Offside With The Alpha Captain

CHAPTER ONE AURELIA’S POV The snowstorm hit harder than I expected and thick snow flakes whipped across my face as I dragged my suitcase through the front gates of Westbrook Academy. My boots had already gotten soaked and my fingers were frozen inside my gloves. I pulled my hood tighter around my head and kept walking, but deep down I already regretted this decision. Transferring here in the middle of senior year felt like a mistake. A highly risky mistake. The campus was huge, buried deep in Northern Canada, and everything about it screamed money and power. Tall stone buildings that were totally submerged in snow, with perfectly cleared pathways, and students who looked like they belonged in magazines. While I was just a scholarship student with one worn-out suitcase and a dead mother’s last wish pushing me forward. I kept my head down as I walked, but people still seemed to stare at me. Conversations stopped whenever I passed small groups and a few girls whispered behind their hands while guys on the hockey team jackets gave me long, curious looks. Everyone here seemed obsessed with only one thing—the Westbrook Ice Wolves. Their posters were plastered everywhere and their games were apparently treated like religious events. I clutched the transfer papers tighter in my hand and tried to find the administration building. The map on my phone was useless in this weather. So after twenty minutes of walking in clueless circles, I pushed open a heavy set of double doors, hoping it would lead me somewhere warm and official. Instead, I stepped into Westbrook Arena. The moment I walked in, the cold air hit me and it was totally different, like this cold came from inside the building. The rink was huge and stretched out in front of me, with bright lights shining down on the ice. The sound of skates sliding on the surface and bodies slamming into each other filled the space. This wasn’t normal practice. The aggression on the ice semmed way too rough to be professional. Almost all players crashed into each other like they were trying to hurt one another on purpose. While coaches screamed from the sidelines, in angry tones that echoed off the ice. I should have turned around and left immediately, but my feet stayed planted to the spot. Then I saw him. He stood out even among the violent chaos. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair visible under his helmet. Zane Miller. The captain. I recognized him instantly from the posters and the fearful whispers I had already heard around campus. Everyone said he was dangerous, violent and unstable. That he was the kind of guy people avoided unless they had no choice. A brutal fight suddenly broke out near the center of the ice. Two players dropped their sticks and started throwing punches. One of them crashed hard into the glass barrier with a sickening thud and blood splattered across the white ice. The other players slowed down but didn’t look surprised. It seemed like this kind of thing clearly happened often. My heart raced as I watched. I knew I should leave, but before I could move, Zane lifted his head and looked straight toward the stands. Straight at me. Our eyes locked. For a second, the entire world seemed to pause, then his facial expression changed completely. It wasn’t anger or annoyance….it was pure panic. His eyes widened, his body went rigid, and for a moment he looked like he had seen a ghost. The violent captain who moments ago looked ready to destroy everything suddenly looked… afraid. The arena went deathly silent. All the shouting stopped and most skates slowed to a halt, everyone turned to look at me standing there like an intruder. My cheeks had already started heating with embarrassment, but I couldn’t look away from Zane. He was still staring at me, breathing heavily, his gloved hands folded tightly at his sides. “What the hell is she doing here?” one of the coaches barked angrily. “Security! Get her out of the arena right now!” Two large men in black jackets moved toward me quickly and I took a step back immediately. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, lifting my hands. “I got lost. I was looking for the administration building. I didn’t mean to—” “Out. Now,” the coach snapped, not even letting me finish. One of the security guards grabbed my arm firmly and started guiding me toward the exit. I glanced back over my shoulder one last time and Zane was still watching me. That same haunted look hadn’t left his face and he hadn’t moved an inch. His teammates were whispering around him, but he ignored all of them. The cold air hit me again as I was escorted outside. The security guard didn’t say anything else before closing the heavy doors behind me. I stood there in the snow for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Why did Zane Miller look at me like that? We had met once, and the experience was not pleasant. So now why was he acting all surprised to see me. He was acting all scared for a girl he humiliated years ago. What a guy! Or was his reaction for a different reason? Deep down something about the way he reacted felt a little too personal and it left an uneasy feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t shake off. I adjusted my hood and started walking again, this time following clearer signs toward the administration building. The snow continued falling heavily around me, but my mind stayed stuck inside that arena. Westbrook Academy felt weird already. The stares, the silence when I entered rooms, the violent hockey practice, and now Zane Miller’s strange reaction—none of it made sense. I came here to keep my head down, get my diploma, and quietly search for answers about my mother’s death. That was all. But something told me that plan had already started to fall apart the second Zane looked at me. By the time I finally reached the administration building, my fingers had already gone numb from the cold. But as I pulled the door open, I couldn’t stop thinking about those panicked eyes. What kind of place had I just transferred into?