The crisp air bit at my cheeks, but I barely felt it. The roar of the crowd was a physical thing, vibrating through the ice beneath my skates. Across the center line, Dominic loomed, a dark mountain of intensity in his gear, his focus entirely on me. The annual pack hockey tournament had become our unlikely battleground, a place where all our pent-up passion and competition found an outlet.

“Ready to lose, little wolf?” he called out, his voice a low growl that carried over the ice and went ...