THE ICE WOLF

Chapter 2 The Girl With The Camera

Marinette

I hated hockey.

That opinion became stronger after spending three hours freezing inside Blackridge Arena while teenage boys slammed each other into walls for entertainment.

My fingers felt numb from holding the camera, my shoes were soaked because somebody had spilled soda near the media section, and the crowd screamed every five seconds like the world was ending over a puck.

Still, I kept filming because I needed the scholarship money badly enough to suffer through it.

“Get number seventeen,” Vice Principal Ramirez said beside me. “The school loves using him for promotional clips.”

I adjusted the camera lens and zoomed toward the ice. “The blond one?”

She gave me a look. “You’ve been here the entire game and still don’t know his name?”

“I know his number.”

“That’s Adrien Agreste.”

The name sounded familiar. Then again, everybody at Blackridge talked about Adrien Agreste constantly. Half the girls in school acted like he was some tragic movie character instead of an aggressive hockey player with anger issues.

From what I’d seen tonight, I didn’t understand the obsession.

Sure, he was good-looking. That part was obvious. Tall, blond, sharp jawline, unfairly nice hair for someone wearing a helmet most of the time. But he also looked permanently irritated. Even while scoring goals, he barely smiled. He skated across the rink like he wanted to hit somebody.

Which, honestly, he probably did.

“Stay down, pretty boy,” one of the opposing players muttered loudly enough for my camera microphone to catch it.

Then everything changed.

Adrien grabbed the guy so fast I almost missed it through the camera lens. One second they were shoving each other normally, and the next second Adrien had him pinned against the glass hard enough to make the crowd gasp. The player’s face lost all color immediately.

Not embarrassed. Not angry. Terrified.

A strange feeling crawled up my spine while I kept filming. Something about the moment felt wrong. Adrien wasn’t acting like a normal teenager during a hockey fight. There was something wild in his expression, something intense enough to make even me uncomfortable from across the rink.

Then he looked up.

Straight at me. My breath caught unexpectedly.

His eyes looked strange for half a second. They weren’t fully green anymore. They looked brighter somehow, almost gold under the arena lights.

Weird. Very weird.

“Marinette?”

I blinked and realized Vice Principal Ramirez was talking to me again. “Sorry, what?”

“I said we’ll need player interviews after the game.”

I groaned immediately. “Please tell me you mean normal players.”

“You’re interviewing Adrien first.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re filming the documentary.”

“Can’t I interview someone less terrifying?”

Ramirez laughed. “He’s not terrifying.”

I looked back toward the rink just in time to see Adrien release the other player suddenly after the referee skated over. The guy backed away so fast he nearly tripped over himself.

Yeah. Terrifying.

The game continued, but I found myself watching Adrien more carefully after that. Something about him felt off now that I’d noticed it. Every movement seemed too sharp, too controlled. He reacted faster than everyone else on the ice, almost like he knew where the puck would go before it moved.

And he kept looking at me.

Not casually either.

Every few minutes, his eyes found me in the crowd again like he couldn’t stop himself. The attention should’ve felt flattering, but instead it just made me nervous.

By the end of the game, Blackridge won easily. The crowd erupted while students rushed toward the exits, still screaming about playoffs and rankings and whatever else hockey fans cared about. I stayed near the media section while packing the equipment carefully back into its cases.

“Locker room hallway,” Ramirez reminded me before leaving. “Five-minute interviews.”

“Can’t wait,” I muttered.

Ten minutes later, I stood outside the hockey locker room trying not to regret my life choices. The hallway smelled like sweat, ice, and body spray strong enough to kill plants. Players walked past me loudly while laughing and shoving each other, completely ignoring the camera hanging from my shoulder.

Honestly, that part was nice.

Then the hallway suddenly went quiet.

I looked up and immediately understood why.

Adrien Agreste had walked out of the locker room.

Up close, he looked even more intimidating somehow. Taller than I expected too. His damp blond hair curled slightly at the ends from sweat, and there was a bruise forming near his jaw already. Most people would probably think he looked attractive.

Personally, I thought he looked like somebody who belonged in anger management.

His eyes landed on me instantly.

And stayed there.

The weird feeling from earlier returned immediately.

“Oh good,” I said before I could stop myself. “The violent one.”

One of his eyebrows lifted slightly. “That’s how you introduce yourself to people?”

“You almost killed somebody tonight.”

“I didn’t.”

“You definitely considered it.”

For a second, I thought he might argue. Instead, something surprising happened.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Not a full smile.

But close.

“You’re the documentary girl,” he said.

“And you’re the hockey cliché.”

He crossed his arms while staring at me carefully. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you look like you punch walls when you’re emotional.”

A quiet laugh came from behind him. Another player walked out of the locker room shaking his head. “She’s got you figured out already, Agreste.”

Adrien shot him an annoyed look. “Go away, Luka.”

“No chance. This is entertaining.”

I ignored both of them and lifted the camera slightly. “Can we do this interview quickly? I’d like to regain feeling in my fingers tonight.”

Adrien sighed like speaking to me physically exhausted him. “Fine.”

I turned the camera on immediately. “Name?”

“You know my name.”

“Pretend this is professional.”

He stared at me for a second before answering. “Adrien Agreste.”

“Position?”

“Center.”

“How long have you played hockey?”

“Since I was six.”

I nodded while adjusting focus slightly. “Why hockey?”

That question changed his expression instantly.

Until now, he’d looked annoyed more than anything else. But suddenly he seemed guarded, like I’d accidentally touched something important.

“I’m good at it,” he said finally.

“That’s a boring answer.”

“It’s a boring question.”

Luka snorted behind him while I fought a smile. “You know, people would probably like you more if you acted human occasionally.”

Adrien looked directly at me then, and the strange feeling hit me again harder this time.

Something about his eyes wasn’t normal.

Not the color.

The intensity.

It felt like he was studying me instead of simply looking at me.

Like he was trying to figure something out.

My stomach tightened uncomfortably.

“Your eyes keep changing,” I said before thinking better of it.

The hallway went silent.

Adrien stopped moving completely.

Luka’s expression changed too fast for me to understand it.

“What?” Adrien asked carefully.

“Sometimes they look green,” I said slowly. “Then other times they look almost gold.”

Neither of them answered.

Okay. That was weird. Really weird.

Adrien’s jaw tightened slightly while Luka suddenly looked interested in the floor for some reason. The air between us felt tense now, like I’d accidentally said something important without realizing it.

Then Adrien’s phone buzzed loudly in his pocket.

He pulled it out quickly, and whatever he read made the color drain from his face. He looked more afraid than nervous.

Real fear flashed across his expression so fast I almost missed it.

Another message came immediately after the first one.

This time, I watched his hand tighten hard enough around the phone that I thought it might c***k.

“Adrien?” Luka asked quietly.

Adrien looked up sharply toward the end of the hallway.

I followed his gaze automatically.

Three unfamiliar boys stood near the arena exit wearing dark jackets with another school’s logo stitched across the front. At first, they looked normal enough.

Then one of them smiled directly at Adrien.

Cold dread settled suddenly into my stomach because there was something deeply wrong with that smile.

The boy tilted his head slightly before speaking loud enough for all of us to hear.

“We finally found you, little wolf.”