Page 36 of Their Obsession

Thirty seconds left and the puck is being passed amongst the Pack. My palms are sweating, and I catch myself holding my breath as I watch our team struggle to regain the upper hand.

“Come on,” I whisper to myself.

The Wolves get a breakaway. Two of their players run the puck down the ice. They’re flying. Noah’s the last line of defense again. But this time, he takes the offensive. He engages them, striking out as they attempt to pass. He nabs the puck, stealing it from them and sends it flying down the ice. The entire arena is on their feet as the puck soars down the rink. Noah’s incredible pass lands right on the tape of Dom’s stick. The energy is electric, like a lightning storm is in the atmosphere.

10 seconds left.

Dom moves in towards the net. The Wolves are closing in fast. But he’s faster. He pulls his stick back and lets it loose. The slapshot seems to pulse in the air as it cuts across the space towards the goal. The goalie throws out his glove, and I hold my breath.

The arena erupts. Everyone is on their feet. The flashing red light and blaring horn are almost lost in the sea of victory screams. He did it. We won!

Emily throws her arms around me as we jump up and down and shout along with everyone else. As we spin and dance, I catch glimpses of the players. The players in white and orange all have their heads hung as they solemnly skate off the ice. The players in black and teal have all rushed on the ice. I can’t makeout who’s who in the huddle of bodies. My eyes drift back around the arena—to the crowd that’s cheering and screaming; not a single body is left in their seats. This is what we needed—not just a win, but a victory.

Eventually the crowd thins and the cheering begins to die down as fans head to their cars. The announcers are running through the stats of the game. That means the three stars will be next.

“Come on!” I grab Emily’s hand and lead her up towards the exit.

Winding our way through the crowd, we make it to the ‘Staff Only’ door and I badge us in. I realize I’m essentially dragging her behind me as she tries to keep up.

“Where are we going?” she hollers from behind me but I don’t answer.

We swiftly move through the maze of tunnels until we pass the locker rooms. The cheering and hollering from inside tells me that most are already in there celebrating. I quicken my steps down the tunnel towards the ice, letting go of Emily’s hand and running.

“Lil!” Emily calls after me but I don’t stop or turn.

I run at full speed until I see them. The silhouette of three figures, their faces obscured by the lights shining behind them. I can immediately tell who’s who based solely on their shadowed outlines.

“Noah!” I yell down the tunnel trying to grab his attention over the roars still coming from the crowd beyond.

One of the darkened figures snaps their heads quickly in my direction, and I bound towards him. When I get close enough, I can see the warm smile spread across his face. He’s taller in his skates—nearly six-four, but I’ve got a running start. When I’m close enough, I jump up and throw my arms around his neck. He stills for a moment, in shock, before wrapping his large armsaround me and holding me against him. I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him. He smells like salty sweat but beneath it is his warm coconut scent. I bury my nose in his neck and savor him. He’s my calm in the storm. His warmth and strength immediately calm me.

The man next to us tenses. Dom has always been huge but on skates and with his gear—he’simposing. I know what they call him in the league. There’s a reason he earned that nickname. The tension radiating off him currently would be enough to send most skittering away. But I’m done letting Dom dictate what we do. I’ve been scared for too long.

“Third star of the game is your Southern Storm goaltender—Will Salazar.” the announcer’s voice ricochets off the metal walls, shaking the entire building.

The crowd cheers as the third man in the tunnel leaves to make his short lap on the ice. As soon as he’s out of eyesight, Dom’s dark form closes the distance until he’s barely a whisper away from where Noah and I are joined. His thick fingers weave into my hair, snapping my head back. I hiss in pain as he pulls at my scalp. Wordlessly, he uses the hold on my hair to drag my face towards Noah’s, forcing our lips to meet in a punishing kiss. It’s not gentle or sweet—it’s fast and full of simmering need. Next to us, Dom growls in approval. I roll my hips against Noah, seeking more. But just as quickly as it started, it stops. Dom jerks my head back, forcing the kiss to end before leaning down and claiming my mouth with his own. His tongue slips past my lips to tangle with my own. I moan into his mouth, and he greedily swallows down my pleasure. Noah’s taste is still on my tongue as Dom licks it up.

“Fuck,” Noah whispers as he continues to hold me. I cling to his jersey and grind my hips against him again as he watches me kiss another man. “You’re so fucking sexy, Sunshine.”

I’m being shared between the two of them. This is so wrong,and yet, it feels like this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

“Second star of the game and making a bid for Defenseman of the Year, the Storm’s very own Noah Kolgrim.” the announcer’s booming voice sounds through the arena.

Both men drop me simultaneously. Backing away right as Salazar re-enters the tunnel and walks past. I nod my head and offer him a weak smile, my cheeks burning. Noah gives me a sweet smirk before heading onto the ice to do his lap.

“He’s a nice guy, Dom. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt,” I say as soon as Noah’s out of earshot.

His dark eyes bore down into me. The dark, damp hair has mostly been pushed back out of his face but one single dark lock has fallen back across his forehead. I have the urge to reach out and right it. But Dom is always like a viper—waiting for you to get close enough for him to strike. Something crosses his face, an emotion I don’t recognize.

“I agree,” he growls as he takes a step towards me.

I take a step back, keeping the distance between us.

Dom’s dark eyes narrow as he assesses me. “Don’t run from me, Lilliana. Don’t run from this. You’re ours, little one.Ourobsession.”

“Lilly!” Emily’s bright voice cuts through the tension and pulls me from the spell Dom’s dark stare had put me under. “There you are! You say goodbye to Noah?” Her narrowed eyes pointedly land on the man next to me. She hates Dmitri after what happened, but if she knew the whole truth, it’d probably be me she hated. “Ready to go?”

“And tonight’s first star of the game, the newest player to join the Storm, and tonight’s winning goal scorer—The Raging Russian himself—Dmitri Volkkon,” the announcer’s drawn out announcement booms through the speakers.

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