Playing the Devil's Game

CHAPTER ONE

THE RULE

ISLA

The first thing I learned about being Asher North’s sister was this:

Protection and possession often look the same, and everyone knew my name, but no one ever really saw me.

And I liked it that way…. Or at least, I told myself I did.

The rink was quieter than usual that night; the sharp scrape of skating shoes against the ice echoed throughout the rink. I was always at my brother's practice and his games; it was one of my favorite things to do… watch him play.

And tonight was no different.

I watched from the stands as I sketched lazily in my sketchbook, listening as my brother barked orders on the ice. And when it was over, I left with him like I always did—head down, hoodie up, and completely invisible.

Except I’d forgotten my sketchbook.

I had already gotten to my dorm door the moment I realized it. I groaned softly, turning back toward the rink again. I should've waited, but that book meant more to me than my comfort.

When I got to the rink door, I hesitated for half a second, fingers curling around the strap of my bag. The lights were dimmer now, and the place felt… different. Empty.

In and out, I told myself.

I slipped inside, my sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished floor as cold air kissed my skin. The stands were mostly swallowed by shadow, rows of seats stretching into darkness. I scanned the area where I’d been sitting earlier, heart steady and gaze focused.

Then a voice cut through the quiet.

“You lose something?”

I froze, taken aback by the sudden voice.

The sound came from the far end of the rink—low, amused, and unmistakably male.

My heart kicked hard against my ribs as three figures stepped into the light like they’d been waiting for it. They had hockey sticks in hand, jerseys damp with sweat, and were all tall. All familiar in the way faces become familiar when you’ve watched them from a distance for months.

Rowan Pierce.

Ellis Grant.

Noah Bennett.

Asher’s best friends. All looking fucking hot.

My brother’s rules echoed in my head, and I snapped back to reality.

“I—uh,” I started, then stopped, embarrassed by how thin my voice sounded. “I forgot my sketchbook. I didn’t realize anyone was still here.”

Rowan leaned against the boards like he owned the place, eyes cutting straight to me. Not through me… at me. His gaze dragged over me slowly and unapologetically, and heat curled low in my stomach before I could stop it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, mouth tilting into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

His hand brushed mine as I moved past him toward the seats. It was an accident, I told myself, even though the spark that jumped between us felt anything but.

I pulled back instantly, flustered. “I’m just here to find my sketchbook; I’ll be gone in a second.”

Noah chuckled from behind him. “Relax. Rowan forgets how to act around… people.”

Ellis stepped forward then, and everything about him screamed “soft.” And it was calming. “We’ll help you look.”

They didn’t have to, but suddenly all three of them were moving, scanning the rows, their attention on me like I was something fragile they’d stumbled upon by accident.

Ellis found the sketchbook first, and as he stretched it to me, the book slipped open.

“You drew this?” he asked, glancing down at the open page.

I nodded, heat staining my cheeks.

“It’s beautiful,” he said simply, the compliment hitting harder than it should've. I turned to leave when Rowan's voice stopped me.

“Have you ever played hockey?”

I turned and shook my head quickly. “No.”

“You could hang around, and I could teach you,” he offered, voice low and almost lazy.

I smiled politely, stepping back. “I should get going; it’s late. I’d probably break something.”

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes as I turned and left, my pulse racing all the way out of the rink. I heard something about Ellis and Noah chiding Rowan behind me, but I didn't look back.

I didn’t see them again until days later.

Asher hosted one of his usual game nights—too much noise, too much testosterone, and even though it was just Asher, Rowan, Ellis, and Noah, it felt like too many people.

When they walked in and they all sat, ignoring me like I didn't exist as usual, my brother tapped me.

“Isla, could you please help us get drinks?”

I stood up without complaint, and Rowan stood up too.

“I’ll help.”

When I was on my feet, I felt the eyes on me.

I was wearing a dress that night. It was nothing scandalous, just shorter and lighter than usual. Lighter, and there was a sudden shift in the room. They all looked towards me, Noah's gaze lingering and Ellis looking away just in time for my brother not to notice it.

I made my way to the kitchen with Rowan following closely behind me. I pulled open the fridge, oblivious to our close proximity.

Ignore him.

Ignore him.

Ignore him.

But the adrenaline coursing through my veins was enough to know I could in fact not ignore his existence.

The fridge hummed when I pulled it open, and when we reached for the drinks simultaneously, our hands brushed against each other, and my breath caught.

Undeniable jolts of electricity coursed through my veins, and his touch lingered for too long until Asher's voice caught our attention.

“What are you guys doing?”

Rowan's gaze lingered on mine for a little too long before he lazily dragged it away and towards my brother.

“Grabbing drinks.” Was his casual response as he stepped back, the tension wiping clean like it never existed.

He grabbed a few drinks and walked out of the kitchen. Asher's gaze lingered on me for a second, but I tried to play it cool.

But I knew from the first time Rowan Pierce looked at me like that, Asher’s rule was already dead.