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CHAPTER 13

“Get her out of your head, man,” Aidric scoffs, passing me the puck with a flick of his wrist. “Her living up there isn’t doing you any favors.”

I growl just before slamming the puck right back at him. It slides across the ice, landing against his stick with practiced ease.

“I’m not thinking about her,” I snap.

It’s a lie.

The echo of her voice still lingers in my fucking skull. This isn’t about feelings, though. It’s not about heartbreak or jealousy or any of that emotional bullshit. This is about what she knows, and what she might do with that information.

It’s about the risk and exposure.

I worked my ass off to get where I am today, and I’ll be damned if I let Avery fucking Castle be the one to take it from me. One wrong move on her part, and everything could come crashing down. Not just for me, but for all of us.

This isn’t about today. Hell, it’s not even about tomorrow. This is about my future as a member of The Ice Society.

Not just as an Ice Lord playing hockey, but something bigger—something that lasts. For the first time in my life, I’ve been accepted and given a place to belong. And I don’t just want to keep it, I want to expand it. Bring others in. Build something that’ll outlive us all. Wrap this legacy around people who were just as lost as I once was. I want to give them something to fight for, like they’ve given me.

The majority of my teammates don’t give a fuck about The Society. It’s a temporary shortcut to protection, wins, and solidarity. They’ll leave this school, forgo being a permanent member of The Society, and move on with their lives in the NHL. But not me. I’m in it for the long run. I want something bigger than just the ice and the temporary high of power.

And yeah, maybe she’s on my mind, too. What we might do to her—what they might do to her. Some of our boys aren’t all about our secret organization, they just want to play the game, but the ones who are dedicated their soul to it.

I’ve seen what they’re capable of, and she’s yet to see the worst of it. Avery has no idea what kind of storm she’s dancing with. And if she starts playing nice with Liam Sanders and my boys catch wind of it, she’ll be standing dead center in a goddamn hurricane.

I still don’t get why she was so chummy with Liam in the first place. She doesn’t even know the guy. Just met him at the hospital, yet there she was acting like he was her goddamn savior. Like he was some knight in shining armor, swooping in to shield her from big bad me.

It’s laughable. Yet the thought of that asshole putting his dirty hands on her—touching what isn’t his—makes my skin burn. The moment he stood in front of her like a shield, something primal rose in my chest and I can’t quite swallow it down.

“Cromwell!” Coach’s voice booms across the rink. “Get your head out of the fucking clouds and focus!”

I snap out of it, glancing behind me just in time to see the puck slide across the ice, nowhere near where it should’ve gone.

“Told ya,” Aidric laughs, skating up beside me with that shit-eating grin. “You’re still fucking thinking about her, aren’t you?”

I shake my head hard, trying to clear the fog. He’s not wrong, but I still want to make him eat his teeth just for that stupid look on his face.

We pass the puck a few more times and my mind slowly finds that steady focus. The glide of the ice beneath my blades, the way it feels to slap a shot to Aidric knowing he’ll circle the goal and bring it right back to me so I can send it into the net.

When the whistle blows, we launch into some rounds of power skating. By the time we’re done, my legs are burning, and my lungs are on fire.

After drills, we huddle near center ice, and Coach barks out some plays for the Cloverville game.

“White attacks. Blue blocks. Now move!” The whistle sounds and we fall into our positions.

As soon as the puck drops, it’s game on.

I intercept the puck, eyes locked on the defense, and I send it down the ice without hesitation. It’s not about trying anymore; it’s a reflex that’s built into my bones.

We cycle through some power plays, penalty kills, and defensive stacks—all of which are tailored to Cloverville’s style.

For a while, I forget everything—even her. Almost.

Once the team wraps up, I yank off my helmet, sweat dripping down my neck.

“You killed it, man,” Aidric says, giving me a solid pat on the back. “After you finally got that chick outta your brain.”

I shake my head, grinning. “You’re fucking delusional.”

“Just calling it like I see it.”

Seb glides up to us with his helmet tucked under his arm, sweat slicking his hair back. I’m glad to see he’s not raging right now. At least they’re still letting him practice with the suspension hanging over his head. Seb got into some shit with one of the coaches and they really laid it on him hard. He’s bouncing back, though.

Near the exit, a couple of the ice girls are lingering. They’re all smiles, and their eyes are pinned to me, Sebastian, and Aidric like we’re the main attraction.

“Hey, boys,” Lani calls out, her voice sweet with a hint of mischief. She twirls a strand of her dark hair around her finger, eyes flicking between us. “You all look hungry. Care to grab a bite?”

Aidric doesn’t hesitate to chime in. “Depends on what we’re biting.” He grabs a firm handful of Jasmine’s ass, making her squeal. “If it’s this, then count me in.”

I, on the other hand, shoot a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m out. Got things to do.”

I don’t, really. But I’m exhausted and the last thing I feel like doing is entertaining puck bunnies with too much makeup and not enough personality.

“What the fuck, bro?” Aidric huffs, clearly offended. “Since when?” He leans in, dropping his voice to a near whisper.

“Did you see that ass?” he says, eyes wide like he’s talking about a damn miracle. He reaches out and gives Jasmine another squeeze, making her giggle.

“Come on.” He grins. “I’ll even let you tap it first.”

I just shake my head because no amount of ass grabbing, or tapping, is changing my mind.

Then, Seb casually raises his hand like he’s in class and the teacher just asked for volunteers. “I’ll ride that train.”

Jasmine and Lani smirk as they link their arms around Aidric and Seb’s, claiming them for the night.

Lani tosses a glance over her shoulder, a playful pout on her lips. “You sure you don’t wanna join us?”

I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth, offering a half smile. “Nah. Maybe next time.”

I watch them disappear, laughter and bad decisions trailing behind them.

What the fuck did I just pass up? More importantly, why did I just pass it up? This isn’t me. I live for tits and ass and girls who serve it up without hesitation. That’s my thing.

Something’s holding me back, though. Maybe it’s…

No. Hell no!

It’s not fucking Avery.

Don’t even let your mind go there, Callan. Don’t be that guy .

Thankfully, I’m yanked out of the spiral when Slade drops onto the bench next to me. I start unlacing my skates, and he does the same, both of us quiet for a moment.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, bud?” Slade asks, his voice low with a tinge of unease.

“Of course,” I tell him, setting my skates aside and giving him my full attention. “What’s going on?”

His fingers drag through his hair, slicking it back, and he exhales a sharp breath. “I’m struggling…bad,” he admits. “I think all this shit is starting to get to me.”

I didn’t expect that. As council advisor, I’ve had plenty of these conversations with guys who are cracking under pressure, buckling beneath the weight of our expectations, and all the secretive dark shit we’re wrapped up in. I just didn’t expect it from Slade. He’s always been so resilient and strong.

The sound of the door opening catches my attention, so I lean in. “I know it’s a lot,” I say quietly. “But I promise you, it’s worth it.”

Slade doesn’t look convinced. His eyes are distant, like he’s trying to balance something that won’t stop tipping.

“Is it, though?” he murmurs. “I mean…yeah, the team’s great. No question about that. But the price tag that comes with all this…” He shakes his head. “It’s high, Callan. Really fucking high. Can you honestly say you’d go back on everything you believed in, and everything you were, just for these guys?”

“Yes,” I say without question. “I absolutely would.”

“Well, I can’t.” His hands shoot up before slapping down on his thighs. “I took my oath without knowing how bad things could get. I was branded under the belief we were one—unified, in solidarity. But whatever is going on behind closed doors is starting to make its way out of the closet and I’m terrified about what that means for all of us. You, Aidric, and Seb are all keeping shit from the team and we wanna know why.”

The team is questioning us? That’s not good. If we’re going to get through this mess with Evan, we have to stay united. With Klein lurking, we can’t afford to slip up. There’s no room for mistakes.

“We are trying to protect the team,” I say carefully, not wanting to give too much but also knowing he needs something. “We took an oath too, one to guide you. Let us handle it.”

“That doesn’t make us one, Callan. It makes it us …and you three .”

I get what he’s saying. I really do. Normally, things aren’t this intense. The lines between our team and The Society are not always so blurred. But lately everything’s been chaotic. First, it was Evan’s fall, thenAvery crashed into our lives like a wrecking ball, tearing through the foundation we’ve spent years building.

On a typical day, we’re just college hockey players playing the game we love while living the dream. This isn’t normal for us; it’s damage control. And like it or not, it’s on me, Aidric, and Seb to keep the storm contained—to make sure no other Society member gets caught in the crossfire. Slade might not see it from the outside, but we’re the ones carrying the weight because it’s our job to do that.

I keep my tone low and my face unreadable, so I don’t come off like I’m judging him. “I get it, man. I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve felt that doubt.”

I shift slightly on the bench, eyes on him. “This is only my first season as council advisor, but I remember what it was like to watch from the outside and wonder what the hell’s really going on. But I can promise you, you don’t want to trade places with any of us. The secrets we keep are not about control or exclusion. They’re about protection—for all of you. We carry the heavy shit so you don’t have to.”

His jaw flexes, but I push on.

“Your payday is coming. We’re going to bring home the W at nationals, and after that, offers will start coming in. We’ll all have deals and contracts coming out of our asses. That’s the whole point of all of this, right?”

“But at what expense?” he snaps, suddenly on his feet.“Our lives? Our morals? A friend’s life?”

I stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing him gently back down on the bench.

“Hey.” My voice drops to a whisper, eyes scanning the room. “You gotta watch your tone. We’re not in The Chamber, and we shouldn’t even be talking about this here. But I am because I give a shit about you, Slade.”

He drags his hands down his face, frustration bleeding through.

“Look,” I say, bluntly.“What happened with Evan was a fuckup. A threat that went too far. It never should’ve happened.” I shake my head slowly. “We’re snakes, I’ll admit that. But we’re not slimy. We’re fixing it, quietly and carefully. No one’s asking you to do more than what you already signed up for when you became one of us.” I add a little enthusiasm to my tone, hoping to take him out of whatever pit he’s spiraled into. “So sit back. Reap the benefits. And play some fucking hockey.”

“All right,” he mutters with a shrug. “I guess it is what it is. I just hope you all know what you’re doing because I hear detectives are sniffing around everywhere. I’d hate to see Noah, or any of us, go down because that wouldn’t be worth it.”

I pat his shoulder a couple times. “We’ll be fine. Try not to stress yourself out.”

He chuckles, a light sparking in his eyes as he looks out over the ice. This is why we do it. The Society might do some fucked up shit, but if it keeps me on the ice, I’ll do it with my bare hands. Gladly.

We both stand, and I feel like I actually got through to him. Maybe not completely, but enough to take some weight off his chest.

“Now,” I say with a wide grin. “Let's get ready to kick some Cloverville ass so we can celebrate.”

“Thanks, Callan.” He slaps his hand into mine, and I pull him in for a firm chest bump.

“Anytime. Seriously. And if you wanna talk again, hit me up. Let’s just make it somewhere a little more appropriate next time.”

He nods, and I notice the tension in his shoulders has already eased.

This role comes with a hell of a lot of baggage, but moments like this make me feel like I made the right decision when I stepped up to council advisor.