Chapter 4

Lena

“You should be careful, Lena.”

The words followed me all the way home.

Which was annoying.

And unfair.

Because I’d spent years hating Kane Ravenwood just fine without hearing his voice inside my head.

Now suddenly I couldn’t stop replaying it.

I shoved open my dorm room door harder than necessary.

Zara looked up from her bed, immediately suspicious.

“That bad?”

I dropped my bag onto the chair.

“That man is impossible.”

Her eyes lit up. “So you did talk to him.”

“I hate you.”

“That means yes.”

I kicked off my shoes and paced toward the window.

Outside, Blackthorn University looked almost peaceful under the evening sky. Students crossed campus wrapped in jackets while cold wind shook the trees.

Peaceful outside.

Chaos inside.

Zara sat up straighter. “Tell me everything.”

“No.”

“Lena.”

“He refused the interview.”

“That’s it?”

“That should be enough.”

Her expression screamed liar.

I groaned.

“Fine,” I muttered. “He was rude. Arrogant. Insufferable.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“You’re leaving something out.”

I turned away.

Unfortunately, Zara knew me too well.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“Oh my God.” She nearly bounced off the bed. “You are.”

Heat climbed into my face immediately.

“I’m annoyed,” I corrected.

“Mm-hmm.”

“He threatened me.”

That shut her up.

For about two seconds.

“Threatened you how?”

I hesitated.

Because technically… he hadn’t.

Not really.

He’d warned me.

And somehow that felt worse.

“He said I should be careful.”

Zara frowned.

“That sounds creepy.”

“It was creepy.”

“Did you tell campus security?”

I gave her a flat look.

“For what?” I asked. “Being emotionally disturbing?”

She laughed.

But the truth was, I hadn’t felt unsafe.

That was the strange part.

Intimidated?

Absolutely.

Unsettled?

Definitely.

But unsafe?

No.

And I hated admitting that to myself.

My phone buzzed.

I grabbed it quickly.

Mason.

My chest tightened.

I answered immediately.

“Hey.”

My brother’s voice sounded tired. “You busy?”

“No.”

“Good. Come by tomorrow.”

Simple.

Direct.

That was Mason these days.

“Everything okay?” I asked carefully.

“Yeah.”

Which usually meant no.

I moved toward the desk slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

Silence.

Then:

“Just come over.”

The call ended.

I stared at the screen.

Zara watched me carefully. “Your brother?”

I nodded.

“He okay?”

“I don’t know.”

And suddenly an uncomfortable thought appeared.

What if Kane told me to ask Mason why it wasn't meaningless?

No.

Absolutely not.

I refused to let Kane Ravenwood crawl into my thoughts this much.

I needed sleep.

—

The next morning smelled like coffee and bad decisions.

I found Mason at his apartment off campus.

He opened the door wearing sweatpants and exhaustion.

Three years ago, my brother had been one of Blackthorn’s brightest hockey stars.

Now?

He looked older than twenty-four.

His apartment felt too quiet.

Too empty.

“You look terrible,” I said.

“Good morning to you too.”

I hugged him anyway.

For a second, he hugged me back tightly.

Then he stepped aside.

“Coffee?”

“Obviously.”

His apartment still carried pieces of the old Mason.

Hockey trophies.

Framed photos.

A Ravens poster shoved half-hidden behind a bookshelf.

Ghosts everywhere.

I sat at the kitchen counter while he poured coffee.

“You never said why you called.”

He handed me a mug.

“I saw something online.”

I frowned.

“What?”

His expression darkened.

“Kane.”

Of course.

My stomach tightened.

“What about him?”

“That fight video.”

I leaned against the counter. “Campus is obsessed with it.”

Mason stayed quiet.

Too quiet.

Then:

“You’ve been around the arena lately?”

The question surprised me.

“Student paper assignment.”

His jaw tightened.

“I don’t want you around him.”

There it was.

The familiar tension.

“Mason—”

“I’m serious.”

“He’s not going to murder me.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

His voice sharpened.

I stared at him.

“You really hate him.”

Mason looked away.

The silence stretched.

Then he said quietly:

“You don’t know him.”

Funny.

Kane had said almost the same thing about my brother yesterday.

Something uneasy twisted inside me.

“What happened between you two?”

His shoulders stiffened immediately.

“Nothing.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s complicated.”

I set down my mug.

“You always say that.”

“Because it is.”

“No.” My frustration slipped out. “You say that so you don’t have to explain.”

Mason rubbed his face tiredly.

“Lena…”

“He knew me.”

That got his attention.

“He knew who I was.”

His expression changed.

Barely.

But enough.

“What did he say?”

“That I’m Mason Hart’s sister.”

Silence.

And suddenly I hated it.

Because people didn’t react like this over nothing.

“You still haven’t told me why you hate him,” I said.

Mason stared at the coffee in his hands.

Then:

“I never said I hated him.”

I blinked.

“What?”

His jaw tightened.

“I said stay away from him.”

“That’s basically the same thing.”

“No.” He looked up finally. “It isn’t.”

The answer confused me more than it helped.

Before I could press further, his phone buzzed.

He checked it.

His entire expression hardened.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Shutting down.”

He slipped the phone into his pocket.

“Drop it.”

I crossed my arms.

“No.”

His patience snapped first.

“I said drop it, Lena.”

The sharpness startled me.

We stared at each other.

Then guilt crossed his face.

He exhaled.

“Sorry.”

I looked away.

“I’m not a kid.”

“I know.”

“Then stop treating me like one.”

His voice softened.

“I’m trying to protect you.”

The words sat strangely between us.

Protect me from what?

Before I could ask—

A loud knock hit the apartment door.

Mason froze.

Not nervous.

Worse.

Tense.

He moved toward the door while I followed.

“Who is it?” he called.

No answer.

Another knock.

Slow.

Heavy.

Something cold slid down my spine.

Mason opened the door.

And my stomach dropped.

Kane Ravenwood stood outside.

Black hoodie.

Hands in pockets.

Gray eyes unreadable.

For one long second nobody spoke.

Then Kane looked past my brother—

—and directly at me.

His expression didn’t change.

But something dangerous settled in the air.

Mason’s voice turned hard.

“What are you doing here?”

Kane kept his eyes on me.

“We need to talk.”