Skaters have frozen mid-glide. People stare openly at the men on the ground, seeing blood from their noses, their heads.
And in the center of all of it, Noel and Kane each grab one of the attackers and haul them upright like they weigh nothing. The men can barely stand, legs wobbling, breaths hitching. Noel has a fist in the back of Scar’s jacket, dragging him like a misbehaving animal. Kane grips Beard by the collar, nudging him forward with sharp, uncompromising shoves of his skate blades.
They don’t escort them off the rink; theyremovethem.
People scatter to give them space, parting like the Red Sea.
Only when the men are handed over to two wide-eyed rink security attendants does Chris turn back to me. His breathing is steady. Controlled. His hands come up immediately, sweeping over my waist, my arms, checking for bruises, checking for shaking, checking for anything out of place.
“You okay, gorgeous?” His voice is low, raw around the edges, like he hasn’t fully come down from the adrenaline.
I swallow hard, nodding. “I-I think so.” My voice comes out shaky despite the nod. “That was… terrifying. And also pretty damn impressive. You all took them down like it was nothing.”
A slow grin curves his mouth, the dangerous kind. “You have no idea how brutal it was about to get if they didn’t stay down.” He leans in, presses a kiss to my brow, soft and grounding. “No one touches you. Ever.”
His hands stay on my hips, holding me in place, steady and protective.
Behind him, Noel and Kane return across the ice with predatory calm, their blades slicing smooth arcs as if they didn’t just slam two grown men into the boards. They shoot glances atme, assessing, making sure I’m unhurt, before melting back into flanking positions around us.
My heart still thunders. My palms are still damp. But something in me settles.
Not because the danger is gone.
But because I’ve never felt safer in my life.
“I think we should go,” I whisper, because if we stay out here, I might cry, or kiss all three of them in front of an entire crowd of families and children recording us for TikTok.
Chris nods instantly, pulling me fully into his side. His arm wraps around my waist, firm and protective, like he’s putting himself between me and the whole world. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice rough with lingering adrenaline.
The three of them guide me off the ice. The crowd parts without question, sensing the danger still crackling off them.
We return our rental skates in silence, and when the cold night air hits my lungs outside the rink, I finally breathe again. “Thank you,” I say quietly, looking at each of them one by one. “For everything.”
Noel studies my face like he’s memorizing every detail. “We protect what’s ours,” he says softly.
Kane nods, jaw still tense. “No one gets near you while we’re around. Ever.”
Chris threads his fingers through mine, his grip warm and steady. “And you don’t thank us for doing what we were made to do. Keeping you safe isn’t a chore. It’s the easiest promise I’ll ever keep.”
The words should overwhelm me. They should feel heavy or frightening or too much too soon. Instead, something inside me loosens, like a knot pulled free after being tight for years.
We walk through the snow-dusted street toward their truck. The night is quiet now, the echo of the rink far behind us, and theonly warmth in the world seems to be radiating from the three men walking beside me.
Their presence steadies the tremble still lingering in my bones. My pulse finally slows, syncing to something calmer, deeper. And as Noel opens the truck door for me, and Chris settles a hand at my back to help me in, and Kane stands close enough behind me that I can feel the heat of him through my coat…
It hits me. Not like a lightning bolt or a dramatic realization. More like a quiet truth finally allowed to surface. These men aren’t a threat to my independence or my identity. They’re not here to cage me or consume me.
They’re choosing me.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel the urge to choose someone back.
Not because I’m scent-matched. But because being with them feels like the most natural thing to do.
And maybe that’s the beginning of something real that doesn’t take anything away from me but gives me pieces I didn’t know I was missing.
I glance at them as the truck door closes, my heart steady for the first time all night.
I’m not falling.
