Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Hunter stepped in front of Asher immediately, arms out, chin up, even at eight years old already trying to protect him.

Asher stepped out from behind him immediately and stood beside him instead, trying to roar at the wolves.

The wolves slowly closed in. And in the middle of that shrinking circle, both boys turned their heads at the exact same time and looked directly at me.

The wolves lunged and I woke up screaming and gasping.

My hand was pressed hard against my heavy chest.

The room was dark. The curtains moved slightly in the breeze.

On the bedside table the pink puck sat exactly where I had left it.

I stared at it in the dark for a long time and slowly curled up under my duvet, scared for the night.

I could not sleep well after the dream. I lay in the dark for a long time staring at the pink puck, listening to the sound of things around me. Pipes knocking. A neighbour's television through the wall. The distant bark of a dog somewhere outside.

This normal sounds made me feel a bit better.

The next, morning, Mom was already gone by the time I got to the kitchen. Her coffee cup was rinsed and upside down on the drying rack.

I made myself toast and ate it standing at the counter looking out the window at the street.

People walked past with their heads down, going somewhere important.

I wondered if any of them had two mates. Probably not. Haha.

School was loud the way it always was. I heard my name before I even got through the front door.

Nobody was calling me, yes. Instead, they were talking about me. I had learned the difference a long time ago. Calling sounds like "Taylor". Talking sounds like whispers that stop the moment you turn around.

I kept my head up and that was a new thing for me.

I was not sure where it came from. Maybe the dream had woken something in me. Maybe Asher's grey eyes in that empty hallway last night had done something to my audacity.

Either way I walked through the front door with my chin up and my bag on my shoulder and I did not look at the floor once.

Elena watched me from across the hall. I looked right back at her. She looked away first, mascara-ed eyes slitting.

I filed that away quietly and kept walking.

Mr McCall found me between second and third period.

He appeared at my elbow like he had grown from there, grey suit, phone in hand, already talking before I had fully registered he was beside me.

"Hunter's first public game since the relationship went live is this Friday." He said. "You need to be there at the front row. And be visible."

My heart jumped but I said.

"Okay, sir."

"You'll need to look the part." He glanced at me sideways. "Something that photographs well."

I stopped walking.

He stopped too, a beat later, and turned to look at me.

"I will be there Mr McCall." I said carefully. "I will sit in the front row and I will cheer for Hunter. That is what the contract says."

He held my gaze for a long second. Then he nodded once and walked away.

I stood in the middle of the hallway and breathed slowly and then I kept going, chin up.

Well, I guess my chin had remained UP throughout today. And I was not planning on putting it down.

Hunter found me at lunch.

I was sitting alone at the far end of the courtyard the way I always did, my back against the wall, my food in my lap, watching pigeons argue over a piece of bread near the fountain.

He sat down beside me without asking. I looked at him from under my lashes.

Why had he come to me even when he was injured? Does that mean he has finally loved me?

He was not in his uniform. Just dark jeans and a grey hoodie with the Silver Moon Academy crest on the chest. His knee was wrapped under his jeans. I could see the slight stiffness in the way he lowered himself to the ground.

"How is it?" I asked, nodding toward his knee.

"Fine." He said.

He was not fine. Anyone could see that. But I had learned already that Hunter Nightclaw did not do vulnerable things. So I let it go.

He reached over and stole a chip from the small packet beside my knee without asking.

I stared at his hand.

He chewed and looked out at the courtyard like he had not just taken food from the girl he had rejected two days ago on an ice rink.

"McCall spoke to you." He said. It was not a question.

"Yes." I confirmed.

"Friday's game is important." He turned to look at me. "There will be cameras. Real ones. Not just phones."

"I know."

"You have to look like you want to be there. You have to look cute."

I turned to face him fully. "Hunter. I used to watch you practice from the empty seats every day for two years without you ever knowing I was there." I held his gaze. "I know how to watch you play hockey."

A very fast-disappearing emotion crossed his face. Then, he quickly frowned, looked away and stole another chip.

"Wear something warm." He said quietly. "The rink gets cold."

It was such a small advice but my heart did that stuttering thing it always did around him and I had to look away at the pigeons again before he noticed.

"Okay." I said.

We sat in silence for a while.

It was not a comfortable silence exactly. But it was not an awful one either.

I enjoyed the looks we got amd the greetings passers-by gave.

Friday came faster than I was ready for. The rink was packed.

I had been to games before, always hidden in the back where nobody could see me but tonight I walked through the main entrance with McCall at my side and he guided me to the front row like I belonged there.

I sat down.

The cold hit me immediately.

I had worn my warmest cream coloured sweater and pulled my wavy, blonde hair down loose the way it fell naturally. I had done my makeup carefully in my bathroom mirror that morning, just enough to feel like myself, nothing more.

But, oh, to be honest, I looked much more prettier. At least, a bit.

I pressed my hands together in my lap and looked out at the ice.

It was empty still. Both teams were in their locker rooms. The crowd hummed around me, bright and electric with anticipation. Someone behind me was already chanting Hunter's name.

I scanned the seats on the opposite side.

Asher's school had come to watch too. I found him almost immediately. He was sitting with his team in their dark blue jackets, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, talking to the boy beside him.

He had not seen me yet. I watched him for exactly three seconds. Then I looked back at the ice.

The doors opened and Silver Moon's team poured out. The crowd erupted.

Hunter came last. He always came last though. I knew that from two years of watching from the empty seats. He let his team go first and then he stepped onto the ice alone, and the noise in the building doubled because that was what Hunter did to a room. He made everything louder just by being in it.

He skated a slow circle, helmet under his arm, green eyes moving across the crowd.

They found me. He did not smile. He just looked at me for one long steady second. Then he put his helmet on and joined his team.

My heart was doing that thing again. I pressed my hands harder together in my lap.

From across the rink I felt the quieter pull.

I did not look in Asher's direction but I already knew he was looking at me.

The game was fast and loud and brutal the way hockey always was.

Hunter played like the injury had never happened like his knee was perfectly fine. He moved across the ice with arrogance that only worked because the talent backed it up.

He scored in the second period and the crowd lost their minds. I was so happy that I screamed and stomped my feet, clapping, lost to the world.

He skated past the front row and pointed directly at me.