Icebound Vows

CHAPTER 4 – Behind Closed Doors

POV: Ryker Voss

I dropped my heavy hockey bag onto the passenger seat of my car, but instead of turning the key in the ignition, I just sat there staring at the leather steering wheel while the image of Elara running out of the cafeteria covered in sticky soda kept flashing through my mind, and it pissed me off because I shouldn't care what my sister does to her.

The guys from the team were already honking their horns, shouting out their windows as they drove off to the frat house for our weekly post-practice celebration, but I felt off with an annoying frustration that I could not shake off, no matter how much I tried to tell myself she brought this entire mess on herself by coming to our penthouse with those forged documents.

I got out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut so hard the sound echoed across the pavement, I walked away from the athletic parking lot, my feet leading me past the university buildings, the crowded student center until I reached the abandoned performing arts center near the far edge of the campus where nobody ever went after classes ended.

I pushed the heavy front doors open, stepping into the quiet hallway just to get away from the noise of the school and the teammates who kept asking me about my fake fiancée, but as I walked down the dim corridor, the faint sound of music coming from the basement stairs made me stop in my tracks.

I followed the sound down the passage, my sneakers making no noise on the tiles until I reached an old ballet studio at the very end of the hall, and when I looked through the small glass window of the door, I saw Elara moving across the worn wooden floor completely alone, without a single soul around to torment her.

She was wearing a pair of pink slippers that looked brand new, and every single turn and jump she made looked like she was throwing all the heavy pain, fear, and humiliation my sister had caused her straight into the empty room, her movements completely defying the fragile image she usually presented when she was scrubbing our floors.

The girl I had spent days mocking and treating like a common maid suddenly looked completely different in the soft light of the studio, appearing elegant, powerful, and entirely untouchable as she spun across the floor without ever noticing me watching her from the dark hallway, and my throat went completely dry because I could not reconcile this breathtaking dancer with the quiet girl sleeping in our basement.

She leaped through the air with absolute precision, her face flushed and her eyes fixed on the cracked mirror on the wall, and for several minutes, I couldn't even force myself to blink or step away from the window because her grace was completely captivating, completely shattering the wall of indifference I had built up since she arrived in New York.

"Ryker, what the hell are you doing down here in the dark?" Marcus asked, his footsteps echoing loudly down the corridor as he approached the doors, making me jump slightly and step back into the shadows so he wouldn't see what I was looking at.

"Keep your voice down, Marcus, I was just looking for a quiet place to think before we head out to the house," I said quickly, grabbing his shoulder and turning him back toward the main exit before he could get any closer to the window and see her dancing inside.

"The guys are already heading over to the frat house for the big post-practice party, since you are the team captain, everyone is waiting for you to arrive with the drinks and the music," Marcus said, looking at me with a confused expression as we walked out into the cool evening air, his eyes scanning my face as if he were trying to read my thoughts.

"I'm not going to the party tonight, Marcus, you can just tell the team to start drinking without me, you can handle the captain duties for the evening," I replied, slinging my sports bag over my shoulder and walking toward my car without giving him any real explanation because I didn't want to explain why a random ballerina was messing with my head.

"Are you serious right now, you haven't skipped a single team party all season, Ryker, and the guys are going to think something is seriously wrong with you," Marcus said, running a hand through his hair and staring at me like I had lost my mind.

"The coach even said you looked totally distracted today, missing checks you usually make in your sleep, and now you're backing out on the guys just to go sit in your penthouse all night."

"I just have some family stuff to take care of for my mother, Marcus, just drop the attitude, go enjoy the beer, and tell the team I'll see them at morning practice tomorrow," I muttered, opening my car door and sliding into the driver's seat before he could ask me any more questions that I didn't want to answer myself.

I drove back to the mansion in complete silence, ignoring the incoming text messages from my teammates, my mind completely consumed by the image of her spinning in that empty room, even I didn't understand why a random girl's ballet movements were suddenly occupying my thoughts this much, making my chest tighten with every mile I drove closer to home.

When I entered the penthouse, the living room was completely quiet, the lights low, but as I walked past the basement stairs, I heard the faint sound of the front door closing outside, signaling that Elara had finally returned from the campus after walking all the way from the subway station.

I stood near the top of the stairs, listening to her quiet, exhausted footsteps move down the hallway toward her small room beside the laundry, the memory of her powerful, elegant movements in the studio made the basement quarters look even more insulting than before, though I forced myself to walk away and head to my own bedroom before my mother noticed I was standing there.

Outside the gates of the campus, a stranger standing behind a parked van across the street quietly lowered a black phone after taking several photographs of Elara as she walked toward the subway station, the camera capturing her small figure under the streetlights. The masked figure scrolled through the images on the screen, verifying that her face was completely visible in the photographs, and immediately forwarded the files to an unlisted number with a short text message.

“She’s with the Voss family now.”