Page 89 of Puck Your Charity

"Read to me." He turns his head, a genuine, soft smile touching his lips.

I open to the first chapter. I keep one hand linked with his and hold the book with the other. My voice fills the quiet room. I read through three chapters. I do terrible voices for the different characters to keep him entertained.

Victor stays awake for the first hour, listening to my voice. He interjects with sarcastic comments about the plot holes, makingme laugh. We put the book down and talk about Sam. We talk about the future. The trauma from his past holds no power in this room.

By the second hour, the exhaustion from the injections catches up to him. His eyes drift shut. He dozes off, lulled to sleep by the hum of the machine and the sound of my voice.

I watch him rest. A profound sense of pride swells in my chest. Thinking back to our first disastrous meeting in the hallway outside Sam's room, the contrast feels staggering. He transformed from an arrogant Alpha into a selfless, devoted protector. He faced his worst nightmare and conquered it for the sake of a ten-year-old kid.

The machine beeps, signaling the end of the collection cycle.

The nurse returns, smiling as she checks the full bag of stem cells. "Perfect. We got a fantastic yield. The courier waits outside to transport this to the pediatric floor."

She removes the needles from his arms, pressing small white bandages over the puncture sites. "You are all done, Mr. Sterling. Take it easy for the rest of the day. Drink plenty of water. The bone aches should fade within the next twenty-four hours."

Victor sits up, flexing his arms. He looks at the bag of stem cells resting on the tray.

"Thank you." He offers the nurse a sincere nod.

We walk back out into the waiting room. Finn, Lawrence, and Malcolm stand up when they see us.

"All done?" Finn stands up taller, his brown eyes searching Victor's face.

"All done." Victor offers a tired but triumphant grin. "They got what they needed."

Malcolm claps a broad hand on Victor's shoulder. "Good man. Let's get you home. You need rest, and we have The Alpha Cup Finals to prep for."

We walk out of the clinic and head toward the parked SUV.

I walk next to Victor, his arm wrapped secure around my waist. The crisp spring air feels refreshing. The future looks bright. I got my dream job back, and the pack stands united. We just have to win one more hockey game.

Chapter 26

Ipull the thick yellow laces on my left skate tight. The stiff leather digs into my ankle, locking my foot in place. I tie a double knot and drop my boot onto the rubber mat.

The locker room hums with a tense, electric current.

The Alpha Cup Finals. We stand one win away from the trophy.

I grab my shin guards from the metal hook inside my stall. A week passed since the stem cell clinic. The intense, punishing bone aches vanished four days ago, leaving my energy levels right back at their peak. The team doctor gave me full clearance to play in the final round this morning. Knowing Sam gets asecond chance at life clears all the toxic noise out of my head. I feel grounded and focused.

I look across the crowded room.

Finn sits on his bench, adjusting the thick straps of his goalie pads. He stares at the concrete wall, running through his mental block routine. Lawrence tapes the blade of his composite stick with fast, precise motions. Malcolm tightens the chin strap on his helmet, his dark eyes scanning the room with unyielding calm.

A month ago, I played hockey like a lone wolf. I used my anger to fuel my shifts on the ice. I ignored my linemates and chased the puck with blind, reckless aggression. I wanted the glory to cover up my internal failures.

Olive changed the foundation of this team.

She sits up in the VIP box right now with my Uncle Rhett and his Omega and pack mate. She wears my gold and black jersey. She waits for us to bring the Cup home. Knowing she belongs to us changes the way I breathe. It changes the way I skate. I don't fight the world anymore. I fight for my pack.

Coach walks into the center of the room. He wears a tailored suit and a grim, determined expression.

"This is it, boys." Coach looks around the room, meeting our eyes one by one. "You bled for this all season. You fought through the worst injuries. You survived the brutal travel schedule. Now you leave it all on the ice. We don't want excuses. We want a win."

We stand up from the benches. A loud, unified roar goes up from the team. We clash our sticks against the rubber floor mats.

I grab my helmet and pull it over my head. I snap the strap into place.