Since I'm not sure when I'll start posting Nilsson's story, I decided to give you a sneak peek of what's to come... this is from the first chapter...

The rookie was going to be the death of him, of that Lucas was sure.

It wasn't the death-defying stunts she performed on the pitch. No, those he had full confidence she could perform without chance of getting seriously hurt. But her personal life drama was constantly creating headaches. It wasn't so much that he found them annoying. Moreso he wanted to protect her from such things, but was limited in his capacity as a coach.

He barely held it together in the hospital after they had rushed there from the pitch after the Falcons match, getting flashbacks of that day that changed his life nearly four years ago. After leaving, he went home to his cottage in a small village outside London and had smashed half his plates in anger and frustration. He had picked up a bottle of vodka on the way home in a sort of stupor, even though he hadn't had a drop of alcohol in nearly four years.

She was hurt and there hadn't been a damn thing he could have done to have stopped it or protect her.

He sat at the kitchen table staring at the bottle. Debating back and forth with himself.

"It'll feel better after just one drink…"

"But what if I don't stop…"

"You will stop… You need this…"

"But last time…"

"This isn't last time… It'll help you sleep…"

"I can't be like I was…"

"You know you want to go break his nose… you'll feel better if you do…"

The old demons that he thought he had silenced years ago were rearing their ugly heads, urging him to act on his dark instincts. Go find the fucking Falcons seeker and beat him to a bloody pulp. Drink until all he could feel was dull numbness. He sat at the table staring at the bottle, clenching and unclenching his fists.

It was like this that his old friend Hugo Larssen had found him. As soon as he had heard about the accident, he went to the hospital, only to find that Lucas had left. He then immediately went to Lucas' house, knowing he needed to check on him. He remembered what he had been like after his sister had died.

"Tell me you didn't drink anything," Hugo said as soon as he entered the kitchen. Lucas looked at him and slowly shook his head.

"I didn't even realize I had bought it until I got home," he said softly. Hugo looked around the broken dishes on the floor and sighed. With the wave of his wand, the broken pieces gathered themselves and flew over to the bin. He sat at the table across from Lucas and grabbed the vodka, pulling it out of his friend's reach.

"You can't do this again," he said seriously, studying him.

"I wasn't going to," Lucas replied, this time a bit more forcefully. Hugo watched him a moment then stood, opening the bottle. He walked to the sink and poured the contents down the drain.

"Just in case, I can't leave this here with you," he said. He looked over at Lucas. "You want to talk about it?" Lucas sighed and sat back in his chair.

"I thought I was going to lose her," he said. "Just… when she lost her grip… and then when the bludger hit her. The way she hit the ground…" He shook his head and rubbed his face.

"She is going to get hurt. That's the nature of the game. You know this," Hugo said, walking back to the table and sitting across from him.

"I know… just something about this time…" he murmured. He suddenly clenched his fists as he thought about the Falcons seeker. "I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to run back to the locker room and beat him..." His ice blue eyes flashed as a scowl appeared on his usually composed face.

"But you can't," Hugo said. "You have to control your anger." Lucas looked up at his old friend and sighed, feeling the fight leave him.

"I can't be like I was," he said. "I won't be."