Isla’s POV
The arena felt alive long before the first puck touched ice.
I could feel it vibrating through the floor of the private box, a low hum made of thousands of voices blending into one restless sound. It crawled up my legs and settled in my chest, rattling something already fragile. Outside the glass walls, the Silverfang Arena glowed in white and silver, banners hanging from the rafters like declarations of loyalty. Chase’s name was everywhere. On jerseys. On signs. Painted across faces. The Alpha. The Captain. The pride of the pack.
And tonight, for the first time since the wedding, he was playing again.
I stood near the back of the private box at first, fingers clasped together, my breath shallow. I wore a soft cream mask that covered the upper half of my face, delicate and e
