2
1171 Words
The third player, Number 19, removes his helmet with a sigh, revealing damp tousled dark-brown hair and a soft frown between his thick brows.
Jude and Preston’s fight filters to the background as the view of the Vipers’ captain and center grips my throat with invisible hands.
And the worst part? This isn’t the first time he’s stolen my attention.
For some reason, I’ve often found my eyes unconsciously flitting to Kane Davenport, and I can’t figure out why.
Yes, he’s handsome, probably the most beautiful out of the three of them. While Jude has angular features and Preston is more of the princely type, Kane’s beauty is unnerving.
His sharp, chiseled jawline affords him a naturally commanding look. His usually neatly styled hair is now haphazard, and he runs his fingers through it, making his thick strands look casually polished.
At 6’4”, he’s also tall, but not as threatening as Jude. Kane’s lean yet muscular build complements his role as a dominant player on the ice. His body is sculpted for both power and agility, and his controlled movements reflect his innate leadership. He carries himself with confidence, his posture always straight and composed, giving off an aura of quiet authority.
And yet…his blue eyes are so pale, so blank, they’re akin to those of an arctic wolf instead of a human. They’re piercing, cold, and unreadable. Despite his outward calm, there’s a flicker of danger lurking just beneath the surface.
And yet he’s the only safe option on the team.
Kane is a responsible captain, a powerful leader, and the one who calms his teammates when they slip out of control. He’s also the only senior player with a normal-ish personality.
Well, as normal as these assholes can get.
He’s still part of that f****d-up organization no normal person would choose of their own volition. I glance at the black obsidian ring on his right index finger that doesn’t shine under the light. I can’t see it clearly, but I know there’s a compass rose branded on the top of it, a depiction of his family’s symbol.
The ring is proof of his monstrous ties.
He skates to the other two and forcibly breaks up the fight by shoving his body between theirs. Preston instantly jumps up
and skates in circles, his rhythm and provocative facial expression taunting without his having to say a word.
Jude fights against Kane’s hold, and his strength and thirst for violence form an invisible halo around him, eliciting goosebumps on my skin.
“Enough.” Kane pushes him, and while the movement looks relaxed, it actually isn’t. There’s no way he’d be able to shove away a bear-like man if that were the case.
That’s the thing about Kane. He somehow manages to make things look effortless when they’re far from it.
“Is that all you got, big man?” Preston tilts his head to the side and pouts at Jude, mimicking an innocent kid. “I’m disappointed.”
Jude dashes toward him. “You f*****g—”
Kane extends his hands, punching them both simultaneously in the stomach. “I said enough. Save the energy for the rink.”
Jude snarls. “I’ll pummel his pretty face to pieces so he stops talking shit.”
“Ruining my face won’t stop me from dragging your ass.” Preston grins wide. “It’ll just show your inferiority complex.
That jealous of my looks, peasant?”
“Your looks?” It’s Jude’s turn to mock laugh. “Which looks? Sickly and disturbing?”
“Said no one ever. But hey, I can find you a good plastic surgeon. Also a neurosurgeon so he can fix your messed-up personality.”
“Only if your personality will undergo the same surgery.”
“Blasphemy. I have a wonderful personality. Yours, however, revolves around mommy issues.” Preston pouts.
“I’m going to f*****g bury you.” Jude charges, and Kane uses his body to absorb the shock and still gets pushed back.
“Pres.” Kane stares at him. The energy shifts without his having to say anything else.
Preston lifts his shoulder. “What? It’s fun to mess with him. Besides, he needs to be drained so he can sleep. Like a kid.” “The f**k you just say?” Jude asks in a dark tone.
“See?” Preston lifts his hands as if he’s proving a point.
“Save the trash talk for the game,” Kane tells him.
“Hmm…let me consider it.” Preston taps his chin. “I refuse.”
Kane sighs as if he was expecting the reply. “Did you use that same antagonistic energy to get that player penalized?”
“I suppose. Told him that his mom is letting his coach f**k her in all her loose holes so that a mediocre player like him can be kept on the team.” Sick bastard.
“No wonder he nearly killed you and was penalized for five minutes. Twice,” Kane says in an unnervingly calm tone. “You’re effortlessly annoying.”
Preston grins. “I know, right?”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“Did she?” Jude asks, seeming to have forgotten about his vow to kill Preston.
“Did she what?”
“Let the coach f**k her in all her holes for her son?” Jude asks in a cryptic tone, and Kane watches him closely as if looking for something, though I can’t pinpoint what.
“Dunno. Probably? Who cares as long as the story served its purpose.” Preston releases a sigh. “People are so easy to mess with, it’s getting boring.”
Jude removes his gloves and throws them at Preston’s face.
The latter scrunches his nose. “Uncultured as always, Callahan.”
My gaze zeroes in on the black ring on Jude’s index finger. Similar to that of Kane’s, though his is branded with his family’s symbol—a caduceus wrapped in thorny vines. Preston has one as well. His has the symbol of a sun and a crescent moon.
They weren’t wearing them during the game, probably due to regulations. They must have them on now because they’re practicing on their own.
Maybe they don’t want to be seen without proof of their allegiance. Or proof of their power in this place.
People think Graystone Ridge is a sprawling, affluent town nestled in the US’s Northeast, where history and wealth blend seamlessly with modern ambition. The heart of the town’s center offers a mix of upscale cafés, designer shops, and historical landmarks lining cobblestone streets.
People also believe Graystone University, which is perched on the edge of the town, is a prestigious institution known for producing both academic and athletic powerhouses. Its historical architecture has aged well, harmonizing with its surroundings. While it offers renowned programs in business, law, sciences, and sports medicine, its true pride lies in its hockey program, which has become a breeding ground for future NHL stars.
- Writer
