Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Sudden Death - Overtime where the first goal ends the game.
Phoenix
For a moment I wasn't even sure I'd heard him correctly, and I edged closer, one foot at a time, not daring to get too close in case I spooked him. “Can you come back from the edge? Please?”
He didn’t answer. Just stared at the horizon.
The wind whipped around us, carrying the smell of hot stone and something else. Something sharp, electric, I felt in my bones.
I tried again. “If you’re going to stay out here, at least don’t do it alone.”
He let out a breath. I heard it, shaky and thin. Then, without a word, he slid off the rock, landing heavily. For a second I thought he was going to collapse, but he straightened and hunched over, hair falling into his eyes. Then, abruptly, he sat down.
I let out a sound, half relief, half sob. My knees nearly gave out, but I went to him. Not touching, just close enough that if he reached out, I’d be there.
Ignatius and Keegan stopped a few feet away, silent.
Neither of them tried to come closer. It was like they knew this was something only I could do.
For a long time, he didn’t speak. I didn’t, either.
I just breathed in the heat rolling off his skin, the weird not-smoke scent that clung to him.
It made my eyes water at first, but then it was familiar, safe.
After a while, he said, “You shouldn’t have come.”
I shook my head. “Not leaving you alone up here.”
He turned to me. “You were leaving anyway.”
There was so much I had to say. “I panicked because I don’t deserve you. I heard what your dad said and didn't know how to deal.”
He glanced back at Keegan and Ignatius as if noticing them for the first time. “I don’t want to be me anymore. I want to be free, even if that’s bad.”
Ignatius took a step forward. “Son, I can help. You're not on your own.”
Cole glanced back out at the sheer drop that made me feel sick even thinking about it. “I thought it would make me break free of the binding, or if it didn’t, then I wouldn’t have to live like this anymore.”
“This is what your father threatened,” I said, sure but still not understanding. I moved closer to him, the heat rolling off him like a furnace, but Cole got to his feet, took another step back, way too close to the edge.
“I need you safe.”
“Safe?” I huffed out a breath, too shaky to even sound annoyed. “You think I give a shit about safe? I've never had safe.”
He stared at me. Just stared. The red in his eyes was fading, but it was still there. Like he couldn’t quite put the mask back on yet.
I got up and moved closer, not touching but close enough he could if he wanted. “I’m not going anywhere, Cole. Even if you do…whatever you do. You can’t scare me off. Not anymore.”
He looked down at his hands, knuckles scraped raw. “You should, though. You saw what happened on the ice.”
What did happen on the ice? It was weird and fucked up, but now wasn't the time. I wanted to reach out, but the memory of his father’s words was fresh.
Binding, rebinding, control. Like he was worse than dangerous, like he was a bomb waiting to go off.
I knew what that felt like. Growing up, a lot of foster placements expected that. For you to detonate.
“You’re not some monster. You took care of me when you should have thrown me out."
"So you're grateful?" he whispered the words.
"Of course I'm grateful, but that's not why I'm here." He didn’t answer, just looked down as if he was ashamed. I hated it. I wanted him to look at me, to see the truth of it, but I didn’t push.
The others hung back, silent. I could feel their eyes on us, but they didn’t interrupt.
Finally, Cole dragged in a breath. “I can’t go back. Not yet. If he brings that elder here, it’s over. They’ll shut me down so hard I won’t even remember my own name.”
I frowned. “What does that even mean? What do they do?”
He glanced at me, then away. “It’s like… I don’t know. If you try to stuff the whole world in a bottle and then screw the cap on until it cracks. That’s what the binding feels like. You can’t breathe, but you have to pretend you’re fine. And if you ever slip, even a little…someone gets hurt.”
My chest went tight. “You never hurt me. Not once, even when I deserved it.”
He shook his head, rough. “Not yet. But I will. That’s what they do. They get in your head, they twist it, and then you’re just collateral damage. You, the team, everyone.”
I wasn’t going to let him spiral. I wasn’t.
I reached out, just enough to let my hand brush his arm. “You’re not alone. Keegan said so. You’re not the only one.”
That got his attention. He blinked at me, then over at the truck, where Keegan and Ignatius stood, both stone-faced and weirdly gentle at the same time.
He swallowed. “I thought I was. My whole life, I thought I was.”
Cole
I stood at the edge of the cliff, my heart pounding so hard I thought my ribcage would crack. Ignatius’s face hovered in my vision—his mouth a hard line, but not in anger. I recognized something else there: disappointment. Maybe even shame. Not at Phoenix. Not at me. He shook his head.
“You should never have been bound like that,” he said quietly. His voice carried across the thin air. “That’s not what our kind does. It’s what people who fear us do. Your father was wrong, Cole. He was wrong then, and he’s wrong now.”
Every muscle in me clenched. My jaw felt ready to splinter. The heat beneath my skin still roiled, begging for release. I played the scene over and over—my arms pinned, my power throttled by those cruel restraints.
Keegan edged closer, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “My uncle’s right,” he said, his grin half-soft. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. And I don’t think we’re the only ones like this on the team.”
My gaze shot to Keegan in astonishment. Him, clearly. But how did he know? Did being bound mean I couldn’t recognize this in others?
“You’re not a monster,” Ignatius continued, stepping forward so his calm presence steadied me. “You’re not broken. The binding your father forced on you—it was nothing but fear and control. That’s cruelty, Cole, not power.”
My voice came out ragged. “He said it was the only way. That I’d kill someone if I didn’t let him do it. I hurt someone at school.”
Ignatius shook his head, slow and deliberate. “But I’m assuming you didn’t know your heritage? You should have been prepared. First shifts aren’t dangerous when they’re helped by someone with experience, and I’m guessing you don’t have that? Your father? Mother?”
Cole shook his head. “They said it was a dangerous genetic condition inherited from my grandfather who died when I was barely five.”
Ignatius arched an eyebrow. “That’s rare—to skip a generation.” His next promise anchored me: “You’ve clearly done some research on your own, but you’re not alone, Cole. Not ever again. Not unless you choose to be.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding—for years, it felt like. “I don’t want to be alone. Not anymore.”
“Good,” he said. “Now step away from the edge before you give your true mate a heart attack.”
True mate. That phrase crushed me with its strangeness. I felt Phoenix’s eyes on me—his confusion, his fear for me. He still didn’t understand. I didn’t understand myself other than what I’d overheard my father say when he thought I wasn’t listening.
But I moved. I stepped back. Keegan hovered, ready to catch me if I fell. I didn’t look away from Ignatius until we all turned for the truck. He held the door open without another word. Keegan drove his and Ignatius drove mine.
The drive down the mountain was silent and calm—nothing like the emptiness I’d felt on the ice rink after the game. Phoenix climbed in beside me, touching. He still hadn’t asked the million questions I expected, maybe he didn’t want to know.
“We need to go to my home,” Ignatius said, his tone businesslike. “I have to contact people. I don’t trust your father not to come for you.”
Phoenix glanced at me, uncertainty in his eyes, and asked, “Do you want me there?”
The question touched something raw in me—two days ago I’d barely known how to be around him without fear. Now I realized how much I needed someone who chose to stay. I let the quiet stretch, then whispered, “Yeah. I want you there.”
His relief was visible; Ignatius nodded as if he’d known all along. I watched the city flicker past the window, my hands twisting in my lap.
We reached a private gate. When we finally stopped, Ignatius led us inside a grand house of glass and stone that felt both warm and strangely hollow. Keegan hung back; I hesitated on the threshold, my pulse racing.
Doryu, Ignatius’s partner, greeted us with soft enthusiasm, then stepped aside. Ignatius called, “There’s juice in the fridge. Make yourselves comfortable. I’m cooking.”
Keegan gave me a look and slipped out to take a phone call. I stayed by the kitchen island, feeling exposed. Ignatius’s cooking smelled of spices and lamb.
Phoenix came over, hovered, and said, “You should drink something.”
I shook my head, but I didn't know why.
He crossed to the fridge, poured a glass of orange juice, and set it in front of me with trembling hands. I stared at it like it might shatter. Then I took it, hands shaking, and drank half in one swig.
Doryu reappeared with plates of pasta and warm bread, and just like that, in moments I was cornered on the couch between Phoenix and an audience of protectors. My chest tightened.
Ignatius waited until I'd eaten some then leaned forward. “Tell us what you know.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I had rehearsed this in silence for nights.
“I went to boarding school at nine. My father sent me there; I didn’t mind.
I was good at sports. At a rugby final, I scored four tries.
After the match, I walked back to the dorm alone—thought the families were at the party.
Five boys blocked the hallway. They shoved me around, called me a cheat, punched me. I fought back.”
I paused, tasting fear on my tongue. “Then Eric started screaming. His palm blistered—skin bubbling like burning plastic. I shoved him away and he fell, screaming. The others froze.”
Ignatius shifted. Keegan leaned in. Phoenix watched me, breath held.
“They called a nurse, the headmaster, then my father,” I said, voice rough. “He flew in furious—at me, not them. I was paraded through doctors who said I had a medical condition: electrical burns, no control over my body temperature. Pills, gloves at night, never get angry again.”
I swallowed. “Then Dad brought a new doctor—Hartsmore—with him.”
Ignatius’s eyes narrowed. “Alexander Hartsmore?”
“Yes. He said I was a monster. That if I didn’t do what they said I’d end up in a locked psychiatric ward.” My chest ached—every word was a fresh memory. Phoenix reached out and took my hand. I clung on.
Ignatius’s laugh was low. “Rubbish. You’re not a monster. you have an ancient ability, as old as the earth itself.”
Phoenix interrupted, and I didn’t blame him. “What ability?”
Ignatius glanced at us both. “You’ll discover it when his bonds break. They’re already disintegrating.”
Phoenix sucked in a breath and tried another question. “What did your father mean by ‘rebind’?”
My voice cracked. I knew he was going to leave, but I was sick of hiding. “To make sure the dragon inside of me never wakes up.”