Page 109 of The Price of Ice

His dad sought out his eyes. “Not saying it’s the same. To think you could be out there. Hell, that the bloody White Cats could still bein the runningfor the Cup if they hadn’t treated you like dirt...” He shook his head, and Kallen didn’t try to correct his generous assumption. Or maybe not so generous, he’d never won a game on his own, of course, but he’d made a difference to his team, he knew he had.

And if his dad thought he might have this time, too... Well, he was entitled to his fatherly pride and Kallen would take the implied compliment.

He might as well. He didn’t have much else left when it came to hockey, did he?

“I don’t know what to do now,” he admitted. That was the heart of it, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter why he couldn’t play, just that he couldn’t and without it, his life felt empty.

“Can’t tell you that,” his dad told him. “But what if your part isn’t something you hate doing, huh? Could be your part is, I don’t know, talking to young omega kids about what a bad idea it was or whatever.”

Kallen straightened, his father was still talking, the grandfather clock on the wall was still ticking, but there was a sudden sharp silence in his head.

“It’s only an idea,” his dad was saying when he tuned back in. Had his mum even told him aboutFair Sport? Kallen hadn’t said anything about it since the first meeting.

“No, it’s... There is something I can do. Something I don’t think I’llminddoing,” he said and this time when he reached for the tea, he savoured the first sip and then the second, holding the sweetness in his mouth and the sweetness of the moment in his mind. “And I think I have a talent for it, too.”

HE HALF WANTED TO SHOUTit from the rooftops, but he didn’t tell his dad right then, excusing himself to shower off the workout. It wasn’t like he had a plan, really.

He had no idea if it was even possible. Sure, evidence pointed to him having an innate facility for using lure, but he’d taughtoneperson and who said Taylor wasn’t a particularly clever student? Or simply someone who got Kallen’s style. In school, he’d hated presentations, he remembered, and as much as he loved hockey, the idea of helping kids with it had made him want to hide.

Not that it would need to be kids. If the omegas atFair Sportwere representative of the general population, it probablyshouldn’tbe kids. Not that they didn’t need to learn, but adults surely needed it much more urgently. They were the ones dealing with heat, for one thing.

And God, this probably meant he was going to have to take Taylor up on his request to teach the rest of the group. Unless a real expert showed up and Kallen could learn from them. That would have been better, safer, really. If he was just a talented amateur and there was an expert to tell him if he messed up.

So he knew nothing, except that the idea had him more excited than he remembered being in a long time. He recognised the feeling; it was how hockey used to make him feel.

He couldn’t say when he’d lost it, when the ice had become a place he went to escape from the rest of his life instead of the place where he went to shine.

There was no point in telling anyone else yet, even if they’d be supportive—and he was pretty sure all his friends would be—it would all be an illusion.

Texting Levy that afternoon after he got home from a run to play Scrabble was just a good distraction. There was nothing wrong with goofing about with a friend when you were on holiday.

He didn’t mean to mention his dad. But Levy had video called halfway through the game, even though it meant they’d had to restart the app on their tablets.

“Wow, that’s huge,” Levy said wonderingly, he was slumped on his sofa, so relaxed it made Kallen want to curl up against him.

“Yeah, I didn’t think he’d apologise. Like, my mum said he was sorry, but...” He shrugged a little, eyes cutting away from the camera.

“Well, I’m impressed,” Levy told him.

Kallen swallowed, then admitted, “I might have screamed at him first. For not... I don’t know, for pushing me to keep playing or not stopping me. Which is not even fair, really, because obviously I wanted to play, but...”

“Of course it’s fair!” Levy actually straightened at that. “He is your dad, it’s his job to protect you. And he didn’t do that very well, did he? In fact, he did the opposite, so—” He stopped, maybe noticing that Kallen was staring at him. “I mean, he is your dad, I don’t want to diss him. But you have every right to be angry, or disappointed.”

“Okay.”

Levy looked up, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Sorry. Got a bit carried away, I guess. I just... You should get angry when people aren’t treating you right, that’s how it works, you get pissed and they get they fucked up.”

Kallen blinked at him. Was Levy actually explaining how anger worked? “I get angry.”

Levy didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I know yougetangry,” he said. “But you don’t normally scream at people about it.”

“Oh.” It was true, of course. Yet another thing he’d signed away without realising.

“It’s not a criticism!” Levy was saying, earnestly. “I meant that you are doing better and— Well, that’s good. I’m glad you are.”

Kallen nodded, then tried for a joke. “Even if I get angry at you?”

“Get angry all you want,” Levy said at once, way too serious. “I’ll take you angry, and sad, and, well, happy, for a preference. But I’ll take you any way.”

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