Cassian's POV.
I slammed the locker room door behind me, shutting out the noise of the rink and the uneasy chatter. The cold air was gone, replaced by the thick, sweaty smell of bodies spent from practice. But that puck…the one that hit the boards by Aria…was still burning in my mind.
I dropped it on the bench and stared. The faint chemical scent was still clinging to it, sharp and out of place in a place that should have smelled only like ice and rubber. Whoever did this wasn’t just screwing around. This was deliberate. Dangerous.
My fingers gripped the puck tighter than I meant to. The rubber dug into my skin. “Who the hell sent this?” I muttered.
The door creaked and Drew slipped inside, closing it behind him.
“Coach is losing it,” Drew said quietly, voice low, like he was trying
