Page 444 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

The noise hits first. It always does, a wall of pure excited sound thundering out over the ice, and I brace myself as my eyes adjust to the lights. I hope to fuck I'm not on the JumboTron, but I risk a glance up anyway in hopes of getting a glimpse of Ivy as I skate by the designated family section.

She's pressed against the glass, jumping.

Her hair is fully auburn today for the first time.

She had the brown dye stripped and restored her hair to its true shade yesterday, and she's kept it under a knit hat the whole time, saying it's a surprise.

She's so beautiful.

The most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

For a moment, all that exists is Ivy, Ivy and her shining auburn hair and the silver marks shimmering where they poke out under the collar of her sweater.

And I almost fucking wreck into one of our rookies.

When I've finished repeatedly apologizing with relentless circles of my fist on my chest, which the rookie doesn't seem to understand at all, or he's too busy staring in horror at my face, I turn on the ice to look back up at her and wave.

Then make a heart with my gloves at her.

She makes it right back.

The crowd goes crazy for some reason.

And that's when I see what they're wearing.

Black gaiters pulled up over noses and mouths, and printed across every single one, sharp white teeth.

Jagged, grinning teeth.

A kid in the front row presses both hands against the glass, gaiter up, shark teeth grinning at me from his face. He points at me, then at his own teeth, then gives me two thumbs up.

I lift my hand and point back.

He loses his entire mind.

I signed up to be stared at in horror for the rest of my life. That's how most people react, when I'm outside and not on the ice. Sometimes I have a bad day. A really fucking bad day where I want to lock myself up forever again.

But this…

Nobody warned me about this.

Whiskey sidles up to Thane on my other side, jerking his chin toward the stands. "Bro. Be honest with me. Is Wraith why you had that shark phase when you were a kid?"

Thane shoves him. "The fuck, Whiskey? No. How did you even know about that?"

"Ivy."

"Oh, for fuck's sake…"

Warmups are a blur of laps and stretching and Whiskey trying to flip pucks at Plague from across the ice. When it ends and we file off, I take one more look at Ivy before the tunnel, skating by close on purpose.

She presses her hand flat against the glass.

I glide closer, pulling my glove off to press my palm against hers on my way past, and her whole face lights up.

Yeah.

Okay.