It was already past midnight in Vesperridge Academy.
The entire campus was asleep.
The cold air of the rink was dense and biting to the skin.
Every breath turned into a thick cloud of white vapor in the freezing atmosphere.
Luciano was sitting on the bench adjusting his skate.
His eyes looked around the ice rink like a predator looking over his kingdom.
The world outside this arena was filled with pressure, expectations, and the suffocating shadow of his father, but here, he was supposed to be the master.
Here he is supposed to be at peace
Yet, tonight, his sanctuary felt compromised.
His mind refused to settle.
All because of because of Roman Milkov.
His mind went over the chaotic event of the day.
The way Roman the new boy snatched the puck effortlessly from him, while dancing around in circles around him. whispering mockery into his ears.
The memory made his stomach twist.
Worse still was the memory of the locker room saga.
Luciano’s skin burned as he remembered the solid weight of Roman’s body pinning him against the cold metal, the terrifying strength in those large hands, and the way the boy had professed his feelings in a hot, demeaning whisper.
When he remembered all these things, the cold air seemed to grow even colder.
He shuddered in the cold.
He gritted his teeth in bitterness.
His hands clamped to his stick more tightly.
“I am the captain,” he whispered to the empty arena, his voice a sharp hiss.
“I am the one who rules here.”
He stood up and began to skate.
The blades of his skates scraped softly against the ice as he stepped onto the rink.
The silence of the night acts as an adrenaline propelling him forward, giving him energy.
Immediately, his body relaxed.
The familiar sensation washed over him.
The smooth ice under his skate.
The cold air moving past him caressing his body.
This is his kingdom.
This is where he felt alive.
This is where he rules.
And no peasant boy is going to get the best of him.
He spread out his hands as to welcome the cool air rushing past him as he skated the length of the ice.
His skates cut across the ice with effortless speed.
His blond hair shifted as he accelerated.
Faster.
He is here in the silence of the night and the cold of the ice to recollect himself.
Ever since Roman entered Vesperridge Academy, Luciano has not been himself.
It seems as if the boy exists to rattle him, to turn his life upside down.
Dropping a puck onto the ice, Luciano positioned his stick and struck it with a fierce swing. Find the original chapter at g.com.
It bounced with a loud echo in the empty rink.
The sounds hitting off the thick plexiglass.
He continued skating around the rink hitting the puck whenever he got to it until his head floated and his mind felt empty and light.
At least for a little while.
*******
In Roman’s room he was tossing endlessly on his bed.
His eyes burned.
There was no tinge of sleep in them.
The memory of the day played over his mind.
The ice rink, Luciano, his fall, the coach, the team players, the locker room saga—all of them swirled around his head like a storm.
But only one name, only one face stood out.
Luciano Anderson.
He could still vividly recall the distinct scent of ice and pine that had rolled off Luciano’s skin when he had buried his face into the captain’s neck.
His emerald blue eyes smirking, threatening, growling, frowning, teasing but never smiling.
Roman has never seen the so-called captain of the Vesperridge wolves smile since he joined the team.
The realization bothered him more than it should have.
For someone who supposedly had everything, Luciano looked strangely unhappy.
He was rich.
Popular.
Talented.Respected.
Yet he always carry this aura of loneliness.
Roman shrugged his face, he should not be worried about Luciano now.
He probably hates him.
The feeling was likely mutual.
Well…Almost mutual.
He should be worried about himself first.
The way he fell on the ice in an undignified manner after grabbing the puck in front Luciano, Coach Ferdinand and other players.
He was going to show Luciano his raw skill as a rural boy from Ashford and brag but the ice.
But the skate had other plans.
The gear felt too heavy and the ice too smooth.
He was struggling since the beginning of the practice and he thought he was getting the drill before he went to dribble Luciano.
Just when he thought he had gotten perfect control of the puck, his steel blade had caught a groove, his legs had spluttered, and he had toppled over his own skates.
Worse Luciano was right there staring at him with those murderous gazes that said.
‘Don’t die yet, I haven’t killed you myself.’
Roman shook his head.
He won’t allow that to happen again.
He had to practice harder until his movement became seamless and smooth on the ice.
Roman jumped up from the bed.
The room was completely dark.
A single ray of the moonlight from outside the window cast a line of glow in his face and highliting the determined glow in his blue eyes.
He looked across the room.
For once, his strange roommate looked completely normal.
His glass rested on the table.
He stood up and tiptoed in order not to wake him up.
He opened his closet grabbed his gears, skating shoes and hockey stick.
He shut the door back.
He tiptoed to the door not wanting to wake his roommate up.
He opened the door, Johnny shifted slightly.
Roman froze.
His heart nearly stopped.
After a few seconds, Johnny continued snoring.
Roman released a breath.
Then he quietly left. and closed it quietly.
Then he sneaked out into the cold night.
*****
Roman was going to the ice rink.
This is already past midnight most of the students are already in their bed fast asleep.
He is wants to practice balancing and stabilizing his body on ice rink
The journey to the rink seemed to last forever.
Roman walked quietly and briskly hoping he would not run into the guards or anyone that could cause trouble for him for being out past curfew time.
He had access to the rink.
The coach gave him a smart card he can use to enter the rink anytime he likes.
This card is only given to the top players of all teams.
Giving him this card shows how important he is to the Vesperridge wolves.
When he got to the ice arena, he slid his car on the access door.
It blinked twice and opened.
Roman was surprised to see the light on.
His eyebrows rose.
“That’s strange.”
Had someone forgotten to switch them off?
When he stepped down the aisle he noticed he was not alone, a sharp sound echoed through the empty arena.
Skrrrrt.
And the sound of a puck bouncing up and down the ice echoed in the arena.
His heart beat faster as he started walking more cautiously.
He walked until the ice was in full view then he stopped.
Then he saw him.
His golden blonde hair flying in the wind.
His birthday moved with unbelievable grace.
Every turn looked effortless.
Every stride looked perfect.
Body twisted at the side as he skated at full speed trying to manoeuvre the puck.
He looked like the god of winter and ice itself—beautiful, dangerous, and completely untouchable.
Then suddenly he stopped, his shoulder tensed as if he felt the change in air pressure.
He turned rapidly and immediately Roman gasped as deep green eyes locked into his blue eyes.