Chapter 4

Aria

“Not today, Tristan,” I muttered once I stepped out of the locker room. “Your brother will not die in my hands again.”

Looking around to make sure that the coast was clear, I reached for the poison inside my bra, twisted the lid open, and stared at the dark liquid. The sharp smell of herbs—burning and poisonous—hit my nostrils sharply.

I spilled the liquid away, threw the bottle into a nearby trash can, and then made my way to the rink because my phone had been buzzing with messages from the cheerleading team who had been asking for my whereabouts as the game was about to start.

As I walked through the college grounds toward the rink, I saw him.

Trenton Lockwood.

Dressed in a blue and red hockey uniform. His helmet was in one hand, while his hockey stick was in the other.

He was rushing out of the locker room, then he paused when he noticed me.

His silver eyes bored into mine—soft but piercing, like he knew I'd killed him in my previous life but saved him in this. His broad chest rose and fell rhythmically—it almost seemed like his jersey top would rip off. His jaw was perfect with scanty rough beards—in the past that was the only way I could tell him apart from Tristan, who was clean-shaven, but now... I recognised him well, even if my eyes were closed.

He was so beautiful…

Fuck… how had I not noticed this before?

He looked like one of those male leads that I often described for my online horny fans who would binge my erotica novel of over fifty chapters in one night… except that I often added that they had a ten-inch dick, even though I had never even seen a five-inch one before except that of my online sex buddy.

Damn… his dick had been ten inches long when he was stroking himself and cumming right in front of my camera three days ago. That scene had left my cunt aching all night, all thanks to my vibrator which had come to the rescue, and I had felt guilty for craving another man while being mated to Tristan.

I felt heat pooling beneath me at the thought of how nasty my novels were. I'd write about my darkest fantasies. How I'd want Tristan to fuck me then…

I swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on him.

Then I heaved in relief. I knew he was alive, but seeing him made me feel better.

All of a sudden, I felt a wave of his aura pressing down on me. His scent—cold winter air and cedarwood—wafted into my nostrils, sending desire through my body, down between my thighs.

And what was this strange pull I felt towards him?

He started approaching me in slow and deliberate steps, and the closer he got, the harder my chest slammed.

Damn… why was he having so much effect on me too?

Trenton stood in front of me, put his helmet by his side, and pressed his free hand to my forehead.

God… I wasn't even kidding when I felt goosebumps all over my skin. My nipples tightened, pressing harder against my white shirt and fuck… I prayed he didn't notice.

I used to feel this way towards Tristan in the past and not Trenton.

In fact, if it had been in the past I would have been irritated and slapped Trenton's hand away, but now I wanted him to just wrap his arms around me, lead me to a nearby surface, and do those nasty things I used to write about to me.

I stared up at him, gripping the sides of my skirt tightly like it was the only thing holding me together.

His brows narrowed. “You don't have a fever though.” Even his voice sounded different, like melodic music that I could listen to all day long. “Then why do you look so pale?”

I couldn't answer. Not when it seemed like I was going to moan instead.

Clearly unaware of the way he was unravelling me bit by bit, he stared down at my exposed thighs. “I have always told you to wear longer socks anytime you're wearing this cheerleading skirt.” He sounded angry and concerned at the fact that the blue pleated skirt reached my thighs. “What if you catch a cold at the rink?” He had always cared.

“Maybe if you get them for me, I will remember to wear them,” I blurted out.

His eyes widened in disbelief. “I'm already surprised that you did not push my hand away, and now you want me to get you socks?” He moved me around, assessing my body. “Is this really my step sister or has she been switched with someone else?” he teased.

I slapped his hand away playfully. “Quit trying to annoy me, Trenton.” My voice was playfully hard. “Of course it's me, and from now on I won't avoid you anymore.” And I'm sorry for everything I had done in the past.

A broad smile appeared on his face, but quickly, as if he regained himself, he masked his expression and cleared his throat.

“You're acting strange, Aria, and I don't know if I should be scared or excited.” His voice turned sad as he added, “You used to hate me before, so what changed?”

My eyes never left him. “I was stupid then… but now I know better. I know that you care about me.”

His lips lifted in a smile.

Grateful.

Triumphant.

He cupped my cheeks. We locked gazes and it was like the rest of the world faded out.

He parted his lips. “Well… I have something to tell you, Aria—”

“Captain!” Lucian's voice echoed through, cutting him off.

Lucian's eyes landed on me and he gave a knowing smirk before he continued, “What are you doing there? The game is about to start.”

I hissed, hating the interruption especially since Trenton sounded like whatever he had to say was serious.

Trenton stared back. “I'm coming,” he barked out, before facing me again. “Well… I have to go. If we win today's match, I will treat you to dinner and tell you what I have to say, okay?”

I nodded. “Yes. I will be rooting for you.”

He turned away and ran towards Lucian who was clearly impatient now. It felt like a piece of my heart had been taken away.

“Trenton!”

He stopped mid-step and stared back.

I clenched my fists. “Fighting!”

He laughed. “Fighting.”

Lucian's angry voice about how Trenton had come back for his hockey stick that he forgot but had been smitten by me faded into the background as they ran off.

Taking a deep breath, I continued my journey to the rink, feeling totally pleased with how I had handled everything.

—————

“Trenton Lockwood!”

The cheers echoed through the rink as he shot the puck into the goalpost. Another win, and that marked the end of the game. Winterridge won eight, which Trenton single-handedly scored five. Silvercrest won three.

The Winterridge Ice Wolves circled around him, then started throwing him up and down in the air.

While for Tristan, he stood far away from the team, his jaw tight and his silver eyes blazing red.

Of course, I knew why he was angry.

Trenton had taken his water earlier in the middle of the game but nothing happened to him. Tristan must have figured out that I had not added the poison.

I only smirked in response, already thinking of the excuse I would give him if he lost his temper at me later.

Maya Frost stepped closer to me, whispering, “Why is Tristan staring at you like that?” She sounded irritated and angry. “I still can't figure out what you liked about him exactly.”

I gritted my teeth.

Betrayer.

This bitch had been with Tristan all along, and together they had killed me in my previous life.

Still putting on an act, huh?

Before I could bite back a response that she might know why he was angry since they were together, she had already left.

I would definitely deal with that bitch later.

The coach blew the whistle and the jubilation died down slowly.

Trenton was allowed to stand and he smiled at me.

I smiled back shyly, already anticipating the dinner and what he had to say.

The coach raised his voice over the cheering. “Listen up, everyone!” The rink went silent before he continued.“For the championship qualifiers, the player representing Winterridge…” He paused. “Trenton Blackwood.”

Another round of cheers erupted as everyone congratulated him.

But then…