Chapter 3
1051 Words
AUTHOR’S POV
The remainder of the second period unfolded like a war disguised as a hockey game.
Every shift on the ice grew more brutal.
Every collision carried years of resentment.
The referees handed out penalties one after another, but neither team seemed interested in restraint anymore.
Octavia kept snapping photographs, the shutter of her camera clicking almost continuously.
She caught a defenseman diving to block a slap shot.
A goalie stretching across the crease to make an impossible save.
A pair of players crashing into the boards hard enough to crack one of the advertisement panels.
Then her lens found Kael again.
He had just stepped back onto the ice after serving a two-minute penalty for roughing.
His breathing was steady.
His face remained unreadable.
If anyone had told her this man was feeling pressure in front of twenty thousand screaming fans, she never would have believed it.
"He doesn't even sweat," Maya murmured.
"He does."
"No, seriously."
"He looks like someone carved him out of stone."
Octavia didn't answer.
She zoomed in.
Kael's silver eyes swept over the rink, reading every movement before it happened.
His teammates instinctively adjusted their positions whenever he barked a short command.
"Left."
The winger shifted.
"Back."
The defenseman retreated.
"Now."
The puck changed direction.
Everything happened with military precision.
"He controls the whole team," Octavia whispered.
Maya smirked.
"Now you're complimenting him."
"I'm observing."
"Mm-hmm."
"You are impossible."
"So I've been told."
The horn sounded.
Only five minutes remained in the period.
The score was tied.
Two to two.
The crowd refused to sit down.
Damien won possession near center ice.
He accelerated with explosive speed, weaving around two defenders before cutting toward the net.
The Crimson supporters were already on their feet.
"Go! Go!"
"He has an opening!"
Octavia instinctively followed him through her camera.
Then—
Kael intercepted.
Not by stealing the puck.
By planting himself directly in Damien's path.
Damien tried to slip around him.
Kael anticipated the move.
Their shoulders collided.
The impact echoed through the arena.
Damien stumbled but stayed upright.
Instead of backing away, he swung his stick.
It struck Kael across the forearm.
The sharp crack was audible even from the media section.
A collective gasp spread through the crowd.
"What the hell?"
Maya exclaimed.
The referee's whistle screamed.
Too late.
Kael finally reacted.
He grabbed Damien by the front of his jersey.
The gloves hit the ice.
The arena exploded.
"They're fighting!"
Fans leaped to their feet.
The noise became deafening.
Damien threw the first punch.
Kael ducked.
The second connected with Kael's shoulder instead of his jaw.
Kael answered with one clean right hook.
Damien staggered backward.
Another punch.
Then another.
The officials rushed toward them.
Players from both benches poured onto the ice.
Shouting filled the arena.
Octavia's finger never left the shutter button.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Every photograph captured raw emotion.
Damien's fury.
Kael's icy focus.
The chaos surrounding them.
After nearly a minute, the officials finally separated the two Alpha heirs.
Damien struggled against the referees.
"I'm not finished!"
Kael simply wiped a thin line of blood from the corner of his mouth.
His expression hadn't changed.
It somehow irritated Damien even more.
"You think you've won?" Damien shouted across the ice.
Kael answered without raising his voice.
"The game isn't over."
"No."
Damien's smile slowly returned.
"It isn't."
Something about the way he said it made Octavia's stomach twist.
It sounded less like a promise about hockey...
And more like a threat.
...
The second period ended with both captains escorted to their respective locker rooms.
The arena buzzed with excitement during intermission.
Sports analysts filled the giant screens, replaying the fight from every possible angle.
"Clean punch."
"Damien clearly started it."
"Draven barely lost his composure."
"This rivalry has officially become personal."
Students debated loudly in every aisle.
Some praised Kael.
Others defended Damien.
Most simply enjoyed the spectacle.
Maya stretched her arms.
"I'm getting food."
"I'll come."
"You sure?"
"I need some air."
The concourse surrounding the arena was packed.
The smell of popcorn, grilled burgers, and coffee mixed with the crisp scent drifting in every time the entrance doors opened.
Octavia finally lowered her camera.
"My hands hurt."
"You've taken almost six hundred photos."
"I have?"
"You've been working nonstop."
"I didn't notice."
"You also haven't stopped looking for Number Nine."
Octavia sighed.
"Can we stop talking about him?"
Maya laughed.
"You brought him up first."
"I brought up hockey."
"Which somehow always becomes Kael."
Octavia opened her mouth to argue.
Instead, she froze.
Several feet ahead...
Damien stood outside the restricted players' corridor.
His jersey had been replaced with a dark training jacket.
A bruise was already forming along his jaw.
He wasn't alone.
Three older men wearing expensive black coats surrounded him.
None wore university credentials.
None looked like league officials.
Their posture immediately caught Octavia's attention.
Powerful.
Rigid.
Military.
One of them handed Damien a small black envelope.
The oldest spoke quietly.
"You've embarrassed the Council enough."
Damien clenched his jaw.
"He provoked me."
"We don't care."
"The girl."
Another man interrupted.
"Has she said anything?"
Octavia's pulse quickened.
The girl?
Damien shook his head.
"She doesn't know."
"Make certain it stays that way."
"And the photographs?"
"They'll be dealt with."
Octavia frowned.
Photographs?
Instinct took over.
She quietly lifted her camera.
Adjusted the zoom.
Focused through the crowd.
Click.
One photograph.
Click.
Another.
The older men hadn't noticed.
Damien accepted the envelope before slipping it inside his jacket.
"We'll contact you again."
The three strangers walked away toward a private exit.
Octavia lowered her camera slowly.
"What are you looking at?"
Maya asked, balancing two cups of coffee.
"I..."
Octavia stared after the disappearing men.
"...I think I just photographed something I wasn't supposed to see."
Before Maya could ask another question...
A cold sensation crawled across the back of Octavia's neck.
The unmistakable feeling that someone was watching her.
She turned.
Across the crowded concourse, beyond dozens of students and security officers...
Kael Draven had just stepped out of the locker-room corridor.
His silver eyes were fixed directly on her.
Then, without a word, his gaze shifted to the camera hanging around her neck.
The calm expression he'd worn all evening disappeared.
For the first time, genuine alarm flashed across his face.
- Writer
