The cold still hung in the air, but the crowd had mostly dispersed. The Musketeers lingered with the Phantoms, the buzz of the game still fresh in their veins. For the first time all night, everyone seemed loose. Even Bennett, who usually wore indifference like a second skin, had his hands out of his pockets.

Dominic led them toward the edge of the rink, where players were beginning to emerge from the locker rooms in casual clothes, jackets zipped, hair damp, adrenaline cooling.

"Well," Dominic said, glancing at Naomi, "you ready to meet the chaos Queens?"

Naomi raised an eyebrow. "You make them sound like wild animals."

"That's generous," he murmured just as the doors swung open.

Arya stepped out first, dark plaid jacket over a hoodie, curls still slightly wild, laughter trailing her like it belonged there. She was mid-convo with a teammate, but as soon as her eyes landed on Dominic, her face lit up. Then she saw Naomi beside him.

"Ooooh," she grinned, practically skipping over. "You must be Naomi, he's mentioned you like three hundred times."

Naomi blinked. "Oh?"

Arya grinned. "If I'd known you were in the crowd, I would've dedicated that slapshot to you."

Naomi raised a brow. "That's oddly sweet."

"I'm very sweet," Arya said seriously. "Also, deadly accurate."

Tessa appeared behind her, bomber jacket unzipped, arms crossed and unimpressed. "She's fishing for compliments."

Arya didn't even look back. "You're just bitter because you can't recreate your goal."

Tessa rolled her eyes. "Please."

Before the snark could escalate, Dominic cleared his throat. "Alright, let's not start."

He turned to the boys. "Jordan, Declan, Bennett, these are the Phantoms: Arya Hudson, Tessa Blake, and Davina Carter."

Arya lit up again and turned to the group. "Hi! It's really cool you all came."

Jordan nodded, clearly a little starstruck. "You were amazing."

Arya beamed. "Thanks. You're Naomi's friends, so you must be halfway decent."

Jordan grinned back. "We try."

They were already falling into step, as if this wasn't the first time they'd met.

"You were incredible out there," Jordan continued. "I blinked and you were already past their defense. Is teleportation allowed in hockey?"

"Flattery will get you a long way," she said, then leaned closer. "Unless you're terrible at skating."

"I'm incredible at standing still and looking impressed."

"I can work with that."

Dominic sighed. "And it begins."

Meanwhile, Declan offered Tessa a quiet nod. "You played well."

"Thanks," she replied, then quickly looked away. A flicker of something passed between them, unspoken, unsure, but there.

Tyler, standing nearby, noticed the way her stance shifted slightly, arms tighter, chin lifted. He said nothing.

Beside them, Bennett offered Davina a quiet: "Smart play at the end. You read the ice well."

Davina gave a soft smile. "Thank you. Took a risk, but it paid off."

"You make it look calculated."

"That's the job."

A pause. Something respectful sat between them.

Just then, Daphne approached, soft as a shadow. Her long black hair was loose now, and her denim jacket hung just right against the evening air.

"Hey," she greeted quietly, sliding next to Tyler.

He turned to her instantly. "You okay? That hit looked rough."

"I'm fine," she said gently. "Nothing I can't handle."

Naomi smiled, genuine and impressed. "That save in the third? That was unreal. You saw the shot before it even left their stick."

Daphne blinked, then offered a soft laugh, surprised, maybe, but pleased. "Thanks. I've been trying to get better at anticipating plays."

Tyler gave her a sidelong look, pride practically radiating from him. "You nailed it."

Jordan, not missing a beat, leaned toward Bennett and said under his breath, "She's like a graceful sniper. Quiet. Deadly. Also, she's definitely out of his league."

With all four girls out of their gear, they looked like an entirely different force still powerful, just quieter about it.

Davina, cool and all-black with quiet authority.

Daphne, graceful and understated in gray denim.

Tessa, ready-for-war in a black bomber jacket.

Arya, vibrant and magnetic in black-and-white plaid.

Naomi stood among them with the boys behind her watching the way everything shifted. The Musketeers had arrived just to watch a game.

Now?

She wasn't quite sure.