Aliona’s POV
I sat at the edge of the ensuite rink in Julian Romero’s mansion. The echo of the puck hitting the net rang sharp and clean across the rink, followed by the faint sound of Julian’s breath.
He was steady now. Stronger than he’d been when I first arrived at Silverstone. The proud, hard-headed Alpha who had once been broken was slowly stitching himself back together.
I sat at the corner of the training rink, notebook balanced on my lap, pen twirling absentmindedly between my fingers as I observed. My duty wasn’t only as a healer—it was to ensure he never overexerted himself. My gaze flicked between the clock, his stance, the sheen of sweat at his temples. Everything about him screamed determination, grit, and the weight of expectation.
Julian Romero wasn’t just training for
