Claimed on Ice: Marked by the Rival Captain

Theo POV

I have always hated championship games because they change people into someone you barely recognize.

The arena was loud around me. Thousands of voices were shouting against the glass so hard that I could feel the vibration every time my skates moved across the ice. The overhead lights made everything look really sharp under the scoreboard that was hanging above us like a verdict waiting to happen.

IRONCLAW TITANS. 3. NORTHCREST ROYALS. 3

There were forty-three seconds left. One goal would end the game.

I bent low at the face-off circle. I held my stick tight while cold air was burning through my lungs. My muscles felt like they were being held together by adrenaline. Under my gear, suppressant patches were on my skin. I was used to them by now.

Across the ice, Dominic Vale was watching me. He always did.

For three years, I pretended not to notice it during press conferences, airport interviews, and crowded hallways outside locker rooms. Dominic looked at people like he was quietly taking them apart piece by piece, but somehow, he always looked at me longer.

Under the arena lights, I could see him perfectly. Sweat was making his hair look dark beneath his helmet, and his shoulders looked broad beneath the Royals jersey, built from years of playing hockey. His jaw had clearly been broken once. It healed slightly crooked in a way that only made him look more dangerous. His hazel eyes were locked on mine.

He said, "Try not to cry when we win this game, sweetheart."

I laughed under my breath. "Try not to break a hip, grandpa," I said back to him.

He was twenty-eight years old, and irritating him had become one of my favorite things to do.

The referee dropped the puck. Everything became instinct. I moved before the thought could catch up. The puck was on my blade as the crowd erupted around us. I cut past the Royals defenseman fast enough for cold air to slice against my face.

I only needed one opening, half a second, and one clean shot.

Then Dominic Vale hit me.

The collision was strong. It threw me hard into the boards. The glass shook behind me as air vanished from my lungs, and the puck disappeared somewhere down the rink. For one disoriented second, all I saw were the arena lights.

Then I felt it. The injector beneath my gear shattered.

I was filled with dread as cooling liquid soaked across my ribs beneath my compression layers. I knew exactly what would happen next. Heat started beneath my skin, subtle enough that nobody else would notice but impossible for me to mistake. My scent glands reacted immediately. Panic twisted low in my stomach as warmth spread through my bloodstream.

Not enough for the crowd to notice. Not enough for my teammates.

Enough for an Alpha standing fifteen feet away.

I pushed myself upright quickly, my chest heaving beneath my gear. I needed to leave before my body betrayed me. Dominic grabbed my arm before I made it two steps.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his grip tightening slightly around my arm.

The second he touched me, my entire body reacted. I tore my arm free immediately.

"Do not touch me," I said.

The sharpness in my voice cut between us. Dominic narrowed his eyes as he studied me carefully. I skated away before he could stop me again.

The game continued around me in chaos. Bodies slammed against the glass while coaches shouted over screaming crowds and skates carved across the ice, but I barely registered any of it. My heartbeat felt wrong inside my chest, fast and painfully uneven. Beneath the arena air, something faint and sweet slipped through my skin despite every suppressant still in my system.

Fear settled heavily inside me, quiet and certain.

I turned toward the bench. I skated harder, ignoring my coach shouting my name behind me along with the final seconds that had mattered more than anything only minutes earlier. None of it mattered now. The only things that existed were the hallway, the locker room, and the emergency suppressant buried inside my bag.

I had maybe five minutes left.

Somewhere behind me, swallowed by the roar of the arena, the buzzer sounded for sudden-death overtime. I never looked back.

The hallway blurred as heat spread deeper into my bloodstream. Stress always made crashes worse, and knowing Dominic Vale had been close enough to notice made everything unbearable in ways I refused to examine too closely. I shoved through the medical bathroom door, locked it behind me, and collapsed onto the tile floor. My hands shook as I tore through my bag, sending bottles and rolls of tape scattering across the ground.

Then finally, I found it. Relief washed through me so quickly it almost made me dizzy as I stared at the emergency suppressant in my hands.

Footsteps echoed outside the door. Controlled. Unhurried. Familiar enough to make my stomach drop instantly. It was the kind of recognition your body felt before your mind could deny it.

A quiet knock followed, deliberate and polite in the way dangerous people often were.

"Theo," Dominic said through the door, his voice low and calm.

Pain twisted sharply through my chest. Maybe if I stayed still, he would leave.

"I know you're in there," he added quietly. There was no uncertainty in his voice.

The suppressant felt ice-cold in my hands while silence settled outside the door. Then I heard him inhale slowly and deeply, the kind of breath that sounded older than restraint itself.

Alphas only breathed like that for one reason.

Suddenly, Dominic Vale no longer sounded like my rival captain. He sounded hungry.

My stomach tightened as another wave of heat rolled through me, sharper this time. Outside the bathroom, Dominic let out a sound in his throat, restrained and rough like he was losing a fight with himself.

To my absolute horror, my body answered him anyway.