Chapter 18
Anya
“It’s beginning to look a lot like—”
“PUCK THIS!” I interrupt my team happily singing Christmas jingles, as we clean up from practice. Their loud voices echoing against the locker room and tiled walls.
They know what little love I have for the holiday, which seems to make them even more insistent to help me love it. It’s not that I never wanted to love Christmas, but it’s really hard when it’s never been the magical experience for you that it has been for everyone else.
Every day I come in, one of them has decorated my locker and added a new Christmas card.
I know they mean well, and it’s not done in an attempt to piss me off, but it’s just not the same.
These girls are my teammates, barely friends.
They don’t love me. Granted, I have someone who loves me now, but I don’t know what that will mean for Christmas.
Hell, I don’t even know if he likes Christmas.
I shoot off a text to Carrie and toss my phone in my locker. Since meeting her, other than Kodi, Carrie has become my best friend. We text daily about anything and everything.
“Oh, come on, Cap. Try singing along. The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!” Icelynn wails with her arm wrapped around my shoulder.
When she pulls away, the movement pulls my shirt to the side and she gasps at me. Her eyes dart between my eyes and my mark. Shit. I don’t say anything. I wait for her to say something, but now everyone’s watching us.
“You’re his mate?” she asks, and everyone perks up even further.
I’m floored by the revelation that she has any idea what that means.
The room breaks into absolute chaos. Girls are yelling and jumping and tossing “I told you so" around at each other when Coach comes in and finds me standing there with absolutely no idea what’s going on.
“Y’all can’t do anything gently can you?” She shakes her head at them and pulls a stupefied me into her office. “Here, sit. Let me grab a water.”
She walks with purpose to her small fridge, grabbing me a water, screwing off the cap, and handing it to me. “Drink.”
Not in the mood to argue with her, I drink half the bottle and set it on her desk. “What’s going on?”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna beat around the bush here, Red. So, Kodi is your mate?” She waits for an answer with serious eyes on mine.
Without directly answering her question, in case this is some kind of trap, I pull my shirt away from my shoulder where you can see my snowflake marks.
I’m not prepared for the sappy smile Coach gets on her face, one I’ve never seen.
“I’m happy for you both darling. He’s a polar bear ain’t he?” She tosses it out there so casually, catching me off guard that my jaw drops and words evade me. I nod.
“Wonderful. Now I can tell you that you’re the only human on the team. It’s been hard keeping this from you for all these years, but you were so good the organization let us take a chance on you.”
She must notice the confusion marring my features and goes back in to explain.
“The very large majority of all college and professional athletes aren’t human. They’re shifters. All animals you can imagine. Werewolves dominate hockey. Our team is all wolves other than Ice. She’s an Arctic fox.”
My mind is reeling with this information, but it feels like finding missing pieces to a puzzle you thought you’d given up on understanding, all clicking into place. One specific piece hitting me in the gut with the revelation.
“Is that why I wasn’t selected in the draft?” I ask with as much professionalism and strength as I can.
Coach’s face brightens further. “Well, it was. We can file the appropriate paperwork now and see if you’ve got a chance.”
I still have a chance?
“But I’m still not a shifter.”
She gives me one of her looks that says “no shit, genius” and moves around her desk, batting away the garland the girls hung all over her office, to open her laptop.
“No, you’re not. But being mated to one will put you back on the list of optional players.
To be drafted into the professional sports leagues you must be a shifter, mated to one, or aware of shifters in another close way. ”
It's impossible to slow the thoughts flying through my mind, but one sticks out the largest. “Can I ask you something, Coach?”
Not looking up from her laptop as she types, she says, “I’m all ears.”
“Kodi called me his fated mate.” Coach looks up and nods while I try to gather my thoughts to make sense of what I’m trying to ask. “Is your Goddess, this fate, what brought me here? Brought Kodi here? Like . . . what I’m trying to say is . . . is this all just fate or—”
Coach raises her hand, stopping my rambling thoughts.
“Everything is fate. Every moment in everyone’s lives lead them to where they’re meant to be.
It’s not the reason for why anything does or doesn’t happen to us.
You’re damn good at hockey, with or without Kodi.
Your parents didn’t suck because of Kodi and your fate.
All the moments in your life just led to each other. ”
Nodding and trying to take it all in, a new hope blooms within me at knowing maybe my hockey career isn’t over after all.
Once I’m home and on my comfy couch where I can appropriately scold my…
He is so much more than my boyfriend, but saying mate is still kind of weird. I need to work on that.
I mean he’s not wrong.
I know I shouldn’t, but I laugh. The only thing about Kodi that intimidates me is how much I care about him.
Holy shit.
Alright . . . now to ask him the big question.
Between each of our games, practices, and my classes, it’s been impossible for us to spend any quality time together and I still haven’t made it to one of his games. Every chance we get is spent together, even if he just drives me to practice or I bring him lunch.
It sucks to feel like you physically need to be with someone at all times but have to spend so much time apart.
He’s insinuated a few times that I could just live with him, but I don’t want him to ask me like that.
I want him to be sure he wants me there and is actually asking me to be with him at all times.
Instead of texting me back, he video calls me.
“Oh, hey, stranger.” I smile into the phone.
His eyes are wide and hopeful. “You do remember that I play football, right?”
Snorting a small laugh, “I do. I think we’re way past that, don’t you?”
“I’d hoped so, but I didn’t want to go off assuming things. You know what happens when you assume.”
He’s silly and adorable and I love him.
“So, does that mean you can get us some tickets?” I’m surprised at how excited I am to go watch him play. I’ve found myself growing to enjoy football since I met Kodi, and I’ve been studying the rules so I understand.
“Are you freaking kidding me? I’d buy out the whole stadium if you asked me to. Granted I don’t make that kind of money yet, but give me a bit babe, and we’ll be rich and living easy for hundreds of years.”
I drop my phone and scramble to pick it back up. “What did you just say?”
A number of emotions take turns washing over his face and through our bond. Confusion, realization, embarrassment. “Werewolves are immortal, and other shifters can live to be like a thousand years old.” He offers sheepishly.
“But I’m not a shifter,” is all I can think to say.
He shakes his head. “No, but with my bond, it also links our lifespans, and yours will match mine.”
For a long time, I sit and process everything I've just learned before I give up trying to wrap my head around it. With a nervous laugh I say, “And to think, I learned all of this because one of my teammates saw my mark today.”