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She was mine.

And I wasn’t fucking letting her go.

Chapter 5

Iris

Iarrived at Pandora's Box early, as usual. The ice glimmered under the overhead lights, a pristine sheet waiting for my blades to carve through it. I took a deep breath, inhaling the sharp, cold air mixed with the metallic scent of the rink. Today was different; today I would take my power back.

No more letting Knox Callahan get into my head. No more second-guessing myself after his taunts and his weight against me. Today, I focused on my game—my rhythm, my speed. Nothing else mattered.

I laced up my skates with determination, each pull of the laces tightening not just the leather around my feet but also the resolve in my chest. Dad's praise from last night echoed in my mind, steady and grounding."You’ve got what it takes, Iris. You have to want it."His words felt like armor. Team USA loomed in front of me like a beacon; all I had to do was reach for it.

Knox? He was just a guy—a coach. A temporary one at that. His problems were not mine to carry.

I shook off the thoughts of him standing there with that damn smirk on his face—the way he looked at me like I was some puzzle he wanted to solve but couldn't quite figure out.

I don’t care if he hates me;I told myself, tapping the toe of my skate against the ice for emphasis.I don’t care if he looks at me like that.

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t entirely true. There was something about Knox—his intensity, his confidence—that rattled me more than I wanted to admit.

I inhaled sharply and pushed off into a glide across the rink, feeling the familiar rush as I cut through the silence. This was where I belonged—focused, free, and in control of every move.

Today would be different; today was mine.

The rink slowly filled with the familiar chatter of my teammates as they trickled onto the ice, their laughter echoing off the walls. Jenna shot me a bright smile but kept her distance, her skates gliding cautiously, as if she feared getting too close to whatever storm had brewed between me and Knox. Most of them were like that today, keeping a respectful space around me.

That was fine; I needed the focus anyway. I could drown out their whispers and giggles while honing in on my own game.

Coach Callahan blew his whistle sharply, the sound cutting through the din of chatter. He called everyone to gather at center ice.

“All right, ladies! Today we’re starting with laps—easy drills to get those legs moving,” he instructed, his voice carrying authority that reminded me why he’d earned respect from all of us. “I want you to push yourselves. Let’s see some speed!”

As we began skating laps around the rink, I fell into a rhythm—the familiar sound of blades carving against ice soothing my nerves.

But then it happened; I felt him before I saw him.

Knox stepped onto the ice, his presence undeniable even among a group of girls who had trained together for years. My heart skipped when our eyes locked for just a second—his jaw tight, brows knitted in concentration. He looked more tensethan usual, like he was barely holding something together inside him.

I wondered if he was still angry about yesterday or if this frustration stemmed from something else entirely—maybe someone else?

But just like that, I looked away first, breaking our moment. The way his gaze weighed on me unsettled my focus more than I cared to admit.

As much as I tried to play it cool—like Knox didn’t affect me—there was an undeniable power he held over me that felt impossible to shake off. So instead of dwelling on it, I pushed harder into my stride, letting my legs carry me faster while the others faded into a blur around us.

As the drills kicked off, I fell into the motions of passing and speed work. At first, everything felt fine—natural. I moved through the drills, focused on crisp passes and swift transitions. My teammates chatted as they skated, their laughter a pleasant backdrop to my thoughts.

But then there was Knox, circling the rink like a fucking predator. His eyes tracked us, assessing every move we made. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze as it settled on me, sending a jolt through my chest. Every time I executed a perfect pass or made a smooth turn, I found myself glancing at him, searching for any hint of approval. Did he notice? Did he see me pushing myself?

Yet when I stumbled—a misplaced puck or a sloppy pivot—I couldn't shake the feeling that he was smirking at my mistakes, reveling in my failures like some twisted spectator at a show. I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away from him.

It didn’t matter,I told myself.He’s just here to coach.

But my pulse raced faster than it should have, each thud echoing in my ears louder than the sound of skates against ice.With each passing drill, that heartbeat drummed a reminder of what was at stake: my future with Team USA.

I pushed harder, cutting through the ice with determination that bordered on desperation. The world blurred around me as I concentrated solely on skating faster, executing each drill flawlessly. If Knox had been watching before, he would have seen me now—a girl who refused to back down.

The air turned colder with each lap around the rink, but sweat clung to my skin nonetheless as I drove forward relentlessly. Every time my blades met the surface with precision and speed, I could almost imagine his eyes widening in surprise—or disappointment.