BEYOND THE ICE

Adrian Knox would have much rather been carving up the Main Ice Rink with the rest of the pack than babysitting Lyon Navarro, but he followed Rafael’s directive regardless. While the league and the media viewed Adrian as the Stormbreakers’ resident provocateur and king of chaos, he wasn't foolish enough to derail the team’s focus for the sake of a prank gone sideways.

He reached for his discarded street clothes, pulling them on with deliberate, slow motions, ensuring his muscles remained flexed and taut. He knew Lyon was still watching. When Adrian finally turned back, he caught the way Lyon’s amber-flecked eyes lingered on his frame, shimmering with a mix of professional coldness and undeniable heat. Lyon was clearly trying to play it cool, leaning against the locker room wall with his arms crossed and a defiant, sharp expression that was as frustrating as it was magnetic.

It took every ounce of Adrian’s restraint not to do something reckless right then. It would have been effortless to show the strategist exactly what he thought of that polished, superior attitude. He imagined pinning Lyon against the cold tile of the wall, ensuring he was the first of the six to extract a debt. He wanted to hear that composed voice break, to hear Lyon gasp his name and finally admit that he never should have hunted the pack in his columns for all those years.

Adrian wasn't as explosive as Mateo or as erratic as Logan, but he had a visceral loathing for anyone who tried to exert authority over him. That defiant streak had earned him countless penalties from referees and endless lectures from the league office. Now, he could tell that same streak was going to put him on a collision course with the pack’s elegant new problem.

As the rest of the Stormbreakers finished suiting up and headed for the ice, sticks in hand and blades clicking against the floor, Adrian turned and caught Lyon by the arm. Compared to the massive enforcers he usually grappled with on the rink, Lyon felt dangerously lean, almost fragile, as Adrian steered him out of the locker room and down the narrow concrete corridor toward the concourse.

"Here’s your damn device," Adrian snapped, thrusting the phone toward him.

Snatching it from Lyon’s bag had been a calculated opening move—a simple message that the pack wasn't just going to speak their minds; they were going to take whatever they wanted. There were no boundaries they wouldn't trample, no personal space they wouldn't invade to make Lyon’s life in San Diego as grueling as possible. The sooner the man realized he was in a cage with wolves, the faster he’d run back to his penthouse.

"Stealing my phone? What is this, high school?" Lyon hissed, snatching the phone back with a sharp jerk.

The movement brought him inches from Adrian’s chest. Lyon stood his ground, radiating a fierce energy. After the way he had stepped up to Rafael, Adrian knew the man was weaponizing his own presence to try to throw the Alphas off-balance.

Adrian leaned in, closing the gap until they were nearly chest-to-chest. He wanted Lyon to feel the sheer physical weight of a predator, letting him know that he was dealing with someone every bit as defiant and unshakable as he pretended to be.