Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Final buzzer – The signal that the game has officially ended.
Phoenix
Ignatius didn’t speak to me on the hotel elevator.
He didn’t need to; his silence weighed more than any words could. He stood beside me like a marble statue in an immaculate coat, broad and immovable, radiating what I imagined was a dragon’s patience and a dragon’s impatience at the same time.
Cole had called him. That was all Ignatius said before telling me to get my shoes on.
Cole called.
Cole. Even thinking his name felt like pressing on a bruise. I stood in the elevator, numb and swaying, while the floor numbers glowed upward. Ignatius’s presence was solid and grounding, but nothing could stop the frantic thud of my heartbeat.
I had no idea what waited behind Cole’s hotel room door. Anger. Hatred.
A final goodbye.
All I knew was that he wanted to see me. When the elevator chimed and the doors slid open, my breath hitched. Ignatius didn’t give me time to hesitate. He placed a hand on my back, a surprisingly gentle pressure. “Come,” he said softly.
We walked down the carpeted hallway, the muted hum of conversations and televisions seeping through closed doors. My vision blurred more than once; I blinked rapidly, not wanting to fall apart before we even arrived.
We stopped in front of room 823. The number glowed gold. If I touched it, I was sure it would burn me. Ignatius knocked once, a deep, commanding sound. The door opened almost immediately.
Cole stood there.
His All-Star hoodie hung loose around his shoulders, his hair damp from a shower, cheeks flushed from lingering heat. But his eyes—
God.
They were red.
And exhausted.
And hurting.
And searching my face like he wasn’t sure I was real.
Something inside me fractured so sharply I thought I might collapse. I might have sobbed, but all of a sudden, I was in his arms.
“Phoenix,” he whispered. "I'm so sorry, baby."
I heard the door click shut behind me, but I didn't care. I was frantic. Nothing like the first time. No careful, lingering touches or nervous laughter, just heat and hunger and the kind of desperation you only get when you think you might lose someone and then you find them again.
I didn’t even try to pretend I had self-control. My fingers shook as I yanked his hoodie off. He was already tugging my shirt up, muttering, “Come here, please, just—I need, I need,” and the way his hands clenched at my hips like he’d never let go again made my chest ache.
I managed to kiss him, mouths colliding, teeth almost clacking, and I didn’t care. He tasted like mint and salt and something wild. He grabbed fistfuls of my shirt, and I popped two buttons getting it over my head, but neither of us even blinked.
He pushed me toward the bed, and I nearly tripped over my own feet, but he caught me, strong arms locking around me like he could anchor himself with my spine.
I shoved his sweats off and he toed out of them, baring both of us in seconds.
I barely remembered stepping out of my own jeans, just remembered heat, bare skin, my cock hard and leaking against his thigh as he yanked me down onto the mattress.
I thought I’d be nervous. Or slow. But I wasn’t. I was trembling, but it wasn’t fear—it was relief. Relief so sharp I nearly sobbed when his mouth found mine again, hot and desperate, like if he stopped for even a second he’d vanish.
He cupped my jaw, gentle only for a heartbeat, then bit my lip and my cock jerked. He kissed down my throat, open-mouthed, sucking hard enough to leave marks. I wanted the marks. I wanted every bruise, every scrape, every ache to be proof that I still belonged to him.
“Cole,” I whispered. I didn’t even know what I was asking for. More. Everything. Never stop.
His hands shook as he fumbled for the lube, nearly dropping it, but I caught his wrist and kissed his palm before I pushed it back into his hand. “Please,” I told him, “now. I want you.”
He nodded like his life depended on it. I rolled on my back, pulled my knees up, shameless, and he groaned, messy and unguarded.
His fingers slicked me fast, no patience left, but I didn’t want patience, I just wanted him to fill me.
I didn’t care if it hurt—I wanted it to hurt a little, so I’d remember every second.
Once, twice, and then he was lining up, condom on before I’d even blinked. He braced over me, eyes locked on mine, searching like he needed to be sure I was really here.
“Are you okay? Are you sure?” His voice shook on the last word.
I laughed, breathless, and dragged him down for a kiss. “I’m never more sure. Please, Cole, please…” I just took it, every inch, every goddamn second. There was nothing slow or careful about it—not now, not after everything. I wanted him to remember me tomorrow. No, I needed him to.
And he fucking delivered. He was shaking above me, braced on his arms, and then I locked my legs around his waist and yanked him in as deep as I could physically take. Hurt, in the best possible way. Stretched and burning and I didn't want to stop, not once.
I hissed and grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him closer. He snapped his hips, not gentle at all, and I rocked with it, sweat slicking our skin together. "Harder," I begged—not a breath between the words—and he slammed into me, and I almost blacked out from how much I wanted it.
His voice wrecked me. "I missed you so much," he said, barely more than a rasp, breathed right against my ear, and I nearly lost it right there. I could feel him everywhere. There wasn't a single inch of me he didn't own.
I wanted him to break.
He did.
The sounds he made, I could've fallen apart just hearing them. Little desperate gasps, and then my name, torn out of him like a confession. "Phoenix," he choked, "oh fuck, don't let go, don't leave me, please," and I felt my heart shatter and weld itself whole at the same time.
It was a miracle I was still breathing when he finally let go and we came together, bodies seizing up, muscles hard as stone. The heat inside him was unreal, like lying too close to a fire, but I didn't care—I never wanted to move. Not if it meant more of this.
He collapsed over me, arms trembling, holding me like I'd vanish if he blinked.
I held on just as tight. He hadn't even caught his breath before I was kissing him, his mouth, his jaw, anywhere I could reach.
He whimpered and shuddered, and I realized he was crying a little, not huge, but enough I could taste it on his skin.
I kissed it away.
"It's okay," I said. "I'm here. I'm not fucking going anywhere."
He buried his face in my neck and just shook for a while. I stroked his back, slow and steady, until the world started to make sense again.
Eventually he rolled off, to get rid of the condom, but not far. He tucked me into his side, clinging like he was freezing and only I could keep him alive. I didn't care that we were covered in sweat and come and bruises. I wanted every bit.
I waited until his breathing steadied, then brought his hand up to my mouth and kissed the inside of his wrist. "You're safe," I told him, over and over, even though the dragon was still humming under his skin, even though we both knew this wasn't over.
He didn't talk. Not for a long time. He just held me and let me hold him.
“I’m sorry.” My voice trembled, small and cracked. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I thought I was doing the right thing, and I was wrong about everything.”
Cole swallowed hard, chest rising unevenly. “You were scared.”
“That doesn’t excuse—”
“It absolutely does.”
I stared at him, stunned by the gentleness in his voice.
“I treated you like you were trying to ruin me,” Cole continued, voice tightening. “Like you were my father. Like you knew exactly what you were doing and wanted to hurt me.”
I flinched.
“You didn’t hurt me because you’re cruel. You hurt me because you’re terrified. Because life has taken things from you over and over, and you believed this stranger could take something else if you didn’t obey.”
Tears burned down my cheeks. “I should’ve told you.”
His gaze dropped away from my face for a moment. “Phoenix…when I told you to leave, I was angry. But underneath it, I was scared. I’ve been used before. Controlled before. And I reacted like the frightened boy I used to be, not the man I want to be now.”
I wiped my eyes with the back of my shaking hand. “I never wanted to be someone you regretted letting into your life.”
“You never have been,” Cole whispered. “Not for a single moment.” He looked back up.
My breath stuttered.
He pulled me closer. I didn’t move this time.
“Look at me,” Cole said softly. I did. His eyes weren’t just almost glowing—they were full.
Overflowing. “I missed you,” he whispered.
“Every second today. Every minute on the ice. My dragon kept pushing against my ribs like it was trying to find you.” He let out a shaky breath.
“And all I could think was how badly I wanted you there.”
A sob escaped me before I could swallow it. “I don’t deserve that,” I managed.
“You do,” Cole said. “You deserve so much more than what life has given you.”
My vision blurred. “Cole…”
He reached out again—slow, careful, asking permission with every inch of movement. This time, when his fingertips brushed mine, I didn’t pull away.
Cole exhaled shakily and gently threaded his fingers through mine. “I treated you like you had the same safety nets I did. The same choices. But you didn’t.” His voice wavered. “And instead of realizing that, I punished you for surviving.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks in hot, silent streams as I shook my head. “I was so scared to lose you.”
“You never lost me,” he whispered, voice thick. “You just scared me. And I scared you. And we both need to learn how to stop running when it hurts.”
He stepped close enough that our foreheads nearly touched. “Phoenix,” he breathed. “I love you.”