BEYOND THE ICE

e air of San Diego, but for Lyon Navarro, the atmosphere

ood before the floor-to-ceiling mirrored wardrobe, staring at a reflection that felt like a lie. He adjusted the lapels of a tailored, charcoal-grey jacket. I

Shredder. Being the center of a storm was exactly

aught himself pouting in the glass-a sharp, restless expression. No. It was all wrong. Too str

efore the presses rolled. But this wasn't a newsroom. He was walking into a den of literal monsters. Six of them,

s. They weren't just the most aggressive hockey team in the league; they were a pack. Rumors of their lunar-driven tempers and supernatural strength were the worst-k

ng his legendary father. He'd seen Brandon Pierce walk out of high-society galas the moment Lyon stepped inside. He'd even been cornered by Mateo C

ile he often felt the weight of their predatory stares, he could handle it-even when the gaz

to win, but their egos and "extracurricular" violence kept them benched. Management wanted a championship, and to g

p, controlled, and untouchable. He'd been called confrontational and intimidating by every ma

different," he muttere

late. V

argas was waiting. The man was a mountain of a human with sal

s said, his voice a low rumble. "The owner wants you to lay out the PR

corridors of the arena, away from the publ

lse quickening. He'd hoped to pick them off one by one, us

Navarro isn't catching a scent of fear, is he? Good luck, kid. From what

who looked like he shouldn't be crossed. He squared his shoulders. Th

head held high. It was time