Chapter 39 Remi
Two weeks later
The ice is cold, fast, and mine.
I glide backward across the center circle, my blades carving deep edges into the frozen surface.
The skates I'm wearing today aren't the dull plastic rentals I wore last week because my own were cut off my feet.
They're custom-fitted, stiff white leather with carbon-steel blades.
The gift showed up at our home yesterday morning with a card signed by Knox, Steele, and Crew.
I do a tight crossover, feeling the familiar, grounding shift of my center of gravity.
My right knee is encased in a tight compression sleeve now, which is a massive upgrade from the heavy brace I've worn for months.
It has healed ahead of schedule, though my doctors have made it clear I still can't jump on it for a few more months.
I stop with a icy spray of snow.
"Alright, girls," I call out, my voice echoing easily off the high ceiling of the Pinnacle's practice rink. "Let's line up on the blue line. We're going to run the footwork sequence again, and this time I want you to focus entirely on your edges. Don't rush it."
Three junior figure skaters scramble to the line, their colorful jackets a blur against the white.
It was a small class to start, but word travelled fast. Especially with Sophia's mother spending the past few weeks telling the other parents that an Olympian was on the practice rink.
Soon I had three sets of parents practically vibrating with awe when they dropped their daughters off the first time.
Right in the middle is Sophia, wearing her pink jacket, her dark ponytail pulled tight. She gives me a nod before setting her face in absolute concentration.
It's Monday morning and the energy on the ice is exactly what it should be.
"Shoulders pinned," I remind them, slowly skating backward as the line of girls begins the sequence, gliding toward me. "Sophia, keep your chin up. Trust your core."
Sophia corrects her posture instantly, her little skates weaving through the complex turn with a grace she didn't possess before.
For the last ten years of my life, the ice was a battlefield.
It was a place of isolation, punishing physical demands, and the overwhelming pressure to be perfect.
My body was a machine maintained by medical suppressants, fighting a war against its own biology just for a chance at a gold medal that slipped away the moment my body gave up on me.
I thought losing the Olympics meant losing the ice. I thought losing my battle with my biology meant losing my autonomy.
I was wrong about everything.
I'm not fighting my body anymore. The heat is over. My hormones balanced for the first time in my adult life.
I reach up, my gloved fingers lightly brushing the collar of my heavy jacket. Beneath the fabric, nestled in the curve of my neck, are my alphas' marks.
I'm an omega.
I'm claimed.
And now I'm teaching the next generation of skaters how to fly across the ice.
Which proves omegas can do anything.
"Perfect, Sophia!" I clap my hands as she finishes the sequence with a clean edge-out. "That was beautiful. Everyone, that was a great job today. Hit the boards, drink some water, and I'll see you back here tomorrow at eleven."
The girls cheer, a chaotic scramble of giggles and scraping blades as they rush to the bench.
"Thank you, Coach Remi!" Sophia yells over her shoulder.
Coach Remi.
I smile, the title fitting me better than any Olympic medal ever could. I do one lap of the rink just for the sheer joy of it, feeling the cold air bite my cheeks, before turning toward the exit gate.
But as I near the boards, three men are standing in the tunnel shadows, watching me.
And my heart does a hard skip.
Crew is leaning against the glass, wearing his team tracksuit, a slow, devastating smile spreading across his face as I skate closer. Beside him, Steele is holding two coffees, his massive shoulders relaxed, his gray eyes tracking my every movement on the ice with unapologetic pride.
And standing perfectly centered between them is Knox. He's wearing a tailored charcoal suit that looks completely out of place in a freezing hockey arena, but he commands the space effortlessly. His hands are in his pockets, his eyes locked entirely on me.
My alphas. My pack.
I unlatch the heavy plastic gate and step off the ice, pulling my blade guards from my pocket and snapping them into place. Before I can even take a step toward the locker room, the three of them close the distance.
Crew reaches me first. He wraps a warm arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his side, burying his nose in my hair.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice warm. "You look as if you own the place."
"Only the ice," I say, leaning into his solid heat.
"Here," Steele says, handing me a coffee. "Decaf, two sugars. You were grinning so hard out there I thought your face was going to freeze."
"I missed it," I admit, taking the warm cup and letting the heat sink into my palms. I look up at the three of them. "What are you guys doing here?"
"We came to walk you out. Besides, Knox insisted."
I turn to Knox.
"You look happy, Remi," Knox says quietly.
"I am. Isabella called me to let me know the mystery gift giver—"
"Stalker," Knox finishes sternly.
"But he was caught sneaking into her apartment."
"Marco caught him, and he admitted everything. The police are dealing with him as we speak."
I smile. "Do you know Isabella's thinking about moving to New York."
"Yes," Knox grunts.
"I'm sure River will check in on her," Crew adds.
"I'm sure he will," I say, trying to hold back my laughter.
"Can we not talk about Isabella for now?" Knox reaches out, his large hand gently brushing a stray strand away from my cheek. His thumb grazes the line of my jaw, coming to rest right over his mark on my neck. "We have other news."
"Okay. What is it?"
"Are you ready to live with all your alphas?" Knox asks.
I blink, looking between my mates.
"Knox's house," Crew says smoothly. "He practically got on his knees and begged us to move in yesterday, and then made us keep it a secret until we were moved in."
"I did not beg," Knox says flatly.
"You strongly suggested it," Steele corrects, taking a sip of his coffee. "In fact it was remarkably close to begging."
"I simply pointed out that my residence has enough space for a pack of four, whereas a two-bedroom apartment does not," Knox replies, though the corner of his mouth twitches.
"You finally agreed," I say.
"Of course he did, he really loves us. And we let him beg a little because—" Crew slides his arm around my waist, "—we realized we'd do anything for you, Remi.
Even permanently live with this guy. So our pack is officially under one roof.
And our new teammate is about to be very happy when we hand him our apartment keys. "
"So, are you ready to go home?" Knox asks.
I look at the bright white surface scratched and scored with the evidence of a good morning's work.
My career isn't over. It just changed shape.
Then I look at the three men standing in front of me, their combined scent surrounding me.
"Yes," I say, grabbing Crew's hand and giving Steele a brilliant smile. "Take me home."