Chapter 5
Zayden
I watch as she storms off, her shoulders tense and her fists clenched at her sides.
She’s pissed.
For a second, I thought she was gonna throw her skates at me.
Jasper lets out a low whistle beside me. “Ooooh, the new girl has a spine.”
I don’t react.
“Is it just me, or is she hotter when she’s upset?” Cameron adds.
That does get a reaction out of me, even though I try not to show it.
It shouldn’t bother me.
But it does.
Because he’s right, and I hate that I saw it, too.
Those brown eyes stared me down, full of fire and agitation that made my chest clench in a way I didn’t like.
But I hate it more that he noticed, too.
He shouldn’t be looking at her like that.
He shouldn’t talk about her like that.
I push up from my seat and grab my bag with more force than necessary. I leave before I say or do something stupid. Cameron’s still laughing. He has no idea how close I was to breaking his jaw over a girl I don’t even know.
But for some reason, I feel like I do.
Jasper follows me, because we’re going to the same dorm suite. I don’t go outside. Instead, I take the underground route to Ravensbourne.
I scan my card as I reach the arched door. The light blinks green, and the heavy lock clicks open. Only legacy students have access. Fucked up? Yeah. But that’s Valcérre.
The tunnel is quiet. That’s why I take it. Most people use it only when it’s too cold outside or during heavy snowstorms. But for me? It’s about the silence and the space to think.
Jasper walks beside me as we pass the arched stones. We couldn’t be more different, even if we tried.
We are both mixed. His mum is Asian, and his dad is Valcérran. He has sharp features, high cheekbones, almond eyes, and golden skin. His tousled black hair looks like he rolled out of bed and still looks perfect.
People underestimate him. Too pretty, too casual, and too relaxed. But they forget Jasper Moon sees everything. He’s two steps ahead while they’re still stretching. One click on his computer and he will have everything he needs to destroy you.
Me, on the other hand, my mum is Black British, and my dad is also Valcérran. I have my mom’s brown skin that always makes me stand out on the ice and my dad’s jawline and broad shoulders.
Jasper and I have been friends since grade school. Born and raised in Valcérre. He’s the only one I let close. And even that, some days, is pushing it.
He hasn’t said anything since we left the lounge, but I can feel him watching me. He knows better than to say something when I don’t want to talk.
“So…are we gonna pretend that didn’t just happen?”
I guess not today.
I don’t slow my pace. “Nothing happened.”
“Right.” He snorts. “Nothing happened. Except you responded instead of shutting her down. Which, let’s be honest, is weird as hell.”
I don’t answer.
He drops it, like he always does.
That’s the thing about Jasper, he pushes just enough, then backs off. Knows when I need silence, when I’m not ready to admit what’s crawling under my skin.
Because the truth is? I should be over it. People don’t get under my skin. But I can still hear her voice, still remember how she looked at me with those fiery brown eyes.
And that pisses me off.
I don’t get distracted or waste my energy on things that don’t matter. My focus is simple: hockey and classes. That’s it.
Valcérre demands academic excellence from all its students, whether you’re the best player on the team or not. You keep up, or you fall behind—and I don’t fall behind.
Once I get to my dorm, I should be getting ready for class. So why the hell am I sitting here, staring at my computer and looking her up?
Luna Del Sol.
Her name is a fucking contradiction.
Moon of the sun.
Two things that don’t exist together but somehow fit her perfectly.
My fingers hover over the search bar for a second before I hit enter. A few competition results. Nothing too deep. That’s when I see it, an article about Lucien Kingley standing next to his wife, and her sister Luna.
That’s how I know her.
I scroll back to the image, staring at the girl I shouldn’t recognize, but somehow do. She probably doesn’t remember.
So, she’s not a legacy. Not a scholarship kid. She’s here because her brother-in-law is one of the wealthiest men in Paris.
I don’t even realize how long I’ve been staring until the door swings open behind me.
“Mate, seriously?” Jasper walks in, eyebrows raised as he tosses his bag on the couch. “I thought you didn’t do distractions.”
I drag a hand down my face. “I don’t.”
He crosses the room, glancing at my screen before I snap the lid of the laptop shut. “Luna Del Sol,” he says, with a low whistle. “You’re still thinking about her?”
I don’t answer.
Mostly because I don’t have a good excuse.
Jasper drops onto the arm of the chair beside me, studying me with the kind of look only your oldest friend can pull off. I rub the back of my neck. The silence stretches.
“Just wanted to know who I was dealing with.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And?”
“Nothing.” I stand and head to the closet to change out of my sweats and into my uniform. By the time I’m done, Jasper’s already waiting by the door, scrolling through something on his phone like he’s not paying attention.
But I know better.
“You good?” he asks without looking up.
“Let’s go.”
He follows me out without pressing, and we cut through the underground tunnel toward the main campus. Stone archways and vaulted ceilings line the walls, the kind that hold secrets.
I keep telling myself I’m over it. It’s been three years since the last time I saw her, and she doesn’t matter. But when we round the last corner and head up the stairs that lead to the academic building, something shifts.
Like gravity just tilted and the air’s thicker somehow. And then it hits me, mint with something soft and sweet underneath.
The same smell I caught earlier when she leaned too close to the table. Even after hours of training, she still smelled like that. Like winter and summer. The same scent that’d been haunting me for years.
And there she is.
Standing just outside a classroom, her back turned, one hand adjusting the strap of her black tote bag, the other tucking a loose braid behind her ear as she laughs at something someone says.
I slow without meaning to.
Her presence hits me before my brain catches up, like I’ve stepped into her orbit again and forgot how to breathe.
Jasper notices. “Damn, what is happening?”
I don’t respond.
He grins like he already knows something I don’t. “I’ve never seen you like this. Ever.” Jasper nudges me with his elbow. “You barely look at people, Z. Let alone burn holes in the back of their heads.”
“I’m not—”
“Staring? Sure you’re not.” He glances back toward Luna. “I mean, I get it. She’s hot.”
The same heat from earlier that almost made me break Cameron’s nose comes roaring back into my chest. It burns hotter this time, because this is Jasper, and I don’t want him to look at her like that.
“Drop it,” I say with the kind of tone that should make it crystal fucking clear that she’s off-limits.
“Oh shit, I knew it. You like her, like her.” Jasper grins like he just cracked one of his codes. “You think I didn’t see the look you gave Cam earlier, like you were ready to beat the shit out of him.”
“I don’t like anyone.”
“Except me, right?”
“I tolerate you, that’s different.”
He laughs, shoving his hand into his pocket, because he already knows the truth. I love him more than my own blood, and I would take a bullet for him without a second thought. Not that I’d ever say that out loud.
We’re almost walking past her when Luna turns around, and our eyes lock.
Just like before, the world goes quiet.
Her cold stare pins me in place. Then she storms off like I never existed, leaving a chill behind.
Jasper jogs a step ahead, half-turned toward me. “She hates you. Like, full-throttle hate. That’s kind of impressive.”
I ignore him.
Let her hate me. It’s better than whatever the fuck this is. The pull, the ache, and the way she’s already under my skin. Better than the heat that flares in my chest when someone else looks at her.
Because I can’t afford it.