Claimed by the Ice Heir

Sharded ice

The chill at the Mercer Winter Complex didn't compare to the cold outside. Not only did it bite your skin, it had infiltrated your bones, bringing with it the sharp, metallic flavor of shaved ice, sweat of old, and power.

Seated high in the empty bleachers and hugging my weighty pre-law book into my lap, I was snugly wrapped in my wool coat. I was to finish work for a seminar on administrative law. But my eyes refused to move off the stark white rink down below, and I couldn't get them to.

The Nordic Elite University hockey team skated, navy and silver jerseys swirling in a murky rainstorm of blue and silver..

At the very heart of the turmoil was Kaelen Mercer.

He was more than just a hockey player, he was a hockey leader. He walked in an unholy manner, a deadly predator in his prime. Once he had the puck in his possession, everything that was happening on the ice changed. Defenders were pushed aside with ease, as his wide, six-foot-three frame ran with an air of menace that made them retreat or propel them against the boards.

There was a whistle, a loud whistle, indicating a drill. Kaelen pulled off his helmet and flung his dark, damp, and sweaty hair back. The edge of his hard jaw and the dark stubble that framed his mouth made him stand out even in the shadows, from 50 feet behind the stands.

A knot, a dense, familiar one, knotted around my gut, a stew of old simmering anger and an unwanted, crappy flush of heat under my skin.

Look away, I told myself. Open the book. Read chapter four.

I couldn't.

The fact that I kept looking at Kaelen and saying, "Oh, that's just going to be an international draft star," wasn't what was on my mind. I went to high school. I watched the haughty boy step to the perimeter of the school yard, pointing at my ratty winter boots and talking to his rich buddies. I heard the whispers that always began after he looked at me, the embarrassed giggles in the hallways, the silent rejection that left me feeling all alone during lunch hours and forced to hide in the library to endure.

When I was still so peaceful, he stole my peace! Now, with my scholarship on the balance of a knife, he was at it again, threatening my future.

The team took a water break with their backs to me on the benches below. Kaelen was leaning against the glass boards and drinking from a water bottle with his wide shoulders rising and falling with heavy and rhythmic breathing.

"Enjoying the view, Goldie?"

I jumped when I heard the sudden voice of a smooth voice just next to me. I turned my head to see my brother, Callan, leaning up against the handrail of the stairs.

He wore the latest designer fashion, a crisp beige trench coat over a designer sweater and his ash-blonde hair perfectly combed. He seemed the perfect big brother, but there was a strange tension that arose in this study all last night as it suddenly shifted, dropping from a warm summer night to cold winter.

I said, “I’m waiting for his practice to be over, so that we can complete his study log.” Callan, what are you doing here?

Then Callan took the path down the aisle, and sat on the cold metal bench two steps down from me. His eyes were not on me, but on Kaelen, who was down on the ice.

Callan said quietly, "Checking on my best friend. But there was a strange brittle edge to his voice. "Between you and my little sister, yesterday it seemed like it was quite serious in the study wing.

I said, "Kaelen was just being himself.I had my pulse racing, and lied. I couldn't tell Callan about Torstein intervening, or Kaelen's mean threats, or how his fingers had felt around my wrist like a wildfire. Callan respected Kaelen's status, and would only advise me to tolerate it. He's not easy to deal with but I take care of him.

Callan slowly turned his head to look at me, his eyes, which were light brown with a hint of blue, were dull. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Good, because Kaelen can be . . . Dangerous, Goldie. When he wants something, he gets it, no matter what sacrifices are made in the process. Just remember who your real family is, okay? Keep your focus on the degree, don't let him take you on his journey.

I was like, "Oh, come on, it's he who brought Kaelen into my world.

No one was going to pull me anywhere," I said boldly, clenching my book.

Then, on the ice, there was a loud horn that meant it was time to end practice. The players started to make their way off the ice to the locker rooms. However, Kaelen didn't make it to the showers.

Instead, he found his way easily toward the exit gate, which led straight up to the lower bleachers. He moved from the ice to the rubber mats where his skates rang out and started to ascend the metal stairs.

Step by step.

He didn't glance Callan's way. His cold, blue eyes pierced my feeble lights and his gaze was deadly. His neck was sweating, that added a level of ruthlessness and danger to his sharp face.

Callan stood, and his stance immediately became rigid, as Kaelen came to a stop three steps down from where I sat.

“Callan,” Kaelen replied, and his voice was gravelly and deep, and his face was expressionless, and it gave me a sudden, traitorous shiver.

Callan's smile reassured him, and he could relax his jaw, but his smile was disarming. I told Goldie not to bother her before the scouts come next week, it's great practice out there.

Kaelen didn't pay any attention to Callan. He ascended another step, bringing us a little closer until the chill from his sodden jersey smacked my face. She's not a distraction," Kaelen said in a harsh, dangerous whisper that I alone could hear. "She's my tutor."

He came up to me, and, snapping my pre-law textbook out of my hands like a puppet.

I protested, "Hey." I reached for it.

Kaelen then turned the book to the fourth chapter and tossed a crumpled piece of gold-embossed paper between the pages and then closed the book and pushed it back into my lap.

“Ooops, Goldie, There is no study hall tonight,” Kaelen whispered near my ear, pressing his hot breath into my chilly skin. You're invited to my Mercer media gala tonight. My dad wants to meet the girl keeping his star player afloat.

A cold fury erupted in my chest and I gasped. I'm not headed anywhere with you, Mercer. I'm not your date, I'm your tutor!

Kaelen slowly withdrew, his lips curling into that black and wicked smirk that made my blood boil.

“Look at the invite, Goldie,” he whispered, turning his head towards Callan, who had gone as white as a sheet. However, your brother has already confirmed whether you’re coming or not.