Summary:

The square in front of the rink was plastered with posters of the players, ticket prices, and the location of games. Nowhere was there a poster of the Montreal Mighties because the team Shane played for was, according to everyone in that building, not the main attraction. After all, it didn't matter that in their last game Shane scored more goals in the first period than most do all game, or that he won every face off, or that he can out-skate anyone on any of the teams in his league. No, what mattered was that three months before his rookie year his traitorous body pushed itself into a heat and any chance he had of playing pro had vanished with it. No pro team wanted to sign him, even when he’d been in the running for first draft pick, and he’d taken up the only offer he did get from the Montreal Mighties because it was close to home and it allowed him to be close, if not a part of, the sport he’d dedicated his whole life to. Then he gets the call from All-Stars. The catch? His captain is the obnoxiously perfect alpha Ilya Rozanov.