Rook POVIt’s a short walk, not as short as Kade’s would be if he were heading back to his place, but close enough. That was my father’s doing, making sure I stayed nearby even after I could have moved out on my own. Other guys my age, other players, have their own apartments, their own lives. Not me.Because when your father runs the city, you don’t just walk away.By the time I reach the estate, the sun is already dipping lower, washing everything in a dull gold light. The gates open as I approach, and the security stationed outside barely glances at me. They all know who I am. More importantly, they know what my father would do to them if anything happened to me.The house is as cold and impersonal as ever, a sprawling mansion that screams power rather than home. The moment I step inside, I hear voices coming from my father’s office, low murmurs laced with tension.I should head upstairs, pretend I don’t hear it, but I don’t. Instead, I step toward the heavy wooden doors and push o
Rook’s POVThe locker room is humming with the usual pre-game energy, the guys are stretching, taping their sticks and adjusting their gear. They are all going through the motions like this just any other game. It's not. At least for me it isn't. Sitting on the bench, I lace up my skates with slow deliberate movements, letting the anticipation settle deep into my chest. This game isn't important in our standings, and such, it's just a charity game. it's meant to be a time when we put on a good show, winning and losing means nothing. I don't care about the show, the only thing that matters to me right now, is that Kade Mercer is on the other side of the ice. For the first time in years, I don't know what version of him I'm going to get on the ice. Yesterday I felt it, the shift in him, something told me he wasn't himself. Mercer is always cocky, reckless and for some reason, he's always pushing forward like he doesn't give a fuck about anything but winning. Yesterday though? He was s
Rook POVKade is playing like a man possessed. He’s not setting up plays, not following his usual style of controlled chaos. No, this is something else entirely. Every shift, he’s gunning straight for me, reckless in a way I’ve never seen before. There’s no reason for it, no build-up, no words exchanged that should’ve pushed him over the edge. But every time we’re near each other, he goes for me.And I fucking love it.Every hit, every shove, every time his body collides with mine, I can feel it under my skin, feeding something dark and hungry inside me. I’ve spent years pushing him, pulling him into my orbit, forcing him to acknowledge me. But this? This is different. He’s not just reacting, he’s initiating.I catch his eye after another brutal check, my back slamming into the boards. The crowd reacts, the play keeps moving, but all I care about is the look in his eyes. His chest is rising and falling fast, his gloved hands clenched tight, jaw locked like he’s fighting himself. But h
Kade’s POVMy knuckles throb, the sting of raw skin pulsing with every beat of my heart. Blood is smeared across my fingers as I flex them, testing how bad the damage is. The refs tossed me into the penalty box like a rabid dog, shoving me down onto the bench while the game moved on without me. I should be cooling off, getting my breathing under control, letting the adrenaline settle. But I can’t. Not when he’s still out there.Rook fucking Volkov.He’s on the other side of the ice, looking as smug as ever, his lips split from my punch, his grin only widening when he catches me watching him. I should have known he’d enjoy this. The bastard always does. He doesn’t care about the game, doesn’t care about the fight itself—he just cares that I lost control first. That I was the one who snapped, the one who gave him exactly what he wanted.I drag a hand through my hair, gripping the back of my neck as I try to shake the feeling of him off me. I can still feel the press of his body against
Kade POVThe bar is packed when we get there, the energy buzzing, drinks flowing easily. It’s one of the places hockey guys always hit after games, filled with a mix of fans, reporters, and the usual crowd looking to get close to anyone with a shot at the big leagues. I let the guys pull me toward the bar, already ordering rounds, the familiar rhythm of celebration settling over us.I grab a drink, lean against the counter, and try to let the noise drown out everything else, but then I feel it. A stare, someone is staring at me. I don’t have to turn to know who it is. My grip tightens around my glass, my jaw clenching as I finally glance over my shoulder.Rook.He’s across the bar, sitting in a booth with a few of his teammates, but his eyes are locked onto me, unwavering, unreadable. He hasn’t looked away once, like he’s been waiting for me to notice. There’s no smirk this time, no cocky grin, no teasing insult waiting to be thrown across the room. Just him, watching me.And the wors
Rook POVI’ve not been able to get the other night out of my head. My body pressed against Kade’s, the way his tongue pushed into my mouth like he was begging for fucking more.Practice has been fucking hard, mainly because I’m constantly hard. Every time one of the guys barrels into me, my mind goes straight to Kade. I see flashes of that night, his body arching, the way his breath hitched when I pushed him just far enough but not all the way. I could’ve had him. I know it. He knows it. And that’s exactly why I didn’t take him.I don’t just want him. I want him ruined for anyone else. I want him addicted to the way I play with him, stalking him, tormenting him, owning him. I want him to crave me like oxygen, to shudder at the thought of me not being there. So I walked away, and ;eft him standing there, breathless, confused and desperate.That’s how he makes me feel every fucking day.Today’s game is another chance to get inside his head, to tighten the grip. Like a snake, coiling aro
Rook POVWhen I reach his locker room, he’s alone, shirtless, pacing. His muscles flex as he mutters curses under his breath, hands raking through his hair. His whole body screams frustration, but it’s the anger in his eyes that holds me still for a second.I glance down the hall and catch sight of my father walking away. Yeah. He’s been here. He’s made sure Mercer knows exactly what’s expected of him.The moment my father’s footsteps fade, Kade stops, lifting his head. His eyes lock onto mine, and the fire burning there makes my blood fucking race.“Here to fucking gloat?” he sneers, his voice is thick with venom.I step inside, slow and steady, watching as he yanks on his gear. His movements are sharp, and rigid, like it’s taking everything in him not to slam his fist into something.“Don’t go getting dressed for me,” I say, smirking. “I’d much rather you were naked.”His glare sharpens, but I don’t stop. I close the space between us, enjoying the way his jaw clenches, the way his b
Kade POVI feel like I’m going to be sick. Every second on that ice, every forced mistake, every moment I hold back when I should be driving forward, it eats at me like fire in my veins. The weight of it presses down on me, making my entire body burn with frustration. I want to fight back, to do something, to show them that I’m not just some pawn they can move around at will, but what can I do? There’s no escape from this, no way to break free without tearing my entire life apart in the process.Walking away from hockey isn’t an option, so when the final buzzer goes, I don’t wait for anyone, don’t stop to acknowledge the loss or pretend I care. There’s nothing to celebrate. I rip my helmet off before I even step off the ice, storming down the tunnel and straight into the locker room. My jersey is off in seconds, thrown to the bench like it’s the problem, like it’s the reason I feel like my own skin is suffocating me.“What the fuck was that, Mercer?” Coach is on me instantly, his voic
Rook POVAs we step out of the arena, the noise from inside fades behind us. The night air is crisp, the kind that bites at your skin but feels good after being on the ice. Kade walks beside me, his hands shoved into his pockets, his expression still caught somewhere between pissed off and thinking too hard.I nudge him as we head toward the car. “You ready for this?”He shoots me a look. “For what?”“The part where everyone gets drunk in your honor,” I smirk. “You should feel special.”“Right, because I’m sure that’s exactly why they’re drinking,” he mutters. “Not because they’re thrilled I’m finally out of their way.”I shrug. “A little of both, probably.”He huffs out a breath, shaking his head, but I catch the flicker of amusement in his eyes. He’s still brooding about the game, about how I let
Rook POVI get myself sorted, half expecting to get outside and find Kade gone, only he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed like he’s sulking.Nudging him, I smile. “Alright, you want the fucking truth you moody asshole?”“You and the truth?” He laughs shaking his head like that’s crazy.“I don’t lie, you know that.” Moving, I stand in front of him, my hands pressing against the wall beside his head. “Harlow is watching, she knows it’s your last fucking game.”He looks at me, confused. “Right, so what?”Rolling my eyes, I step closer. “She idolises you, and the fact you’re the best hockey player. She gets to see you how she believes you, as the best at hockey, at fucking everything.”He just stares at me, so I keep going.“She gets to see her dad winning, Kade,” I say, my voice quieter now. “Not
Kade POVI let out a frustrated groan, gripping his jersey tighter. “You tripped over your own fucking skates! I swear to god, Rook, it wasn’t even convincing!”“It was fast! People will think I hit a rough patch of ice or something.”“There was no rough patch! We play on pro-maintained ice!”“Well, then I guess I’m just that clumsy,” he deadpans.I stare at him, my entire body vibrating with frustration. “You are so fucking lucky I love you, because I swear to god—”He smirks again. “Oh, I know.”I groan again, pressing my forehead against his chest for a moment before shoving myself off him. “Unbelievable,” I mutter as I pull him up with me.“You’re welcome,” he says, still grinning, and I glare at him.“You are never pulling that shit again.”“Well this was the last game, so
Kade POVMy body aches, exhaustion creeping in with every shift. Rook wasn’t wrong, I’m not as good as I used to be. And somehow, he’s gotten better. No matter how much I push, how hard I skate, he’s always a step ahead, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment to turn the tables on me.Now I get how he fucking felt all those years.I glance across the ice at him. He’s muttering something under his breath, probably chirping me from the penalty box. I can’t hear him over the crowd, but I know it’s about me slacking off. Maybe because I winked at him, knowing it would throw him off just enough to make him lose his focus.Except he didn’t lose it.We’re not winning this.I was so sure I could beat Rook like I always did, so sure I could just show up and still take him down. I didn’t even try to train these past few days. That was my mistake.The whistl
Rook POVThe last few days have been good. Kade has barely worked, giving himself real time to heal. I’ve purposely gone to train, making sure he has time alone with Harlow.He needs it. So every now and then, I fake that I have to train and head to the rink. Sure, I train, but not every single day. This is about giving him time with her, time they both need.“Have you decided?” My dad walks in, looking between us.“Does it really make a difference?” I ask. To me, it doesn’t matter whether Kade and I arrive together or not.“You’ve got to consider it. Are you going there together, as partners? Or are you showing up separately, like the rivals you’ve always been?”Kade smirks. “Maybe separate cars. Something tells me Rook won’t handle losing well.”He has no fucking idea.“Plus, I’m not sure I’ll want to sit in a car
Kade POVRook walks beside me, his hands are shoved in his pockets, and he has that smug little smirk still on his face. “You really thought they wouldn’t bring up our marriage?” he teases.I huff. “I don’t know why they care so much. It’s not like you’re some fucking trophy wife.”He gasps dramatically. “Excuse you, I am a fucking prize.”I roll my eyes, but I don’t fight the grin tugging at my lips.As we reach the doors leading to the ice rink, I hear the sound of skates carving into the ice. Laughter echoes, followed by Rose’s voice giving encouragement. I step inside, and my eyes immediately find Harlow.She’s on the ice, her tiny form skating with ease, stick in hand, guiding the puck forward.I stop walking.Rook keeps going, not noticing until he glances back at me. “What?”I gesture toward the rink. “She’s... ac
Kade POVI walk into the stadium, Rook right beside me. We brought Harlow along, and she and Rose are going to skate for a bit. It gives her something to do, and afterward, we can join her as well.“So, no punching people, right?” Rook glances at me.“You are telling me?” I scoff. “I am pretty sure you would be the one to punch a reporter, not me.”His head tilts slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t know. You have always hated them, but now you can punch them, and it doesn’t even matter. You’re quitting, what are they going to do? Force you to play more as punishment?”Rolling my eyes, I shove him, but he barely moves. Instead, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in tight.“I’m offended, Mercer. Look at you, shoving me,” he teases, his grip tightening. “You should be glad the cameras didn’t catch it... Abuse. Damn,
Rook POVI lean back, pulling him with me until we’re both lying down, my arm wrapped around him, his head resting against my chest.“She doesn’t deserve you,” I whisper.“I know,” he murmurs.“But you still won’t let her die alone. You love her, she's your mom, that doesn't change.”He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. I already know.The sound of muffled giggling pulls me from sleep, followed by the unmistakable rustling of movement on the bed. I blink my eyes open, groggy and disoriented, only to find two pairs of eyes staring right at me, one mischievous, the other excited.Harlow is sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, balancing a plate on her lap, while Kade leans back against the pillows with a tray in front of him, looking way too pleased with himself for this early in the morning.I glance between them, rubbing a hand over my face. “W
Rook POVI don’t say anything, I just reach for his wrist and guide him toward our room. He doesn’t fight me or try to pull away. His breathing is steady, but I can feel the tension in the way he moves, in the way his fingers flex like he’s trying to keep control of himself.The second we step inside, I shut the door behind us, locking out the rest of the world. Kade stands there for a moment, staring at nothing, clearly lost in his own head.I walk over to him and place my hands on his shoulders. He still doesn’t move, so I squeeze lightly, grounding him. “You did the right thing,” I say quietly.He lets out a breath, a slow, shaky one that tells me just how much this is weighing on him. “I don’t know if it was the right thing,” he mutters. “I just know sending her away wouldn’t have changed anything.”Nodding, I step closer. “That’s the right thin