Patrick Kane has soft hands.

Sidney Crosby isn't the only omega playing in the NHL, but he is the only one suffering from heat-delay.

Sid growls. He can’t help it. It’s wrong. Malkin is whimpering and crying and struggling against his restraints. His scent is all fear and chemicals and something deeper, something dark and oppressing. Sid thinks it’s anger but it’s too bitter to try and get a proper read on.

At the 2014 Olympics, Russia injected Zhenya with a bond blocker, same as the last two times he'd been to the games. Only this time, it brought him to his knees and left him gasping, feeling like his soul was ripped from his body. As an unbonded omega, the shot should have no effect. It should have only targeted an active bond. Unbeknownst to Zhenya, Sid collapsed on the ice at the same time.

"I think I have to get bonded," Sid said in a hollow voice, cutting off Geno's building outrage. "Wait, what?" Geno asked, mind jumping like a car on a blown tire. "To who?" "Anybody." Sid's eyes were unfocused, staring through the wall in front of him. "I don't know. I just need to bond." "That's a story," Geno scoffed. He had always thought they had good sex education in Canada, but apparently, the rumors persisted there, too. "You don't stop heat if you bond." "Heat?" Sid asked, eyes squinched up curiously. "G—I'm not. You know I'm an alpha, right?" *** Or five times Sid couldn't bond with an omega and one time he did.

“Sid, I’m so—I’m sorry,” Geno said. “My stupid—I’m ruin everything, I—” “Shut up, Geno,” Sidney said, already intensely weary of listening to Geno’s self-recrimination. “You’ve barely even done anything.” Geno’s voice dropped what sounded like an entire octave. “But I want to.”

Beau has a good feeling about this season.

Marc was fine with being an omega, and then he went and imprinted on Kris Letang.

“You’re an investment,” Pat had told Sid over and over. “You’re a talent, and we’re not letting the league freeze you out for this.” The NHL demands omegas be bonded to play. Sid, unwilling to lose hockey, agrees to enter into a bond with the Penguins' draft prospect Evgeni Malkin. It does not go as they planned.

“What is it that you do, Omega Malkin?” Sid says eventually, tired of the guessing game. Apparently, he’s asked a controversial question. There’s a tension in the air. Mrs. Malkin starts giving a very particular look to her son and Omega Malkin shifts in his seat and straightens his spine like he’s gearing up for a fight. “Hockey,” Omega Malkin says evenly. Sid’s fork slips from his grip and clatters against his plate. He looks up and across the table at Omega Malkin. -- or; Sidney Crosby is an unbonded werewolf. So is Evgeni Malkin.

It’s okay to be a wolf in the NHL now. That’s what everyone tells Dylan, anyway. To Podfic: "I Love the Riddles That You Speak" & "Race Like Falcons to Crash and Burn"

Sex bonding for chemistry has never been fun for Kris. He’ll take a knot, but he’s not going to beg for it. He’s not going to roll over and make it easy. Kris may be an Omega, but he’s an alpha in bed. Lucky for him, he finally has a D partner that understands.