Chapter 16
Jack
The hallway of the Administration Building stretched out before me like the throat of a tomb.
I walked. One foot in front of the other. Left boot. Right boot. The sound of my footsteps on the polished marble was a rhythmic accusation. Coward. Traitor. Coward. Traitor.
My hands were numb. Not from the cold—I hadn't stepped outside yet—but from the systemic shock that was shutting down my peripheral nervous system. I couldn't feel my fingertips. I couldn't feel the scar on my neck where Eloise had kissed me three hours ago.
I reached the heavy brass doors at the entrance. I pushed them open and stepped into the night.
The wind hit me like a physical blow, stripping the breath from my lungs. It was twenty degrees below zero.
Good. I deserved to freeze.
I made it three steps down the concrete stairs before my knees buckled.
I didn't fall. I caught myself on the iron railing, gripping the frozen metal with my bare hands until the cold burned like fire. I retched, my stomach heaving violently, but there was nothing to bring up. Just acid and shame.
I accept the terms.
The words echoed in my skull, louder than the wind.
I had sold her.
I had looked at the woman who had pulled me out of the dark, the woman who carried my scent and my secrets, and I had traded her for a check.
For your father, the rational part of my brain whispered. You did it for the Alpha. For his life.
You did it because you’re weak, the Wolf snarled back. You let the human male threaten us, and you rolled over and showed your belly.
The Wolf was right. I was a monster, but not the scary kind. I was the pathetic kind. The kind that broke things because he was too afraid to hold onto them.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped it.
I dialed the number.
"Jack?"
My mother’s voice. Tired. Worried.
"Is he okay?" I asked. My voice sounded dead. Like it was coming from a radio in another room.
"He’s... having a bad night," she sighed. "The pain is bad, Jack. The meds aren't touching it. We’re waiting on the approval for the new treatment cycle. The doctor said if the grant comes through tomorrow, we can start Monday."
"It’s coming," I said. "I handled it."
"You did?" Her voice cracked with relief. "Oh, thank God. Jack, how? That grant was stuck in committee for months."
"I pulled some strings," I lied. "Talked to the Dean. It’s done, Mom. He gets the treatment."
"You’re a good son, Jack," she wept. "You saved him. You know that? You saved him."
"Yeah," I whispered, looking up at the black sky where the moon was hidden behind thick clouds. "I saved him."
"I have to go, he’s calling for me. I love you, honey."
"Love you too."
I hung up.
I stared at the phone. I saved my father. And the price was my soul.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and started walking. Not to the Hive. I couldn't face the team yet. I couldn't face Silas and his knowing eyes.
I walked to the rink.
It was the only place that made sense. The scene of the crime. The place where I had first smelled her. The place where I was going to end it.
The arena was locked, but I had the Master Key. Captain’s privilege.
I let myself in. The air inside was stale and freezing. The darkness was absolute, save for the emergency lights casting long, skeletal shadows across the ice.
I didn't turn on the main lights. I didn't want to see my reflection in the glass.
I walked to the bench—the visitor's bench—and sat down. I didn't take off my coat. I just sat there in the dark, staring at the empty white expanse.
I waited.
I knew she would come.
Eloise wasn't the type to fade away. She wasn't the type to accept a breakup in a Dean’s office with a silent nod. She was a fighter. She had chased me into the woods. She had stitched me up when I was bleeding.
She would come for answers.
And I had to be ready to kill the hope in her eyes.
I sat there for an hour. Rehearsing the lies. Sharpening the knife.
Tell her she was a distraction. Tell her the sex was just biology. Tell her you got bored.
The door to the arena creaked open.
A slice of light from the hallway cut across the ice.
Footsteps. Light. Determined.
Eloise walked in.
She wasn't wearing her coat. Just that grey hoodie of mine and leggings. She was shivering, but she walked with her chin high.
She saw me sitting on the bench.
She didn't run to me. She walked to the edge of the boards and stopped. The plexiglass separated us.
"I knew you’d be here," she said. Her voice echoed in the empty cavern. It was steady, but brittle. Like thin ice.
"Go home, Eloise," I said, not looking at her. "It’s late."
"I don't have a home," she said. "My dorm is full of reminders of you. My father’s house is a prison. This rink is all I have."
She walked around the boards to the gate. She unlatched it and stepped onto the rubber matting of the bench area.
She stood in front of me.
I forced myself to look up.
She looked wrecked. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Her face was pale. But there was a fire in her gaze that terrified me. It was the look of someone who refused to believe the lie.
"He blackmailed you," she stated. "My father. He held your father’s life over your head. That’s coercion, Jack. It’s not a choice. We can fight it."
"I made a choice," I said coldly.
"No, you didn't," she argued, stepping closer. She reached out, her hand hovering near my knee. "You panicked. I get it. I panicked too. But we can fix this. We can go to the Ethics Board. We can record him."
"And while we’re playing detective," I snapped, "my father dies. The grant gets pulled tomorrow morning if I don't comply. Do you understand how cancer works, Eloise? It doesn't wait for the Ethics Board."
"So we find another way!" she shouted, her hand slamming onto my knee. "We raise the money! Crowdfunding! The Alumni! Silas can hack the accounts! We do something other than surrender!"
"There is no other way!" I roared, standing up abruptly.
She stumbled back, startled by the sudden violence of my movement.
I towered over her. I let the darkness bleed into my expression.
"You don't get it," I sneered, channeling every ounce of self-loathing into cruelty. "You live in a fairy tale, Princess. You think love conquers all? You think if we just hold hands and wish hard enough, the bad guys disappear?"
"I think we’re stronger together," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
"We’re not stronger," I said. "We’re weaker. Look at me, Eloise. Look at my season. I’m distracted. I’m sloppy. Coach was right. You’re poison to my game."
She flinched as if I’d slapped her.
"I’m... poison?"
"You’re a liability," I said, driving the knife in deeper. "I spent the last month babysitting you. Worrying about your feelings. Worrying about your dad. I’m the Captain of the Sentinels. I don't have time for this drama. I need to focus on the draft. I need to focus on my future. And you..."
I looked her up and down with a sneer of dismissal.
"You don't fit in that future."
"You’re lying," she whispered. A tear tracked down her cheek. "You told me you loved me. In the cabin. In your bed. You said I was your mate."
"I said a lot of things," I shrugged. "It’s called adrenaline. It’s called the Rut."
"Don't," she gasped.
"Let’s be honest," I said, stepping closer, forcing her to back up until she hit the wall of the locker tunnel. I caged her in, just like I had the first time. But this wasn't seductive. It was threatening.
"It was fun," I said, my voice low and cruel. "You were new. You were the Dean’s daughter. The forbidden fruit. It was a rush, taking you right under his nose. Breaking the pristine Ice Princess."
Her breath hitched. She stared at me with wide, horrified eyes.
"But the rush is gone," I lied. "And now? Now it’s just a headache. A headache that threatens my scholarship and my family."
"You knotted me," she sobbed. "You can't fake that. That’s biology. That’s the bond."
"Biology isn't love," I spat. "Dogs get stuck together too, Eloise. It doesn't mean they write poetry about it. It’s just friction and instinct."
That broke her.
I saw the light go out in her eyes. The fire was extinguished, replaced by a cold, hollow shock.
"You don't mean that," she whispered. But she didn't sound convinced anymore. She sounded destroyed.
"I do," I said. "I want you to leave. I want you to win your little medal and go away. I want my life back."
I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear.
"Go be perfect somewhere else, Mouse. I’m done playing with you."
I pulled back.
I waited for her to scream. I waited for her to slap me.
She didn't.
She just looked at me. It was a look of pure, unadulterated devastation. It was the look of a heart shattering into dust.
"Okay," she whispered.
She stepped around me.
She didn't run this time. She walked. Slowly. Like she was injured.
She walked out of the tunnel. Out of the rink.
I listened to her footsteps fade away.
Click. The door closed.
I was alone.
I stood there for a second. Ten seconds.
Then the scream tore its way out of my throat.
I spun around and punched the concrete wall.
Crack.
Pain exploded up my arm. My knuckles split. Blood splattered against the grey cinderblock.
I didn't stop. I hit it again. And again.
"Fuck!" I roared, the sound echoing off the ice. "Fuck! Fuck!"
I collapsed against the wall, sliding down until I hit the rubber floor. I cradled my bleeding hand against my chest, gasping for air.
The Wolf was howling. A sound of pure, mournful agony in my head. Mate gone. Mate broken. Why? Why?
"I had to," I sobbed to the empty room. "I had to."
I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms.
I was the Captain. I was the Alpha. I had saved my father. I had saved her career.
I had won.
So why did it feel like I had just died?
Eloise
I didn't feel the cold.
I walked back to my dorm in just the hoodie. The wind bit at my legs, my face, my hands, but I couldn't feel it.
I was numb.
Dogs get stuck together too.
The words looped in my mind like a broken record.
It was a rush. Taking you right under his nose.
I walked into the lobby of Halliwell Hall. The night guard waved at me. I didn't wave back.
I got into the elevator. I pressed the button for the fourth floor.
I watched the numbers climb. 2... 3... 4...
The elevator dinged. The doors opened.
I walked down the hall to room 402.
I opened the door.
Cami was asleep. The room was dark.
I walked to my desk.
The box was still there. The skates. The note from my mother.
Don't disappoint me again.
I picked up the tiny white skate. I ran my thumb over the blade. It was dull. Useless.
Just like me.
I had believed him. I had believed in the fairy tale. I had believed that I was special, that I was loved, that I was more than just a trophy to be polished and displayed.
But Jack was right. I was just a liability. I was just a distraction.
I put the skate down.
I walked to the mirror.
I looked at myself. My eyes were dead. My skin was pale. The hoodie—his hoodie—looked ridiculous on me now. Like a costume I didn't have the right to wear.
I grabbed the hem of the hoodie and ripped it off.
I stood there in my bra, shivering.
I grabbed a pair of scissors from my desk.
I picked up the hoodie from the floor.
I should cut it up. I should burn it. I should destroy every trace of him.
But I couldn't.
I dropped the scissors. I threw the hoodie into the back of my closet, burying it under a pile of laundry.
I walked to my bed and lay down.
I didn't cry. I had cried in the rink. I was done crying.
My father wanted a winner. My mother wanted a prodigy. Jack wanted me gone.
Fine.
I would give them what they wanted.
I closed my eyes.
I visualized the ice. The cold, hard, unfeeling ice.
I visualized my routine. The steps. The jumps. The turns.
I built a wall around my heart. Brick by brick. Layer by layer of frozen water.
Jack Sterling had broken me.
But he had made a mistake. He thought breaking me would make me go away.
He forgot what happens when you break ice.
It becomes sharp.
It becomes a weapon.
And in two days, at Nationals, I was going to cut the competition to ribbons.
I stared at the ceiling, the numbness settling into a cold, hard resolve.
You want the Ice Princess? I thought, a bitter smile touching my lips. You got her.