it, Oliver.”

My eyes dart between the clock and the ice.

Two minutes left.

The Bears are getting desperate, their movements becoming more aggressive.

My heart stops as number forty-seven charges straight for Carver. The hit sends him crashing into the boards with a sickening thud.

Through our bond, I feel a flash of pain that makes me gasp.

Carver knows I feel it, and anger replaces it, then quickly it turns to calm.

“He’s okay,” Asher murmurs, but his grip on me tightens.

Carver pushes off the boards and slams forty-seven back, harder.

The crowd erupts, screaming at the ref, who simply waves to play on.

My fingers dig into Asher’s arm as I watch Carver’s jaw clench, that familiar ice-cold focus taking over.

One minute and thirty seconds left on the clock.

Oliver controls the puck now, weaving through defenders like they’re standing still. My breath catches as Carver swings wide around the net, a move I’ve seen countless times during our New York days.

“Come on, come on,” I whisper, my whole body trembling with anticipation.

Oliver inches closer to the net, drawing the defenders in. But his eyes flick to Carver.

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