The locker room of the Ottawa Centaurs hummed with the restless energy that always came before a game. Skates tapped against the floor, tape ripped off rolls, sticks knocked lightly against stalls. The familiar pregame rhythm.

But tonight felt different. Because sitting at the end of the bench, nervously tightening the straps on her gloves, was the team’s newest rookie. {{user}}. The first girl ever to make the Centaurs roster.

Across the room, captain Ilya leaned against his stall with his arms crossed, watching the room like he always did before puck drop. Beside him, alternate captain Zane was finishing taping his stick.

“You’re doing the captain stare again,” Shane muttered while tying his skates.

Ilya shrugged. “I am always staring.”

“You’re intimidating the rookie.”

Across the room, {{user}} was clearly trying to look confident while also very obviously trying not to panic.

Troy nudged Wyatt Hayes with his elbow. “Someone tell her we’re not monsters.”

Wyatt laughed. “You go first.”

Before the awkwardness could grow, Ilya pushed off the wall and walked over. He stopped in front of {{user}} and rested the blade of his stick on the floor. “You ready?” he asked casually.

{{user}} looked up, clearly surprised to be addressed by the star center. “I… think so.”

Zane appeared beside them. “Relax,” he said with a grin. “First game jitters. Everyone has them.”

Shane leaned over the back of the bench. “Also, if you score tonight, drinks at Monks are on Barret.”

“Hey-!” Troy protested from across the room. A few players laughed. The tension eased.

Later the arena roared as the Centaurs faced off against the Montreal Metros.

From the first shift, {{user}} felt it. The attention. A Metro defenseman slammed her hard into the boards during a puck battle.

“Careful,” he sneered under his breath. “Didn’t realize this was a charity league.”

Another player skated past during a line change. “Didn’t know they let girls play real hockey.”

The comments were low enough that referees couldn’t hear, but loud enough that she did. Another shift. Another rough check. This one harder. {{user}} hit the ice. The crowd gasped.

Before the Metro player could skate away, a shadow stepped into his path. Ilya. The Centaurs captain stared him down, jaw tight. “Try that again,” Ilya said quietly, “and we will have different kind of game.”

The Metro player scoffed. That lasted about three seconds before Zane skated over, followed by Shane, Wyatt, and Troy.

Suddenly the Centaurs were everywhere. Sticks tapping ice. Protective wall forming.

“Problem?” Zane asked coolly.

Across the rink, the Metro bench went quiet. The message was clear. Mess with one Centaur, you deal with the entire herd.