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“Take it.”

We went back out.

The third period was vicious, although not because anybody suddenly decided to play dirty. It was worse than that because everything was clean, hard, and desperate, with every check finished and every puck contested by men who understood there might not be another game after tonight.

The first ten minutes disappeared in a blur of line changes and blocked shots. Taz stopped a breakaway that should have beaten him, their goalie robbed Max after he found space at the edge of the circle, and I blocked a shot with my thigh that sent pain burning all the way to my hip. I spent the next thirty seconds wondering whether my leg had actually fallen off, only to discover it was still attached and therefore Cinder would almost certainly refuse to let me sit down.

With five minutes remaining, we were still tied, and every shift felt longer than the one before it as fatigue began dragging at legs that had already played more hockey than any of us wanted to think about. Taz stopped another shot through traffic, Max nearly forced a turnover along the boards, and I blocked another puck with the same thigh because apparently, I had developed a personal grudge against walking.

Then, with one minute and forty-seven seconds left, Vegas scored.

For one terrible moment, the entire building seemed to forget how to make a sound.

The puck sat in our net while the Vegas bench erupted, and when I looked up at the scoreboard, seeing their three beside our two made something inside my chest drop.

There were less than two minutes left in Game Seven, and our season was disappearing in front of us.

“No,” I said, although there was no chance anyone heard me.

Max was already heading toward the bench, his expression hard enough to cut glass.

“No,” he repeated when he reached me, louder and far more certain, as though sheer force of will could alter what had just happened.

Theron called timeout, and we crowded around him while he drew the final play on the board. Taz would come out as soon as we had possession, giving us six attackers and leaving the net empty, which meant there was no safety left. We either found a way to tie the game or watched Vegas celebrate on our ice.

While Theron talked, I looked across at Max.

This couldn't be how it ended.

Not after everything we had survived to get here, and certainly not after I’d spent years allowing my father to control every decision because I was terrified of what might happen if I stopped.

I had my life back.

I wasn’t ready to surrender anything else.

The whistle sent us back onto the ice, and Taz came out as soon as we established possession, leaving six of us to chase the goal that would keep our season alive.

Vegas cleared once and forced us all the way back, burning precious seconds while Tyson retrieved the puck and turned up ice. By the time we re-entered the offensive zone, less than a minute remained, and the crowd had reached a level of noise where I could barely hear myself think.

Max carried the puck through neutral ice before dumping it deep enough for Cole to chase. Vegas gained possession anyway, and for one sickening second, they had enough space to fire toward our empty net.

The shot went wide.

Tyson got there first and immediately moved the puck forward.

“Colorado is running out of time,” Dave said, his usual humor completely gone now.

“They need something on this possession,” Jack replied. “They might not get another.”

Max took the puck along the boards and fought off one man before sending it behind the net, where Dante reached it and tried to throw it into the crease. Vegas collapsed toward the goal so quickly that all I could see were bodies as sticks tangled, skates carved through the paint, and everyone fought for possession.

The puck came loose and slid directly toward me.

I shot before I had time to think.

It disappeared through traffic, leaving me with no idea where it had gone until the net moved and the horn sounded.

The noise that followed was so enormous it seemed to become something physical, crashing over me at the same moment Dante hit me from the side and Baelor slammed into my back.