Nobody expected Jace to skate out again.
Not after yesterday.
Not with the bruise still dark on his face.
Not with Marvin acting like the rink belonged to him.
But there he was.
Quiet. Focused. Skates cutting the ice like he’d been born on it. His jersey wasn’t the gleaming captain’s one like Marvin’s, but somehow Jace looked more dangerous. His eyes weren’t angry. They weren’t tender. They were something else entirely sharp, unreadable, a storm that had finally made up its mind.
Cass stood with the crowd, her heart beating too loudly in her chest. Lena gripped her arm, whispering, “Cass, he looks terrifying.”
And he did.
But not in a way that made her afraid.
In a way that made her feel something she didn’t have a name for.
The whistle blew and everything exploded into motion.
