Chapter 14
Luna
I’ve been pushing myself all week as Nico and I get ready for the showcase tomorrow. My legs burn, my lungs are tight, but I don’t stop. Not with the Continental qualifier on the line. Not when every single person in this program is just waiting for me to slip.
Nico holds out his hands, and I step into them. Something about us has started to sync, not just physically, but rhythmically.
We go for another lift, and it goes smoothly, no wobble. It’s perfect, but not the same as when I do it with Zayden.
I shake the thought away like it’s sweat.
Focus, Luna. Stay sharp.
We land the sequence. Nico lets go. I take a deep breath.
“Again!” Coach yells from across the rink.
I nod, even though my whole body wants to scream no.
We keep going. Over and over. Jumps. Spins. Lifts. Corrections. Adjustments.
We’ve been perfecting our routine, and Coach gives us a nod of approval.
“You’re both done for today.” She claps her hands once. “Rest tonight,” she adds. “Be ready tomorrow.”
Then her gaze narrows on me.
“Whatever’s in your head, Del Sol, get rid of it before you step on the ice tomorrow.”
I freeze for a beat.
Then nod.
“Yes, Coach.”
She walks off without another word.
Nico skates away toward the benches. I follow slowly and drop down on the bench.
My phone buzzes.
My heart leaps before I can stop it, but it’s just a weather alert. I sigh, dragging a towel across the back of my neck.
Still no message.
No location.
No explanation.
No Zayden.
After we both received the message again last time, I demanded he tell me what he knows. He took my number and promised he would send me a location for us to meet and talk. He hasn’t, but we’ve both been busy, me getting ready for my showcase and him getting ready for his first game of the season.
“You okay?” Nico asks.
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just…tired.”
He nods once, like he gets it. “You were great today,” he says. “We’ve got this.”
I want to believe him. I really do.
“Thanks,” I say, forcing a small smile. “You too.”
He nudges my shoulder gently as he stands. “Go rest. Tomorrow, we’ll destroy them.”
I huff out a quiet laugh, even though my chest is tight. Because no matter how many hours I train, no matter how perfect I get the routine, there’s still this quiet part of me that whispers, You don’t belong here.
You’re just pretending.
And one wrong step will prove them all right.
I head back to my dorm and take a quick shower. I sit on my bed, barely feeling the heat from the radiator in the corner.
Everything aches.
I stare at my phone for a long second. Then I tap the call button.
It’s late in Paris, but she picks up on the second ring.
“Luna.” Rylee’s face fills the screen.
“Hi.” Seeing her face brings a small smile to mine and warmth into my chest.
“You okay?” she asks, already frowning.
“I’m fine. I’m just…tired.”
Her smile fades. “You’ve been saying that for a week.”
“The showcase is tomorrow, and I need to qualify for the Continental round.” I look down at my knees, picking at the edge of my blanket.
“You will. You’ve been training like a maniac. And you’re amazing, Luna.”
I close my eyes. “I don’t feel good enough. Not here. Not lately.”
“Listen, baby girl, I could go on all night about how amazing you are, how talented, how driven, but you need to start believing it for yourself. Because you’re incredible.”
I just nod, because if I open my mouth, I might cry, and I don’t want to cry.
“Now, go make yourself some chamomile tea and rest. Because tomorrow? You’re gonna be amazing. I already know it.”
“Thank you.” I smile.
“Love you, sis.”
“Love you, too.”
We hang up, and I sit there in the quiet, phone still in my hand, blanket bunched in my lap. Talking to my sister usually helps. But tonight, I need more.
That familiar tightness is still there, just under my ribs, where all the doubt lives. The ache that even Rylee’s voice can’t quiet.
So I stand, pull on my boots, and grab my skates before slipping out of the dorm. The reasonable part of my brain tells me it’s a bad idea, but I ignore it.
The second I step inside the Shadow Rink, the air goes still. Like it knows something I don’t.
I shouldn’t be here. The messages and the warnings should scare me, but somehow, it’s the only place I can breathe.
Dropping my bag on the floor, I sit.
“You shouldn’t be here.” The familiar voice comes from behind me.
I turn to find Zayden standing there.
“I couldn’t sleep and needed something to clear my head. I didn’t know I had a stalker.”
He watches me with that guarded expression, like he’s deciding whether saying something is worth the effort.
“It’s not safe here,” he finally says.
“So why are you here, then?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Because I knew you’d be here.” He looks away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck like he didn’t mean to say it.
“No more games, Zayden. You know something, and you’re going to tell me.” I step closer to him; his broody, guarded expression doesn’t scare me.
He exhales through his nose. “Not here.”
“Then where? Last time you said you were gonna send me a location, but you never did.”
“Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I grab my bag and follow him outside.
And of course, he doesn’t answer.
Ugh, I fucking hate this guy.
I follow him to an underground parking lot, and we stop in front of his Jeep. He grabs my bag and throws it in the back before opening the door for me to get in.
The drive is quiet. Outside, the road winds higher into the snowy mountains. It’s dark, the only light coming from the high beams of his car. Snow swirls in front of the dashboard.
Zayden is quiet, eyes fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other holding the gear shift.
No music, just the occasional swish…swish of the wipers and the soft hum of the engine. He’s completely at home in the silence, like it’s a part of him.
I fucking hate it.
Growing up, I never liked the quiet; it just reminded me how alone I was. I’d leave the TV on, or music, or anything with voices, just to feel like someone else was there. Something to fill the empty spaces.
I try not to stare, but the dashboard lights are soft, and they hit him just right. His locs are pulled back, a few strands slipping free, brushing against his cheekbone. His lips are pressed together as he focuses on the road, and I hate how I notice it. I hate the guy, but he’s fucking beautiful.
“You better not be kidnapping me,” I mutter, mostly to myself. “If you’re planning on murdering me before my showcase, I’ll haunt your ass forever.”
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye again, and the corner of his mouth twitches slightly.
Still ridiculously attractive.
I frown at the window and tell myself I’m just bored. It’s dark, and I’m tired. And yeah, maybe I’m noticing how his hands look on the steering wheel, but that doesn’t mean anything.
He glances at me just once, and the amused look in his eyes sends butterflies to my stomach.
About twenty minutes into the drive, we pull into a clearing tucked between snow-covered pine trees.
The headlights catch a stone and timber cabin in front of us. Zayden kills the engine. Neither of us moves at first.
“Wait here,” he says before getting out.
Of course, I ignore him, pushing the door open and stepping out of the car. The cold punches straight through my hoodie.
“I told you to wait.” He shakes his head as we walk toward the porch, my boots sinking into the snow.
“Since when do I take orders from you?”
He glances at me over his shoulder with an exasperated look before keying in a code and pushing the door open, stepping aside to let me walk in first.
I slowly spin around as I take it in. Vaulted ceilings, exposed beams, and a massive stone fireplace. Black-and-white framed photos line the walls, and there’s a shelf full of trophies and medals.
The inside of the cabin is beautiful, but it’s freezing.
“Is this your cabin?”
Zayden crouches in front of the fireplace, stacks a few logs, and lights a match. The wood cracks as the fire catches. Flames curl upward, throwing long shadows against the stone as the heat builds slowly.
“It was my family’s,” he says, glancing up at me. “But it’s been passed down to me. Now it’s mine.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So, is this where you bring all the girls?”
Slowly, he rises from the floor, his eyes never leaving mine as he takes a small step toward me. “I’ve never brought anyone up here, not even Jasper.”
I shift my weight slightly, trying to appear casual and like the fact that I’m the first girl he brought up here doesn’t make me feel kinda special.
He’s still looking at me, and the intensity in his eyes causes my cheeks to turn hot.
After a moment, he nods toward a dark hallway. And I stupidly follow him. For all I know, he’s taking me to his dungeon.
We reach a door, and he opens it. There’s a stone staircase that leads down into darkness.
I wait for my fight or flight instinct to kick in, but it never comes.
For some crazy reason I don’t understand, I trust this guy.
If I’m wrong and I die tonight, I’ll be so pissed at myself for trusting my instinct.
The deeper we go, the colder it gets. This should be a clue, right? That there’s a freezer down here where he keeps his dead bodies. Then I see it, and I stop breathing.
A rink.