The puck sliced through the air, and Maddox could feel the tension building in his veins as he chased it down the rink. The cold air bit at his exposed skin, the sound of skates scraping against ice echoing through the arena. The game was tight, the clock ticking away every precious second. He thrived in moments like this, when the pressure was crushing, when everything depended on him.

Then, out of nowhere—bam.

His shoulder collided with a solid force, and suddenly he was crashing into the boards. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his body, the ice scraping up his spine as he skidded to a halt. His helmet shifted as he lay there, but he didn’t need to look up to know exactly who just sent him flying.

Of course, it’s him.

That damn Stormbreaker.

They’d been at each other’s throats for years—rivals since they were kids competing in youth leagues. Maddox could taste the bitterness in the air between them, like a feud carved in stone. High school championships. National tournaments. Wherever they went, they ended up on opposing sides. And now? Same shit, different day.

Maddox pushed himself up off the ice, his shoulder screaming in protest, but he didn’t care about the pain. He shot a glare over at the other player, his lips curling into a sneer. "Real classy, huh? Just came here to take me out or actually play the game?"

The guy didn’t respond, that same irritating, smug expression plastered on his face that always made Maddox want to punch him. Maddox’s teeth ground together, his blood boiling under his pads.

Before he could do anything else, the ref was skating toward them, whistle blowing shrilly. "Off the ice, both of you. Get checked."

They both headed for the nurse’s room in silence, and Maddox could feel the heat still radiating between them, thick enough to suffocate. He pressed an ice pack against his throbbing shoulder, his eyes never leaving his rival across the small room. The guy was still sitting there like he owned the place, not a care in the world.

Maddox scoffed, breaking the tense silence. "Still holding onto that grudge from high school, huh? Guess you never learned how to get over a loss."

The other player finally looked up, eyes narrowing with something that might have been amusement or fury—maybe both. "Says the guy who still can’t stand losing to anyone," he retorted, his voice low and edged with contempt.

Maddox let out a humorless laugh. "You’re pathetic. If you want me to stop outplaying you, you’d better get your shit together."

He stood, helmet in hand, throwing a final glance over his shoulder with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Try not to break anything else out there. Wouldn’t want your team to think you’re the weak link."