Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Neutral zone – The area between the offensive and the defensive zones.
Cole
Walking back into the arena felt like surfacing from deep water.
Everything smelled familiar—cold air, rubber, sweat, old tape, the metallic tang from the skate sharpeners. It hit me in the chest, warm and rough and grounding all at once.
Phoenix stayed close, his arm brushing mine now and then like he needed physical reassurance that I was still upright.
Or maybe I needed it more. He’d been quiet since we left Ignatius’s.
Not tense this time—just…careful. Like he wasn’t sure he should be here, but I wasn't about to let him be anywhere else.
The fans either accepted me for who I was or they didn't. It was a breath of fresh air after my father.
And besides, they knew Keegan was out. Not that anyone talked about it.
It was like everyone knew, but so long as you didn't shove it down their throats, they could claim plausible deniability.
I cleared my throat. “You should know what’s happening the next few days,” I said softly. “Just so it doesn’t feel like a whirlwind.”
He turned slightly, eyes flicking to mine. “Yeah. That'd be good.”
I nodded and shifted in the seat to face him a little more. “Okay. So. The All-Star Weekend is split into two main parts: the Skills Competition and then the mini-tournament.”
Phoenix listened with the kind of focus that made my dragon almost purr in approval.
“We fly to Toronto today, and tomorrow morning,” I continued, “I go through check-in, interviews, and the uniform fittings. Then the Skills Competition is tomorrow night. That’s where players do events like fastest skater, hardest shot, accuracy, trick shot challenge—stuff meant to show off. ”
His brow furrowed slightly. “Do you…choose what event you do?”
“Mostly,” I said. “They slot some people into fan-voted categories, but I get a say. I’ll probably do accuracy or the passing challenge. The flashier events usually go to forwards who like attention.” His mouth twitched, and I counted that as a win.
“And that’s just the first night,” I went on. “The day after is the actual All-Star tournament. Three-on-three games between the divisions. Fast, no one hits each other, and the pace is ridiculous. It’s more…fun than anything. No pressure about standings or playoffs.”
Phoenix looked down at his hands, worrying the edge of his sleeve between his fingers. “And you’re the only Colorado Dragon who got picked.”
“Yeah,” I said. “None of the others made the roster this year. Max was close. Taranis too. But it’s just me for the dragons. We're still battling a bad reputation.”
His head lifted, eyes warm in a way I wasn’t prepared for. “I’m glad they picked you.”
The moment we passed the security desk, I heard it. “Armstrong!”
Max barreled down the hallway at full speed, grin wide enough to split his face in half. I barely had time to brace before he slammed into me with a hug that rattled my ribs, followed by the rest of the team. I wheezed. “Max—holy—easy—”
“You vanished for eleven hours!” he accused. “Eleven! Do you know how many times Dante threatened to set Coach's car on fire if he couldn't find you?”
A voice chimed in behind him. “That was one time.” Dante—six foot three, brown hair, chaotic energy bundled into a rookie’s body—crossed his arms. “And it would’ve worked.”
Despite myself, despite everything, I laughed. It came out shaky, but it was real. Keegan clapped my shoulder. “Good to have you back, man.” Ash nodded once, the quietest approval he ever gave.
Then Ember stepped forward, eyes bright, practically vibrating out of his skin.
“LAST MAN IN!” he yelled like it was a war cry. “YOU MADE THE ALL-STAR TEAM!”
I stared. “How do you all know already?”
Ember scoffed. “Bro. You’ve been trending online since dawn. Max’s mom posted about you twice.”
Max groaned. “Don’t say it like that. Maman is impossible already.”
Ash smirked. “She likes him more than you.”
Max clutched his heart, his accent adding to the dramatic flair. “I am mortally wounded.”
I blinked between them. “Wait. Trending?”
Keegan patted my back. “You crushed the vote, Cole. You didn’t just sneak in. You dominated.”
My throat tightened. “But—after everything—I didn’t think—”
“We,” a deep voice interrupted, “are proud of you.”
Taranis leaned against the wall, padded gloves hanging from one hand, long dark-silver hair tied back. He rarely smiled, but his eyes softened when he looked at me.
Something in my chest cracked open. I'd kept myself apart from these guys, terrified of what my father might do. “Thank you,” I whispered as more of the team crowded around.
He nodded once, then jerked his chin toward the medical wing. “Nancy’s ready for you.”
Right. Clearance.
My stomach clenched. I took a step—but Taranis gently caught my wrist. “Walk with me.”
I followed him down a quieter hallway, Phoenix watching as we got further away. When we were alone, Taranis stopped and folded his arms. “You’re surprised,” he said simply.
“I…” I exhaled. “I didn’t expect anything like this. After what happened.”
“Look, I don't know what happened. I can guess because I'm older than I look."
He paused to let that sink in. To work out what he was actually trying to tell me, and my breath stuttered at his confirmation.
Taranis leaned in slightly and placed two fingers gently against the center of my chest. Right over the dragon. "Let me know if you need help." I swallowed around the lump in my throat.
“And another thing,” Taranis added quietly. “Get a new agent. Your father tied the one he gave you into a leash.”
I nodded slowly. “Ignatius mentioned that.”
“My agent also handles Max and Keegan,” Taranis said. “He is honorable. If you choose to seek guidance…he won’t fail you, and I believe he is here today.”
My chest loosened. “Thank you.”
Cinder and Nancy were waiting for us. Nancy moved quickly and hugged me tight, then slapped my shoulder with considerable force. "Am I going to have to wrap you in bubble wrap?" She glanced at Phoenix and smiled. He smiled back.
“Cole,” Cinder said warmly. “Good to see you upright.”
“Good to be upright,” I said.
Cinder raised an eyebrow when he saw Phoenix, but I just sent Cinder a calm look. Cinder didn't seem fazed, but Nancy spoke up. "He's authorized."
Cinder hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. Just stay off the equipment.”
I caught Phoenix’s faint grin.
The room smelled like cleaner and cold metal. A tremor ran down my spine before I could stop it. The clinic. The binding. The restraints. Phoenix stepped closer, silently offering his nearness as an anchor.
Cinder began the physical. Reflex tests, balance, eye tracking. Nancy noted my responses as well, watching my breathing more than my movements.
Phoenix hovered—not overbearing, but present. Solid. “Look at the pen,” Cinder said.
I followed it, answering his questions automatically.
Then he pressed the stethoscope to my chest.
The dragon stirred beneath my ribs—warm, restless, pushing gently at the contact. The vibration hummed through the cold metal. Cinder blinked, startled. “Your heart rate fluctuated.”
A sharp spike of fear shot through me. But Nancy stepped forward immediately, her tone gentle. “Cole, deep breath. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”
I obeyed. The dragon settled. Cinder waited, then listened again. “Better. Probably stress. Considering everything…you’re doing extremely well.”
Nancy nodded. “Your heart rate responded instantly. That’s a good sign.”
Cinder moved to motor strength tests next. No tremors. No dizziness.
“Okay,” he said finally, tapping his tablet. “Neurological function is normal. Physical response is strong. Cardiac rhythm stabilized.”
My pulse hammered. Please. Please.
Cinder looked up. “Cole Armstrong…you are medically cleared.”
I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Thank you.”
Before anything else could happen, a staff member poked his head in. “Cole? The league needs you for All-Star media. Now.”
I froze.
All-Star media.
Me.
Phoenix was at my side before I turned. “I’m coming with you.”
He said it with a strange tension in his voice, something tight and fraying at the edges. I made a mental note to check later, to sit him down and make him talk, because something was wrong. But right now? My future was calling.
The hallway leading to the media room felt too bright, too open, too loud.
I’d been in press conferences a hundred times before, but never like this.
Never with the weight of last night still clinging to my bones.
Phoenix hung back with Nancy, and I knew she'd look after him.
One day I hoped to be facing the press holding his hand.
“Cole!” the first reporter called. Then another. Then a third.
“Cole, how does it feel to be the Western Division’s Last Man In?”
“Cole, what does this selection mean to you after the…recent events?”
I lifted my chin. “I’m honored. And grateful. The fans made this happen.”
A dozen flashes went off.
“What about the injury scare?” a woman pressed. “Are you fully recovered?”
“I’m cleared,” I said. “I’m feeling good.”
Another flash. “Cole—what would you say to younger players watching you right now? Especially those dealing with pressure?”
My father’s voice shot through my skull—Pressure makes diamonds, Cole. Stop embarrassing me.
“I’d say that what you’re feeling matters. Take advice from your team. They're your family.”
They kept asking questions, but that answer stuck—echoing back at me in ways I wasn’t prepared for. The rest of the questions went smoothly. We were even joking at the end.
As soon as that was done, I looked for Phoenix and couldn't see him, but then Max practically dragged me to the conference room two floors down. “My agent's here. You’ll love Weston,” he said. “He’s chaotic, but in a helpful way.”
Keegan followed, nodding. “He got me three sponsorships I didn’t even want.”
“That’s not—” Max paused. “Okay, one was my fault.”
Taranis walked at the back of the group with the solemn patience of someone accustomed to babysitting idiots.
Weston was already waiting.
He jumped up the second we entered—tall, sharp suit, hair sticking up like he’d run his hands through it twelve times. He looked like every agent stereotype, except…not slimy.
He beamed at me. “Cole Armstrong. Damn, it’s good to finally meet you. I’m Weston Crane.”
We shook hands. His grip was firm, confident.
Weston gestured me into a chair. “Max tells me you’re looking to leave your previous representation.” I sat, but I still couldn't see Phoenix, and my dragon stirred.
Weston sat across from me. “Here’s what I can offer you, Cole. Transparency. Autonomy. And protection. My clients understand I work for them, not their families.”
My chest tightened. That was a direct reference to my father. Maybe Weston was more clued in than the impression he gave off initially.
“I’ll give you every account statement,” Weston continued. “Every percentage. Every contract term. Every hidden clause. And you’ll choose what happens next.”
Choose.
Yep, definitely clued in.
The word felt dangerous and new.
“And,” Weston added, “I’ll help you build something. Your brand. Your future. Your independence.”
I swallowed. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.” Weston shrugged. “We both make money when you do well. Except that once I’m your agent, anyone who wants to screw with you has to screw with me first. And I’m very annoying.”
Max raised a hand. “Can confirm.”
Keegan nodded. “Painfully annoying.”
Taranis’s lips twitched. “Effective.”
I exhaled slowly. This…felt right. “I want to work with you,” I said quietly.
Weston’s grin was blinding. “Excellent. I’ll send paperwork tonight. And Cole?”
“Yes?”
He leaned in slightly. “You’re going to thrive.”
Something in my chest shifted—like a small flame finding oxygen, and I took a deep breath. For the first time I believed I was.