CHAPTER 1
DANICA
The arena erupts as someone slams into Damien, my brother, the collision reverberating through the arena. Damien staggers backward across the ice, and panic seizes my chest.
Hastily, Damien jams his stick down hard to steady himself.
Around me, the crowd feeds off the violence, their roars of approval irking against my nerves. This is exactly why hockey has never made sense to me.
Sometimes I wonder why Damien chose this sport. Soccer would’ve been safer, and less violent.
“Oh my God, that’s the hockey golden boy!” The girl next to me practically launches out of her seat, her manicured finger pointing toward the towering figure who just shoved my brother away.
He moves with the kind of swagger that screams arrogance, with his shoulders back, head high, circling the ice like he owns every inch of it.
Damien shoots him a warning finger, and I know instantly who the hell he is: Jayden Rivers.
The name alone makes my jaw clench. I’ve heard enough about him to last a lifetime. About how he deliberately gets under Damien’s skin, how they compete for everything, how they’re both the star hockey players ArdenHill College has produced since their freshmen years.
Damien’s contempt for him has always been crystal clear, and that’s been more than enough for me to hate him too, without even knowing him physically.
Now here he is, in plain sight, making my hatred for him triple.
How dare he hurt my brother? How dare he act arrogant like the whole ice field belongs to him?
“He’s literally the only reason I come to these games,” another girl who doesn’t look like she studies here, chimes in, her voice shrill enough to make my teeth ache. “I love you, Jayden Rivers!”
Her tone of desperation is embarrassing, with the way she keeps screaming at someone who doesn’t even know she exists.
Forcing my attention back to the ice, I try to focus on Damien. This game matters because this is his shot at the championship next month, which will subsequently qualify him to get into the NHL after graduation.
“You can do this,” I mutter slowly, wishing the words can somehow reach him through the chaos.
It’s my first time at one of his games, actually sitting in the stands rather than watching from home. I only transferred to ArdenHill College from EverCrest last week, because of a lot of reasons; one of which is to be closer to my only confidant, my brother.
The game intensifies and the atmosphere becomes thick with tension. Jayden Rivers keeps playing the hard way, blocking, hitting, shoving and moving forward, until Damien appears on his side again and I suck in a breath.
They’re both racing for the puck, and the crowd grows restless with expectancy. Even their teammates seem divided; half rallying behind Rivers like he’s some kind of god, the other half with Damien.
“What the hell is going on?” I surge to my feet, heart hammering with dread and confusion at the division.
“What’s wrong with her?” One of the girls says but I ignore her as I continue to tap my feet restlessly on the floor, with my arms akimbo.
The coach bellows instructions from the bench as Damien gains control, driving toward the goal.
“Come on, Damien. Come on,” I whisper, more to myself.
“Is that her boyfriend or something?” One of the girls snicker and the others laugh mockingly.
“Must be, Jayden’s about to destroy him anyway. Five minutes left. Go, Jayden!” She lets out another ear-splitting shriek.
Something inside me snaps. I whirl toward them, ready to tell them exactly where they can shove their comment to themselves, but before I can say a word, the first girl gasps, pointing frantically at the ice.
“Jayden has it! Go, go, go!”
My head whips back towards the ice to see Damien is down, sprawled across the ice.
Rivers has the puck, and he is flying toward the net with terrifying speed.
The crowd loses its mind. I watch Damien haul himself up, and even from here, I can see the fury radiating off him, his jaw, and fists clenched.
Dread pools in my stomach. I know that look.
“Don’t do it,” I mumble desperately. “Please don’t do it.”
But within seconds, the game becomes even more competitive. This isn’t ArdenHill versus Detroit anymore. It’s Damien versus Jayden.
Damien slams his body into Jayden and the impact makes me flinch, as the crowd roars. Jayden’s stick crack against Damien in retaliation, and in one swift move, Damien has the puck again, racing towards the net which is just a meter away.
I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to watch. “One, two, three, four, five, six—”
“GOAL!” The arena explodes.
My eyes fly open. Damien’s teammates are lifting him, their faces alight with victory. I collapse back into my seat, relief flooding through me so intensely my hands shake.
Dad is going to be so proud.
And mom too.
Maybe this will change everything. Maybe this will make Mom change her mind about the divorce.
The final whistle pierces the air, and people start filing out.
I grab my crossbody bag, ready to meet Damien in the locker room to congratulate him, when a sharp crack echoes through the building.
I spin around to see Damien and Rivers standing face-to-face on the ice, sticks planted between them like weapons, hurling insults at each other.
“No, no, no,” I breathe, shoving past people trying to get closer before this explodes.
Rivers strikes first, his fist connecting with Damien’s face with brutal force.
The crowd screams. I halt, watching in horror as Damien stumbles on the ice.
Rivers stalks toward Damien with dangerous intent, yanks him up by his jersey, and suddenly, they’re swinging at each other, their fists connecting with each other’s face.
Blood sprays across the ice, in contrast to the white ice, and screams of panic begin to resonate round the arena.
“STOP!” someone shouts, but it’s lost in the chaos.
My bag hits the floor, and I’m running before I realize I’ve moved, tearing down the steps of the seating section.
Players swarm Rivers, trying to pull him back, but he shoves through them like they’re nothing, relentless in his fury.
The image of Damien bleeding on the ice ignites something primal in me.
“How dare he!”
The coach appears, gesturing sharply for everyone to clear the ice. I don’t stop running until I reach the gate in the boards where players enter and exit, chest heaving as I watch someone help Damien to his feet.
The coach brushes past me. “Hey, where do you think you’re…” But I don’t stop to listen to what he is about to say.
The players start filing toward the exit. The second the way is clear, I step onto the ice.
The cold bites through the thin soles of my Converse, almost tempting me to stop what I am about to do, but adrenaline propels me forward until I’m directly in Jayden Rivers’ path.
He is focused on Damien as he steps towards the exit, not even aware of my presence, until he nearly collides with my shoulder.
He stops, turns to look ahead, and our eyes meet.
The first thing I noticed is how dark, cold his midnight eyes are, completely devoid of warmth. The kind of eyes that should terrify me. But rage burns too hot for me to be intimidated by him.
Up close, he is so tall, and even more overwhelming than I expected. Tattoos of dangerous creatures snake up his neck, peeking out of his hockey jersey. I can see the drawing of skulls, serpents, and wings spreading across his collarbone. His dark hair is a mess from the fight, falling across his forehead in a way that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow is.
I’ve heard the stories of how he uses his looks to get whatever he wants, how girls fall over themselves for him. But I never imagined he’d be this striking in person.
Dangerous, and beautiful, yet utterly cold.
For a second, I forget why I’m standing here.
“Danica, what the hell are you doing on the ice?” Damien’s voice cuts through the fog as he limps closer, jerking me back to reality.
Rivers’ gaze flicks to my brother, then back to me, and recognition dawns on him that I am Damien’s sister.
His expression doesn’t change, though. Just that same blank, unreadable mask, like his face doesn’t know how to register emotion.
He attempts to step past me but I am quick to block his way.
He stares down at me again, his dark eyes flat with something like boredom.
I wait for him to tell me to get lost but he doesn’t speak.
My heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
Finally, I am able to make a word. “How. Dare You?! You jerk!”
I’m supposed to say How Dare You Hit My Brother!
“Danica…” Damien limps closer, and the sight of him struggling to walk reignites my fury.
Rivers’ eyes tingle for a moment with surprise and then his voice cuts through the air, vibrating around me. “Say that again.”
His voice is so deep, it feels like the hum of a car. It doesn’t feel like he owns it.
When I don’t say a word as I try to catch myself in check, he steps aside again and I block him. Then he shoves me away lightly and something in me snaps.
I do the one thing I always do when my fight instinct kicks in.
My palm cracks across his face so hard the sound echoes through the arena.
