A Twist of Luck (Shifter City Fated Mates #2)

Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

EMME

H e… winked at me.

Wait . Had I just imagined Finley skating closer, smiling at the family members in the stands, before he winked while looking at me? “Did I have a stroke?” I murmured, patting my chest to ensure my heart still beat.

Hunter shifted his huge shoulders, which jostled me into Slade, who stiffened but otherwise didn’t react. “Shifters don’t have strokes. Our bodies heal before a stroke would occur.”

“I don’t think she was posing that as a serious question,” Slade replied with a shake of his head.

Hunter examined me, and I hoped I managed the neutral expression I aimed for. “I might have been serious.”

Both alphas tilted their heads, and even if I wasn’t held in my seat by their bulk on either side, I couldn’t have moved a muscle under those domineering stares. “No,” Slade finally said. “I think she was trying to slot Finley into his usual place in her brain, but he’s not quite fitting as well.”

Damn him . “I hope you know it’s very irritating the way you correctly dissect and categorize my thoughts and actions.”

Slade looked pleased with himself as he hummed in agreement. Better than a grunt, I supposed.

“As I keep saying,” Hunter added as he sprawled back deeper in his chair, long legs smashing into the row in front of us, “our pack dynamics will all work out the way they’re supposed to, in the time they’re supposed to. This isn’t a sprint… it’s a journey. And we all started at a different place.”

Yep, both were too wise and annoying for their own good.

Barely resisting the urge to jam my elbows into their sides, which, let’s be real, would hurt me more than the alphas, I shut my mouth and watched the rest of warmups. Enjoying the playful way the hockey boys raced around the ice.

The game itself was serious most of the time, but this just looked like fun as they stretched and let off steam. It took a concerted effort not to react to Slade sitting right by my side this time, his jacket pressed against my jersey. Our skin didn’t touch, but the solid heat and weight of him was enough to have my wolf losing her shit.

Me too, if I was being honest.

There was a spare seat on his other side, and then we had Kenzo’s mates—Vanessa and Luce—who I’d briefly met. Ness was a gorgeous brunette with brown skin and eyes, and Luce was a vivacious blonde, with pale skin and hazel eyes. At the moment, they were focused on the ice and the warmups, watching Kenzo as he shoved Finley into the boards, before taking off with a laughing bear after him.

This carefree side to Finley was disconcerting, and I was absolutely struggling to slot him back into his regular place in my mind—firmly separated from the other three alphas in our quintet.

Focusing on the rows of chairs around us, I enjoyed seeing Kassidy beside Hunter. I couldn’t wait to catch up with her again. Beside her were Kellan’s brothers, who’d arrived with their pack mates and their gorgeous baby boy, Declan. I’d had no idea that Kellan was an uncle, and as I’d stared at the golden- haired little boy, there was a brief moment where I imagined another golden-haired little boy.

Who knew if babies were in my future, and I certainly didn’t want them now, but… maybe one day…

It was nice that the whole family had made the effort to be here today, driving the hour across the city to this rink. I’d personally thought it was far too short of a drive as I tore through the streets in the G-Wagen.

I’d met most of the family as they arrived, not that I could remember names, but they’d all been curiously polite in greeting. As expected, Hunter and Slade didn’t let any of them get close enough to touch me, which suited me just fine as it kept my skittish wolf from freaking out at being in a crowd again. So many strangers around us bothered me, and I had to consider that on top of the trauma from my upbringing, I likely had new trauma from my kidnapping.

My soul was littered with broken pieces, but I was confident that with time, I’d find my new normal.

I could feel the curious gazes on us, all of them wondering how our pack was making this semi-bonded quintet work. Most of them knew the circumstances of my arrival in Golden Claw, which explained a few cool stares from Kellan’s Aunt Georgia. She was single too, her mate having died in the last war. According to Hunter, she hadn’t been the same since, and I didn’t care how suspicious she was of me; my heart ached for the older shifter.

Kellan’s brothers though, had gushed all over me, and I would have been engulfed in a double-sided hug if Hunter and Slade weren’t doing their staring and growling thing—my possessive and obsessive stalkers.

Slade and I still hadn’t mentioned his stalker wall yet, though we were clearly both aware that the other knew. It was as if we played a game of uncle, to see who would remain quiet the longest. I was determined not to break first.

I straightened when the teams left the ice, the teal, white, and gold jerseys of the Celtic Wolves, along with the white and brown of the Golden Dashers. The crowd held a fairly even spread of team jerseys, and the energy contained more of a buzz than the last game I’d watched.

Hunter had told me on the way here that these teams were true rivals, both from the same city, and close in the league ranking. They’d actually met in the Shifter Cup last year, which was the pinnacle of the league. The Celtic Wolves had come out as victors, which explained the tension today… their first game since the cup.

“Their new center plays like a machine,” Hunter said, leaning forward in his seat as he closely observed the Golden Dashers leaving the ice.

“Finley can take him,” Slade noted without a shred of doubt in his pack mates. “He’s got more experience and heart, and both of those will make a difference in how it all plays out.”

Hunter grunted, and I assumed that was an agreement. Studying the side of his face, his five o’clock shadow was heavier than usual, but the tension that had lined his eyes while Kellan was under a magical attack had faded. His pack was currently safe, and he could finally relax.

A relaxed Hunter was an extra sexy Hunter, which didn’t bode well for me. He was dressed casually in a teal Henley and jeans, and I wanted to climb all over him like he was an adults-only jungle gym.

I couldn’t pinpoint when my feelings toward Hunter had changed so drastically. At first he’d been a scary, dominant alpha, who pushed me well past my comfort zone. But the more I got to know him…

It started with the way he’d pursued me without remorse or hesitation, letting me know in no uncertain terms that I was his . Continuing with the care and effort he put into looking after me, without ever showing an ounce of irritation that it was his responsibility. He appeared to enjoy it actually.

I was aware that a lot of his actions could be attributed to his entitled alpha obligations. He would always do what was right for his pack, and as the fifth of the quintet, he needed me to complete their bond…

A realization hit, and I stiffened in my chair as I finally figured out what had been holding me back from Hunter, when I’d gone all in with Kellan. I feared that my feelings outmatched his, and that to him I was an obligation. Whereas to me… he was my heart. Just like Kellan.

I had genuine feelings for the grouchy, bossy entitled alpha.

The start of the game was a thankful distraction from my thoughts, as the teams were announced, skating onto the ice in a flurry of green and blue strobe lights, doing a quick lap around the rink before it all got underway. Kellan won the first face-off, taking the puck through the other team quickly, before passing it off to another wolf.

The Dashers easily blocked their first attempt at goal, and then they had possession, racing back along the ice. It was a fast-paced game, and I was trying to keep up with my limited knowledge of hockey, only taking my eyes off the players when snacks arrived.

Delivered to us by Gerry, of all shifters.

“You’re supposed to be watching the game, not working,” I said with a frown as he handed Hunter hotdogs, fries, nachos, and drinks. “We can get our own food.”

He scoffed, shaking his head with a scowl. “I needed to ensure you got the best quality of what they had to offer. This is all made by my hand, and is as good as we can get here. The Annandale pack keeps our rink’s catering up to scratch, but here I don’t trust these Dashers.”

Three of Warrick’s pack ran the hospitality sector at the Celtic Wolves’ stadium, and I had to remember to compliment them the next time we caught up. Their food had been excellent.

“Well, thank you, Gerry,” I said as he tucked his empty tray under his arm. “Where are you sitting?”

He pointed to the row in front of us and down a couple of seats. Florence was seated in that section, a teal scarf wrapped around her neck, and a giant foam finger on her hand. She was laser-focused on the ice, while simultaneously stuffing a hotdog into her mouth with her free hand.

Goddess, I loved that shifter.

“Flo is a hardcore Celtic’s fan,” Gerry said, following the direction of my gaze. “And I’m a hardcore Florence fan. It all works out.”

My eyes widened, because that was news to me, while also making perfect sense. “Don’t leave your lady waiting, Gerry,” I ordered, shooing him away. “And thanks for the food.”

He tipped his head and then hurried back toward his seats, sliding in next to Florence. “Did you know about Flo and Gerry?” I murmured, looking between Hunter and Slade. They’d been quiet during the exchange, but I’d felt their stares as they kept me in their focus.

Always in their focus.

“We knew,” Hunter said as he held out another hotdog for me to take. “And you need to eat, little omega. I can feel your hunger.”

“That’s disturbing. You know that, right?” I glanced down at all the food precariously perched in my lap. “It’s actually not that easy to eat while balancing this much food. If I promise to eat, will you guys please take some of it.”

“We will hold it for you,” Slade told me as he lifted a few of the cardboard boxes off my lap. Hunter also took a few, and I could finally relax and enjoy my fully loaded hotdog, nachos, and icy cold beer. This was the freaking life.

Neither of the alphas took a single bite until I’d made it through a hotdog and nachos. Hunter tried to hand me another hotdog, but I shook my head. “One bite,” he purred close to my cheek, and I wondered if he was aware of just how many eyes were on us.

If he was, he absolutely did not care as he coaxed me to eat from his hand.

“I have nachos still,” I protested, gesturing to the third left in my disposable carton.

“One bite,” Slade murmured, his tone even deeper, the rumble more commanding. Like an absolute sap, who couldn’t refuse these alphas when they cared for my well-being, I bit into the bun.

“Good girl,” Slade said, and at the same time Hunter rasped, “There’s our good girl.”

I almost slipped off my chair as my panties took part in a slip-and-slide contest we were clearly winning.

Hunter’s nostrils flared; the gold in his eyes more pronounced. “Your scent, Emme, is going to start a war.”

“Destroy stadiums,” Slade confirmed, and I was surprised by the strain in his voice.

“Your fault,” I mumbled, and needing a distraction started shoveling the last of the nachos into my mouth like there was in an eating competition to go along with the slip-and-slide. It took a few seconds of laser-focusing on the ice again before Hunter and Slade returned to eating their own food.

The Dashers were an aggressive team, and within the first ten minutes there were multiple fights, with Christian ending up in the penalty box along with number seventy-four on the other team.

Both teams had great attempts at goal, but by the time the buzzer sounded on the first period, the score remained at zero.

“Is Finley hurt?” I asked, my food all gone now, which gave me plenty of time to nervously chew my nails and bounce my right knee. “He took a really hard hit from that Viking-looking asshole of a shifter.”

“Henderson’s a fucking pussy,” Tyson, Kellan’s brother, called from his seat. “Our boys will take him out at some point. I’m sure of it.”

“He’s hot,” Kassidy piped up, leaning forward so I could see her, “but I’d still like to beat him with a hockey stick.”

Henderson was number forty-six on the Dashers, and he reminded me of an ancient Viking warrior. As big as Finley, or even a little bigger, the alpha had blond hair tied back from his face, with multiple strands braided in his team colors. From here I wasn’t sure of his beast, but I’d guess wolf as he rumbled his way across the ice.

“Finley is fine,” Hunter said, but he sounded annoyed that anyone would dare beat up on his pack mates.

Without a word, Slade rose from his chair, and Hunter’s arm shot out around me to grab his brother’s shirt. “Do not fucking move,” he barked. “You need to let them fight their own battles here. This is sports, not combat.”

Slade stared into the empty rink, his expression hard, until he shrugged off Hunter’s hold and retook his seat. “No one fucks with my pack.”

I cleared my throat. “Are-are you planning on just straight-up murdering Henderson?”

Slade shrugged, and Hunter sighed like this wasn’t the first time the dragon had been halted from going on a little killing spree. He was a worry, for sure, though secretly I’d have paid good money to watch him beat a little humility into the arrogant center. Just a little.