Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Final Shift - The last time a player takes the ice in that game.
Phoenix
One week later
The farther we drove up Ignatius’s mountain road, the quieter everything became. Snow muffled the edges of the world, softening the trees and the air itself, until it felt like we were leaving reality behind.
Keegan drove, humming along to whatever classical piece Ignatius insisted on playing. Cole sat beside me in the backseat, knee pressed lightly against mine, the warmth of him steadying me more than the heated leather seats ever could.
Ignatius broke the comfortable silence first.
“We received news this morning,” he said, eyes on the winding road. “About Wells.”
Cole stiffened beside me, and I instinctively reached for his hand under the blanket we’d spread across our laps.
Ignatius continued, voice smooth and almost disturbingly calm. “Your father has fled the country.”
I blinked. “He what?”
Keegan huffed. “England. It appears he believed he would be safe there.”
Ignatius’s mouth twitched—not a smile, exactly, but something close. “Unfortunately for him, he is incorrect. His business partners have abandoned him, and several of them are cooperating with investigators. He will face prosecution.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Fraud,” Ignatius said mildly. “Several counts. International. And potentially tax evasion. A rather impressive assortment.”
Keegan snorted. “Guy thought he could outrun a federal audit. Amateur.”
Cole let out a slow breath and leaned back into the seat. I felt the tension drain out of him like water finally finding its way downhill. His fingers tightened around mine.
“He’s really gone?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” Ignatius said. “And he will not return. Not with what’s waiting for him.”
Cole stared out the window for a long moment, the reflection of snow and pines sliding over his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost stunned.
“Then…it’s over.”
I squeezed his hand. “You’re safe.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “I don’t even know what that feels like.”
Ignatius’s voice gentled slightly. “You will. You already are.” He coughed.
"We have been unable to find the blackmailer…
yet, but the number he used has been disconnected.
I am assured he has nothing to do with Wells or the council, so my investigators are looking into corporate sponsors, but neither of you need to worry as he has no leverage even though I am confident he hasn't yet learned his lesson. It will be something he is taught."
I smiled in relief. it was all working out. Ricky had left yesterday and Cole had hired a moving van. We would visit as soon as the season ended.
Keegan twisted in his seat so he could see us, grinning. “And now you get to do good things instead of stressing about that jackass. Tell him, Cole.”
Cole nudged the back of his seat. “You’re not supposed to announce my plans like that.”
“Phoenix deserves to know,” Keegan insisted. Then, to me, “Look at your man being noble.”
Cole groaned. “Keegan.”
But his fingers laced with mine again.
“I’ve been talking with Ignatius,” Cole said softly. “About…starting something. A foundation.”
My chest tightened, hope blooming sharp and bright. “For what?”
“For people who never had a safety net. Who grew up in shelters or on the streets. I want to fund housing, medical access, job training. Things that actually change outcomes.”
Emotion crashed over me so fast I had to blink hard.
“Cole,” I whispered, “that’s…huge.”
“It’s what a lot of people deserve. And I can finally do something about it now that he’s gone.”
Ignatius cleared his throat delicately. “If I may, the paperwork is being finalized next week. Cole has chosen the name.”
Keegan beamed like this was his favorite part. “Tell him.”
Cole looked suddenly shy, the same man who’d dazzled an entire arena just over a week ago, trying to duck his head into his hoodie. “It’s called the Phoenix Foundation,” he admitted, voice barely audible.
My breath caught hard. Not because it was my name. But because of what it meant.
New beginnings. Second chances. Rising from ashes.
I stared at him, overwhelmed. “You can’t—Cole, that’s—”
“It’s yours,” he said. “Because you survived. Because you helped me survive. Because everything I want to build is because of you.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak.
Keegan elbowed me gently. “Yeah, we all cried the first time he told us too.”
“I didn’t cry,” Ignatius corrected.
“You sniffled,” Keegan said dryly.
Cole leaned into me just slightly, his shoulder brushing mine with deliberate intent. “Hey,” he murmured, “you okay?”
I nodded, but the tears threatening at the corners of my eyes said otherwise.
He brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “Good. Because we’re almost there.”
I looked ahead.
The mountain rose in front of us, steep and ancient and breathtaking, the sky bright and clear above it.
Cole squeezed my hand again. “Ready to fly?” he whispered.
We climbed out of the car and stared in wonder. Ignatius stood a few paces ahead, coat snapping in the wind, Keegan at his side. They looked at home here in a way I couldn’t quite understand. As if the mountain recognized them.
“This is far enough,” Ignatius said. “The ridge is stable, and there’s no wind shear today.”
Cole’s fingers tightened around mine. His uncertainty was visceral. The kind you felt when you were about to become something more than you’d ever allowed yourself to imagine.
I stepped closer, brushing my shoulder against his. “You don’t have to be afraid.” I was scared enough for both of us.
Cole let out a shaky breath, laughing under it because I wasn't ever going to be able to hide a damn thing from my man. “I’m about to turn into a dragon for the first time. I think fear is a given.” He turned, eyes shadowed with worry. “What if I lose control? What if I—”
“You won’t,” I said softly.
His throat bobbed. “Phoenix…”
“I love you,” I told him, simple and true. “Every version of you. Human. Dragon. Everything in between.” Something inside him steadied at that. I saw it happen—his posture easing, the coil of tension unwinding from his shoulders, the light shifting in his eyes.
Ignatius stepped closer, not intruding, but anchoring. “You are ready,” he said gently. “You have been ready for years. The only thing that was missing was freedom. And permission.” He gestured to Keegan. "Both of us are here in case you need us. We can both shift in an instant."
Cole exhaled slowly, a breath that trembled with the weight of a lifetime.
He looked at me once more.
I nodded.
Go.
He let go of my hand.
And the world held its breath.
It didn’t happen violently. It happened like breath becoming fire.
A pulse of heat moved through the air—soft at first, then bright enough that the snow at Cole’s feet hissed.
His body blurred around the edges, outlines bending like light through water.
Clothes just disappeared. Then his shoulders rolled back, spine arching, and something ancient and luminous unfurled inside him.
Scales shimmered into existence like dawn breaking across metal—silver at the edges, deep red along the ridges, both colors layered and alive. Wings unfurled with a sound like the wind catching the trees. His tail curved along the rock, long and elegant.
And when his head lifted—
I lost my breath at how beautiful he was.
Eyes still Cole’s—still familiar, still warm, but glowing almost scarlet. “Holy—” I whispered, hand flying to my mouth. “Cole?”
The dragon lowered his head, touching his snout lightly to my chest, a careful, deliberate gesture, more tender than any kiss. Warmth washed through me. Home. That was what it felt like.
Ignatius stepped back, giving him room. “Fly,” he said with quiet pride. “Your mate will be here when you return.”
Cole spread his wings.
And leapt.
He rose in a smooth arc, slicing through the open sky, scattering snow in a sparkling spray. Sunlight struck his red-silver scales, sending shards of brilliance dancing across the clouds.
My heartbeat echoed in my ears, too full for my chest. He roared once—a sound that vibrated the mountain beneath my feet—then dove low over the ridge before spiraling upward again, testing his wings the way a newborn bird might do.
He was magnificent.
Ignatius watched with a small smile. “He is everything he was meant to become.”
“He really is,” I whispered.
Cole circled once more, a broad red-and-silver streak across the morning sky, then descended toward me. His wings flared wide as he landed, sending a gust of warm air and snow swirling around my legs. His talons dug into the stone, anchoring him with absolute precision.
He lowered his massive head toward me, exhaling a slow, steaming breath.
I stepped forward on trembling legs.
“Hey,” I whispered, touching the smooth, warm scales along his snout.
The world shifted.
Warmth burst through my palm, gentle, bright, familiar. A pulse. A recognition. And then a voice bloomed inside me.
Phoenix.
My breath hitched.
“Cole?”
The dragon’s eyes closed briefly, relief rolling from him in a wave I felt as much as heard.
I can speak to you…through the bond. Only when you touch me. You hear me?
“I do,” I whispered. “God, Cole, I do.”
Emotion surged so strongly through the connection it made my knees weak, and love, protectiveness, wonder, all braided together until I felt wrapped in him completely.
He nudged my chest gently, urging me closer.
Ride with me.
“I… Can I?” My voice wavered.
You are my mate, he said, the words resonating warm and sure inside my mind. There is nowhere safer for you than with me.
I slid one hand along his jaw, the scales warming beneath my fingers, and climbed onto his back. The bond hummed instantly—soft, steady, undeniable.
As soon as I settled, Cole rose.
Not a leap this time. A lift. Smooth. Intentional. As if he wanted me to feel every moment.
His wings swept outward, powerful and breathtaking, and we soared.
The world stretched wide below us—ridges and valleys carved in white and gold. The wind tore at my clothes, but I didn’t feel the cold, not with Cole’s body burning warm beneath me, the bond vibrating softly through skin and bone.
Are you afraid? he asked.
“No.”
Are you sure?
I leaned forward, pressing my palm to the warm scales at his neck. The bond flared bright and sure.
“I’m with you,” I said. “I could never be afraid with you.”
Cole’s joy pulsed through me, pure and overwhelming. He banked left, carrying us in a sweeping arc over the mountain, our shadows merging briefly on the snow below.
We flew until my cheeks were wind-burned and my heart was full to bursting.
We flew until the sun dipped low enough to paint his wings in molten gold.
We flew until neither had anything left inside but the certainty of us.