Ice Trial: Mated To My Nerd Stepsister

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Sloane

I am hallucinating. I blink my eyes, and the wolf—or whatever my troubled mind conjured—is no longer there. Gosh, I need a long sleep. My eyes are starting to play tricks on me.

‘Maybe it was a large dog,’ I think. There is no other explanation.

I find a spot, and sit, whipping out my phone, and checking out the message Bertha sent me. It’s a concerned message, asking if I’m alright, then followed by a series of heart emojis. The next message is a photo of Castle and his teammates after the match. I didn’t notice her take the shot. Maybe it was after I snuck out of the ice arena.

“What am I going to do?” I wonder aloud, putting my head on my knees and inhaling deeply. The air smells of pine and dead leaves. But it is oddly comforting. And cold too. My mind wanders to the threat I got from Castle. It is obvious he doesn’t want me here anymore than I want to be. The loathing in his eyes as he told me off, flashes in my mind, clenching my heart in a way I didn’t think possible. Why do I care? It’s not my fault that I was his classmate a few hours ago, and then boom…new stepsister.

‘He hates you,’ I think to myself.

My phone beeps, and I check it out once more. My face closes up as I see the latest photo Bertha sent. It’s a nice-angle picture of Castle and his girlfriend Sansa. She’s dressed in cheerleading gear, her hair packed in a beautiful ponytail, her eyes gleaming with characteristic meanness. I look at them, at how perfectly they complement each other. She’s everything I’m not—beautiful, hot, confident, and mean. She’s the kind of person suited for the likes of Castle Raemon. Not a nerd like me.

Horror washes over me at the trajectory of my thoughts. I can’t be thinking of my step-brother like this. Not now. Not ever.

…

The celebration hall—as my stepfather called it—is exquisitely decorated, the next day, lights hanging from chandeliers above the high ceiling. The floors gleam with shimmering dazzles, and I try to act like I belong here, watching everything from my position in a corner of the large room.

It is Castle’s nineteenth birthday, and the place is abuzz with celebration. For the past forty minutes, I’ve lost count of how many luxurious cars have parked in front of the building, the owners strolling in their expensive suits and dresses. They all look powerful, and different in an unsettling way. The celebrant himself is nowhere to be found. My fingers cradle the stalk of the wine glass I was offered by one of the prim-looking waiters walking around in suits. Before now, I’ve never seen waiters in suits. I am dressed in a gown that beats the word ‘beautiful,’ and borders on ‘gorgeous,’ the slit in front showing too much of my cleavage than I’m comfortable with. Once again, my mom forced me to take off my glasses.

As I lean back against my chair, prepared to accept my fate and try to enjoy the rest of the evening, my eyes land on a familiar figure. Correction, figures. Sansa and her friends walk through the entrance, their heads held high, their lips painted in bright shades of red. I duck my gaze, hoping they won’t notice me. As if sensing my presence, Sanaa’s eyes dart around and land on me. Her beautiful face furrows into a frown, as she makes a beeline in my direction.

I pretend to clean something off my nails, bracing myself for a confrontation. How am I going to explain what I’m doing at the party?

A shadow suddenly crosses in front, and a tall guy intercepts her path. My breath catches in my throat. Dressed in a grey shirt, and suit pants, Castle looks the same as always. More handsome even. His auburn hair shines a deeper red—courtesy of the lights from the chandelier. He doesn’t spare me a glance, and simply leans in to whisper something to a fuming Sansa.

“Freak,” I hear one of her friends spit, as they turned to go. I watch them leave, letting out a relieved exhale.

As the party begins, an hour later, I sneak off to my room. I feel exhausted, all my body up in high alert. I should’ve ditched the party all together. A tear of self-pity rolls down my cheek, as I kick off my shoes.

“You don’t belong here, Sloane. This world is for the rich and confident people,” I mutter beneath my breath. I look around. The room is dimly lit.

“I think he’s suspecting me, but I’m not sure about it,” a familiar voice suddenly echoes from my bathroom, freezing me in place. There is no mistake about it. There is only one person with such a rich, raspy voice. Sansa is in my bathroom, and she seems to be on the phone. I debate what to do. Eavesdropping is something I hate. I decided to leave, and come back later. I’m already halfway through the door, when her voice comes on again.

“Castle Raemon won’t know what hit him. His pack is mine. I’m the one who should be the next Luna, not him or any of Zander’s bastards.” A malicious tone takes on her words. My hand grabs the door handle tight. What is she talking about?

Luna? Pack?

The names sound so alike to some of the terms in the book I was reading. Werewolf terms. I don’t think too much about it. Maybe she’s just using foreign terms that are completely unrelated to paranormal stuff.

Paranormal is fiction. Werewolf too. What I saw in the forest yesterday was a dog. Nothing else. Thinking too much about it would leave me feeling crazy.

Why is she talking about Castle in this way? My heart jumps to my throat as realization slowly dawns on me. Castle might be in danger.

In my hurry to rush out, I trip.

“Who’s there?” Sansa calls out, and I run out blindly, not waiting to see if she’s behind me. I need to get to Castle right now. But, would he trust me or my words?

As I near the celebration hall, my steps slow to a halt. I spot Castle amidst the crowd. It’s hard to miss him. Everyone else, with the exception of his father seem to gravitate around him. He stands tall, talking about something I can’t hear from this distance. He licks his lower lip subconsciously, and my heartbeat quickens. Perhaps feeling my gaze on him, his eyes lift up, and meet mine right at that moment.

I make my decision. I know what to do. I will accept his deal to do his school work, then try to get close to him. Only then can I reveal what I overheard Sansa saying.

“For a freak, you have pretty high standards,” Sansa’s malicious voice sounds from behind me, and I jump. I didn’t even hear her approach.

“I–” I falter.

She sneers. “Why are you staring at my boyfriend?”