Summary:

Troy crouches down, the cold of the ice sinking into his pants as he hovers uselessly above Shane. “Shane?” He says quietly, “Shane, can you hear me?” There’s a glazed, dazed look to his eyes, unfocused as they dart around, and Troy panics. “Ilya!” He shouts at the Alpha. “Shane, Rozanov.” Troy knows that Shane is perfectly capable of handling the sexist chirps and overeager body slams, but when the opposition takes it too far, Ilya proves exactly why you don’t mess with his Omega.