Chapter 20 #2
Now the same bar feels too small for the life burning in my chest. I don’t hide.
I don’t shrink. I throw my head back when Jax drags me into a toast, my throat burning from cheap whiskey, my laugh loud enough to cut through the music.
I climb onto a chair when the whole team shouts for a speech, and for once, my voice doesn’t tremble.
“We earned this!” I shout, hoarse and grinning. “Every single one of us. Wolves forever!”
The room erupts, glasses clinking, fists slamming tables.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Phoenix stays steady.
He’s not the loudest, not the drunkest. He doesn’t need to be.
He leans against the wall, arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as he watches us tear the place apart.
His calm isn’t cold, not like it used to be.
It’s warm, centered, magnetic. A still point in the storm.
I catch him watching me, eyes gleaming with pride that steals the breath right from my lungs.
I think about the boy I used to be—the one who played it safe, who never shouted, who never let himself be reckless.
He wouldn’t recognize the man I am tonight.
The wildness in me isn’t reckless like I once feared—it’s alive, burning, a pulse I didn’t know I carried until Phoenix pulled it to the surface.
I’m not calm, not steady. I’m fire and motion, shouting until my throat aches, hugging teammates until my ribs crack, kissing the trophy like it is salvation. I used to see that as a weakness.
Now, it’s my strength.
And Phoenix is the opposite. He’s no longer fire barely contained, lashing out, burning himself down in the process.
He’s the anchor. The calm that lets me be wild without fear of drifting too far.
When our eyes meet across the room, it feels like something clicks into place—wild and calm, storm and shore. Perfect balance.
I catch him staring, and something inside me stirs—hot, magnetic, inevitable. I don’t look away. He pushes off the wall and walks straight toward me.
“You’re loud tonight,” he murmurs when he reaches me, sliding an arm around my waist.
I lean into him without thinking. “I’m alive tonight.”
His lips brush my temple, barely there. My throat closes tight with emotion.
For a while we stand like that, letting the night swirl around us. But when the music slows, when the rookies start passing out at tables and Jax drunkenly declares himself king of Frosthaven, Phoenix leans down to my ear.
“Come with me,” he says.
There’s no hesitation. I follow him out the back door, into the cold. The night air hits sharp, the kind that wakes you up even when you don’t want it to. Phoenix leads me around the side, past the dumpsters, to a narrow staircase that clings to the brick wall.
“Where are we going?” I whisper.
“You’ll see.”
We climb. The metal rattles under our boots, and when we reach the top, the city opens around us.
Frosthaven stretches wide, lights glittering against the dark.
The streets below are alive with fans still celebrating, their cheers faint echoes that float up to us.
Up here, though, it’s quiet. Just the hum of neon from the bar sign, the wind tugging at my jacket, and Phoenix beside me.
He stops near the edge, resting his hands on the low wall. For a moment he just breathes, looking out at the city. Then he glances at me.
“You know,” he says softly, “I’ve been waiting for this moment. To see you like this.”
“Like what?”
He studies me, eyes dark and full. “Like you could take on the world. You were always strong, Lee. But you hid it. You played small. And now look at you.” He shakes his head, smiling like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I’m proud of you.”
The words slam into me harder than any hit I’ve taken on the ice. Proud. Not of my goals or the win. Proud of me. My throat burns, and I have to look away before I break.
“Phoenix—” My voice cracks. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything,” he whispers. His hand slides to my cheek, tilting my face toward his. “Just kiss me.”
So I do.
The kiss is slow, deep, nothing like the wild, hungry ones we’ve shared in locker rooms and dark corners.
This one is steady, deliberate. His lips are warm, his breath tastes like whiskey and mint, and the whole world shrinks to just us.
I fist his jacket, holding him close, terrified of letting go.
When we part, his forehead rests against mine. His chest rises and falls in time with mine.
“I have something for you,” he says.
“What?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box. My stomach flips. He doesn’t drop to one knee—Phoenix isn’t the type—but he presses the box into my hand.
“Open it.”
“Phoenix, this better not be—”
Phoenix laughs. “Just open it, sweetheart.”
My fingers shake as I do. Inside, resting on velvet, is a single key.
I blink. “What is this?”
“It’s the key to our new house,” he says simply.
His voice is steady, but his eyes give him away—they’re nervous, hopeful, blazing.
“I bought it last week. It’s in the same neighborhood as where we live now.
It’s nothing crazy, but it’ll fit both of us and whoever else comes into our lives.
Been waiting for the right time to give this to you. ”
My heart slams against my ribs. “Our… house?”
“Yeah.” His hand slides to the back of my neck.
“I don’t want you wasting money on an apartment you never use.
I don’t want you anywhere but with me. Move in, Leander.
Not just your stuff—you. Let’s build something.
A place that’s ours. Porch swing. Dog. Hell, a whole future, if you’ll have it. If you’ll have me.”
Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them. The city blurs around us.
“I love you,” I whisper, voice breaking. “God, Phoenix, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he says, fierce and certain. “Never leave my side.”
The key digs into my palm as I clutch it tight. Forever. That’s what he’s giving me. Not just a house. Not just a place to sleep. A life. A home.
“Yes,” I choke out, tears slipping down my cheeks. “Yes, I’ll move in. Yes, I’ll love you forever. Yes to everything.”
He pulls me in, kissing me again, and this time the kiss is desperate—like he’s anchoring himself to me, like he’s afraid of what will happen if he lets go. I kiss him back with everything I have, my tears mixing with his breath, my wildness colliding with his calm.
The city keeps cheering below us, but up here, it’s just us. Our beginning.
Our forever.