ON ENEMY ICE

CHAPTER THREE

JACE'S POV

I choke back a gasp, my toes curling against the metal grate as the water continues to rise. It laps up over my shins, my knees, my thighs.

Every single inch the water covers turns into a screaming nightmare of fire. The cold of the water should numb it, but the salt prevents that, creating a violent, competing sensation of freezing cold and absolute heat. My muscles begin to spasm involuntarily. I fight to keep my legs steady, but the tremors are deep, shaking my entire frame.

Then the lights in the basement go out.Total darkness for a single heartbeat. Then, the four glass walls of the tank flicker to life. They aren't just walls anymore—they’re high-definition projection screens.

The stark, blinding white of the Ashford arena floods the small tank, the light bouncing off the dark, churning water.

"Ten seconds left on the clock,” the arena commentator’s voice booms through the specialized underwater speakers. The vibration is so intense it rattles straight through my ribs, echoing inside my skull. “Cole strips the puck from the Ashford captain... he’s got a breakaway!”

I try to close my eyes, but the light cuts right through my eyelids. I turn my head to the left, but the screen there is playing the exact same footage from a different angle. I look to the right—the same thing. The broadcast angle, the overhead camera, the slow-motion replay.

Everywhere I look, I am forced to watch my own failure.I watch Elian Cole. I watch the way his eyes track my left shoulder. I watch the exact millisecond where I hesitated, where my brain tripped over itself because I realized he knew exactly what I was going to do. On the screen, Elian’s stick sweeps in, perfectly clean, stripping the puck off my forehand.

The water reaches my chest now.

The agonizing burn hits the deepest cuts on my shoulder blades. A sharp, violent tremor wracks my body, and my breath hitches. It feels like someone is pressing a red-hot iron directly into my spine. My vision goes completely dark for a second, the edges fracturing into thousands of bright spots. I strain against the heavy iron cuffs, my shoulders screaming as I’m forced to pull my own weight upward just to keep my chest from collapsing against the glass.

"He shoots—he scores! The Northwood Eagles take the game!”

The recorded roar of the six thousand fans blasts through the speakers, vibrating through the water and straight into my skin. And then, the screen zooms in. It shows Elian. It shows him skating away, turning his head, and looking directly at me with that smirk. That perfect, infuriating, golden boy smile.The replay finishes. The screen goes black for three seconds. Then it starts again.

“Ten seconds left on the clock...”

The water is at my chin now. The cold, salted brine is lapping against my lower lip.

I have to strain upward, standing on the very tips of my toes, my calf muscles burning and cramping from the strain. The pain on my back is a distant, throbbing roar now, a total overload of my nervous system. If my legs give out, if I slip even a fraction from the exhaustion, my mouth will dip below the surface. I will swallow the burning, suffocating brine.

Outside the glass, Viktor doesn't even look at me. He stands with his back to the tank, his eyes fixed on the massive screens, watching the replay roll over, and over, and over again. He’s studying the footage like a businessman analyzing a bad investment.

"Three hours, Jace," Viktor's voice comes through the tank’s intercom, completely detached. "Learn to control the ice. Or learn to drown in your failures."He turns and walks out of the basement, the heavy steel door clicking shut behind him.

Left alone in the dark, surrounded by the blinding white light of the arena and the endless loop of Elian’s victory, I let the cold take over. I lock the agony away in the darkest corner of my chest. I stare at Elian’s face on the glass, his smirk reflecting in the rippling, bloody water around my chin.

He wants to play a game with me. He wants to see what’s behind the mask.

I let my eyes harden as the audio starts for the fiftieth time. I will survive this tank. I will survive my father.

Because I have a mission. A challenge. I want—No, I need to break something. Someone.

And I'm going to break Elian Cole until that perfect smile disappears forever.